An Intricate Weaving Pt. 01-02

"Jeune femme, this is not zee laughing matter. You are a wild untamed fille and we need to introduce structure and proper etiquette into your world. This tardiness and lack of form will need to cesser." His jaw twitched.

I was grinning like a kid in a candy store. It seemed he went all gooey and Frenchy when he got all animated. Was little ole me causing all that excitement? I uncrossed my legs. Sheesh I stunk. "You will need to be punished for your actions, no?"

I just nodded dreamily, a tad anxiously. Oh yes, I needed to be spanked... bad. "Uh huh..." was all I could manage. My imagination was running at full tilt.

"You will meet me in my office at cinq o'clock... okay ma belle fille?"

More stupid nodding had me wondering what the hell he'd just said. It sounded very pretty. I wandered dreamily away, sloshing in my sticky juices determined to investigate the words he'd spoken. 'Ma belle fille' sounded so damned romantic!

****

My beautiful girl... I was his beautiful girl. I'd typed those three exotic French words into my online translator and nearly orgasmed. Now, as I prepared to knock on the sturdy door before me, the one emblazoned with the title, Professor of History, the Hon Dr Dion Deneuve PhD, I was simmering like a once dormant mud pool subjected to an imminent eruption. I was hot, clammy and oozy. Just about ingredient perfect!

Oh, he seemed very important. PhD must mean Practicing Heterosexual Dominant. Ooh. I knocked softly. It was precisely cinq o'clock. That's five o'clock, I looked it up.

"Entrez chaton." Okay, I needed to look that one up later too because it sounded really hot. I tentatively pushed open the heavy door and it squeaked as if mimicking my own composure. "Please have a seat Lucy." He was smiling. That was a good thing right? I shuffled onto the hard backed chair and tucked my miserable excuse for a skirt under my bum. Why I'd chosen the tartan school girl pleated porn star look still defied comprehension. "Ma charmante fille, do you think you require order to your life?" Of course I was just going to dreamily agree to everything so I nodded eagerly. "In order to achieve structure one must first recognize the order." Sounded very complex, but hey he had the PhD stuff. "If I may, I would like to introduce you to the order of life. Belle, it is paramount that you have a mentor, someone you can look up to and follow ze direction."

"Like my dad?" I stupidