Authors: N.T. Morley
Published by Fanny Press
PO Box 95462
Seattle, WA 98145
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Chapter 1
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1
Chapter 2
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23
Chapter 3
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41
Chapter 4
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57
Chapter 5
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85
Chapter 6
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115
Chapter 7
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125
Chapter 8
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141
Chapter 9
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153
The Parlor (1995)
The Castle (1996)
The Limousine (1997)
The Contract (1997)
The Office (1998)
The Library (1998)
The Circle (1998)
The Appointment (1998)
The Nightclub (2000)
The Visitor (2001)
The Tower (2003)
The Dungeon (2003)
The Secretary (2003)
The Administratrix (2003)
Borrowing Privileges (2003)
Special Collections (2003)
The first time she gave herself to the Master, Brenda wore white.
It was a warm Friday in the middle of summer. Brenda stood on the street corner. She was beginning to feel she must be insane to be doing this, but now that she’d gotten this far, she was almost afraid to turn back. After all, Kristi had done it, and if Kristi was to be believed, it was the start of the sexual experience of her life. Brenda felt the curious churning in the pit of her stomach that told her that she had to go through with it. Her excitement was mounting.
This was not the best part of town, and she had already drawn a number of disapproving looks from the whores working these streets. But Brenda had dressed exactly as she had been instructed to dress: tiny white mini-dress that barely fit her, white high heels, and more makeup than was considered tasteful. Underneath the dress, her clothes were also exactly what had been ordered, even though it left her feeling incredibly vulnerable to be dressed like this on a city street after dark. Her white stockings had lace tops that were two inches below the hem of her skirt, showing the garters that led up to a matching white garter belt. She had followed her instructions to the letter. Brenda felt her skin tingling as she realized just how little she was wearing under this very tight dress, and just how apparent her body was to everyone walking by. She caught more than a couple of whistles from passing cars, but—much to her relief—no men stopped to try to pick her up. Maybe it was too early—just before ten o’clock at night. She wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t have gone with a man who did stop to pick her up—she was turned on enough that she wasn’t exactly thinking straight. But she knew she would follow her instructions no matter what—Kristi had been very clear that she must obey the directions in every detail. She must wait for the white limousine. In a way, Brenda was terrified, but the fear only added to her excitement. Beneath the fear, she was never more sure of anything she had ever done in her life.
She was afraid that someone from work might drive by and see her. Then again, if someone did, they were obviously in the wrong part of town—and would probably be as embarrassed as she was.
Brenda had been instructed not to wear a watch, or carry a purse, so she had little idea if she was on time or not. She had purposefully tried to show up twenty minutes early, so as not to be late. She was beginning to reconsider that decision just as she saw the white limousine rounding the corner.
The limousine drove very slowly toward her. The windows were tinted, so she couldn’t even see the driver. She wondered how the driver could see well enough to drive—but then she remembered that she had to check the license plate. It was the right one. The limousine pulled up to the curb, and Brenda heard a click in the mechanism of the door. Drawing a deep breath, Brenda walked tentatively up to the limousine and got in, almost without knowing what she was doing. But she sensed, deep inside her body, that she had entered an unknown world.
***
Once Brenda had closed the door, she felt a sudden momentary panic, a terror she had never known before. Then she heard the door lock clicking shut again, and the panic—inexplicably—passed. There didn’t appear to be a button on the inside to unlock the door. Somehow that made her panic lessen, as she felt that she had given up control, and Brenda relaxed into the plush seats and looked around the back of the limousine.
Brenda had never been in a limo before. She was surprised at the opulence, even more than she had expected. The seats were soft and covered in something like white fur, though she suspected it had to be fake. There was a small TV opposite her and a control panel, next to a phone with gold trimmings, near her hand. She was sitting in the rearmost seat, facing forward, and a bottle of red wine sat in an ice bucket opposite the phone, with only one glass. The wine had already been opened. Above the phone was a small white cabinet which looked like it might have held a gun or something. There was a skylight overhead, but it was darkened, as were all the windows. They weren’t just tinted—they were white. Brenda could
not see the world outside, and only the interior lights of the
limousine allowed her to see at all.
Brenda squirmed in the fur-covered seat, feeling her tight,
short skirt ride up on her thighs. Mostly to cover her nervousness, she poured herself a glass of red wine, careful not to
spill any. Brenda didn’t know much about wine, but when she
tasted it she knew it must be an expensive vintage. She drank
one glass very quickly and poured herself another, forcing
herself to sip it.
She felt the limousine accelerating, felt the stop-and-start
that told her they were still in traffic. Just out of curiosity,
she tried each of the four doors and found that they were indeed locked, with no visible means of unlocking them. Brenda
took a deep breath and felt her nipples harden.
She felt the limousine turning, and she knew they were
heading for the freeway. But after a few more turns she was
hopelessly lost. She didn’t know this part of town, and she
had no idea where she was headed. She only knew, from her
roommate Kristi, that she would be returned to her apartment
tomorrow, totally safe.
Brenda thought she must be crazy for letting Kristi talk her
into this. What kind of a girl gives herself to a man sight unseen, just based on the encouragement of a roommate she
doesn’t really know? Brenda and Kristi had been roommates
for just over twelve months, and they had become friends of
a sort in that time. Certainly they liked each other very well,
and both were excellent and considerate roommates (with a
few small exceptions, most notably Kristi’s very loud lovemaking with her boyfriends). Even so, Brenda really didn’t know
Kristi that well, didn’t know how trustworthy or rational she
was. But Kristi had been so insistent, so convincing, and even
though Brenda knew that this was totally out of line with what
she “ought” to be doing, it was intriguing enough to bring the
lifelong fantasies flooding back into Brenda’s mind in full force,
flushing her body with arousal every time she thought about
it. Hearing Kristi talk about her “Master” had brought Brenda
to such heights of arousal that she’d been almost unable to
say know when Kristi offered to contact her mysterious lover on Brenda’s behalf. Brenda also thought it strange that Kristi didn’t show even the tiniest hint of jealousy, but wanted Brenda to have all the experiences she had had. Something in Kristi’s demeanor made Brenda trust her on this, made Brenda feel totally, absolutely safe. And so Brenda had given in to her dark desires, asking Kristi to make the call and propel her into this unknown and possibly dangerous situation. Brenda had never been more turned on.
Suddenly, the TV monitor clicked on, and Brenda watched, shocked, as an image took form on the screen.
It was Kristi, bound and gagged, almost naked, bent over a large, padded table in a bare room. Brenda’s eyes went wide as she watched the videotape unfolding. Kristi was shown from behind, and she wriggled her ass back and forth invitingly. She was moaning softly, whispering “no, stop ... no, please.... don’t punish me.” Hearing that made Brenda’s nipples harden further, and the ache in her pussy increase until it was almost painful. Kristi was wearing only the slightest of G-strings, which hid her pussy but not the round, ripe cheeks of her ass. Brenda had seen that ass many times in their year of living together, and she was somewhat jealous of it. It was a gorgeous ass, and Brenda knew that Kristi liked her lovers to do nasty things to it.
Brenda had discovered not long after moving in that Kristi liked her boyfriends to spank her, and once they got started they weren’t particularly aware of how much noise they were making. For a while, Brenda had thought about complaining, more because she thought she should than because the noise disturbed her. It didn’t take Brenda long to decide that it was more fun to lie in the dark, listening to the scenes in the other room, fantasizing about all sorts of things that she had never dreamed would be a reality so close to her bedroom. She had never actually
seen
her roommate getting spanked, but the sounds Kristi made when she was submitting to the punishment were enough to fuel Brenda’s sexual fantasies all year. ***
Brenda had harbored her own submissive fantasies for many years. But she had never acted them out—not much, at least.
Now and then a lover would want to talk dirty to her, and Brenda found that extremely erotic. But she had never dated a man for more than a few months, so the dirty talk always ended sooner than she would have liked—another casualty of her brief relationships.
One of the men she had slept with since college, Roger, had turned Brenda over his knee and spanked her, at his suggestion. Brenda had gotten so turned on by the spanking that it had almost driven her mad with desire. And as she had felt Roger’s cock growing hard against her belly with every stroke on Brenda’s ass, Brenda had felt an intense desire to kneel before Roger and use her mouth to pleasure him. After the spanking, Roger had guided Brenda onto her hands and knees and proceeded to penetrate her from behind, making love to her with a brutal tenderness that brought her to the pinnacle of intense arousal, thrusting his cock into her until she came twice in quick succession—which she almost never did. She had been left exhausted and satisfied. When she woke up in the morning curled around Roger’s naked body, and remembered the kinky sex-play of the previous night, she felt a sudden embarrassment, even though Roger showed an eagerness to make love to her again on the rumpled, sweat-stained bed, bringing her to another orgasm as he held her wrists together over her head. But Roger had never called her back, and Brenda was too embarrassed to pursue him. Maybe she just didn’t want to take the chance that the excitement hadn’t been about Roger, but about her own submission to him.
Years before that, one of the boys she’d dated in college had tied her to his bed while he made love to her, and that had been one of the most intense sexual experiences of her life. But he, too, had stopped calling shortly after so Brenda’s submissive fantasies had for the most part remained exactly that—fantasies.
When she touched herself, Brenda still liked to imagine that she was tied up and blindfolded, being savaged by a tender but insistent lover who whispered dirty things into her ear, an unseen but powerful presence on top of her, the weight of his naked body bearing her down. But she had never actually asked a man to tie her up or to spank her, or even to talk dirty to her, much as she would have liked to.
Her fantasies remained intense, and she sometimes thought that she might find a man with whom she felt comfortable exploring this submissive side of herself.
Brenda wondered how Kristi had gotten so forward as to ask her boyfriends to do these things to her—Brenda was always seized with embarrassment whenever she even thought about it. Kristi seemed incredibly brave to Brenda—every man she brought home seemed to end up playing with her in one way or another. Of course, Kristi’s sexual games didn’t restrict themselves to spanking, though that was her main interest. She and her boyfriends also liked to watch porn videos, which Kristi kept in her room along with the small TV and VCR by her bed. But of course Brenda had seen more than a few of those videos when Kristi was out or away for the weekend with one of her boyfriends. Brenda had even developed quite a liking for videotapes, though she never would have admitted it to Kristi or—God forbid!—a guy.
When Brenda had sneaked into Kristi’s room to explore the videotapes, she had found a couple of other very interesting things. Brenda felt very guilty when she thought about it—she shouldn’t be going through her roommate’s stuff! But she had been unable to stop herself. Under the bed, Brenda had found a box of Polaroids of Kristi in various stages of undress, no doubt taken by a boyfriend. In some of the photos she was wearing a bra and panties, in others she was wearing sexy lingerie. Still others showed her in revealing robes or tight dresses with no underwear, her legs spread and giving naughtylooking beaver shots. But in most of them, she was nude or almost nude. Though the pictures were of terrible quality, the sheer sleaziness had left Brenda feeling intrigued and aroused. But that wasn’t the most exciting thing she had found in Kristi’s bedroom. Brenda had also found a set of leather restraints. She had tried the restraints on, fitting them around her wrists and buckling them tightly, feeling the gentle pressure of the leather. With the Polaroids of her naked roommate scattered about the bed, Brenda had stretched out, imagining what Kristi must have her boyfriends do once they had her restrained. None of the Polaroids showed Kristi in bondage, which only made Kristi’s imagination run wild. She had enjoyed the feeling of the leather restraints around her wrists, and she had found herself gripping the headboard of Kristi’s bed, which she had heard thumping against the wall so many times while Kristi and her boyfriends fucked. Brenda imagined that she was tied to the headboard, restrained by a lover or maybe even an intruder in the apartment. That had turned Brenda on so much she had found herself masturbating on Kristi’s bed, which still smelled deliciously of the previous night’s lovemaking. Brenda had climaxed with her face pressed into Kristi’s pillow, smelling her roommate’s perfume and the even more erotic perfume of her sweat—and that of last night’s lover. It seemed exquisitely the scent of Kristi’s willing and eager submission, the sexiest thing about her. For at least a week, Brenda had been unable to get the smell of that submission out of her mind, and she had felt her nipples stiffen, whether she was at work or home or the gym or on the bus, every time she allowed herself to think about it.
Since then, Brenda had crept into Kristi’s bedroom only a few times while Kristi was out, feeling progressively more guilty each time. But each time, she had found herself on Kristi’s bed, working herself up to a frenzied orgasm.
Brenda’s interest in Kristi’s very active sex life frightened her a little bit. She had always been a little bit of a voyeur, but had never had such an interest in a single woman. Maybe it was just because Kristi was a little bit kinky. Or maybe there was something else going on ... still, Brenda was sure she wasn’t interested in going to bed with Kristi. Brenda felt confident that she was interested in men, and exclusively men. But what she really wanted from the men she slept with, she had never had the guts to ask for, and so her cherished submission remained the stuff of fantasy.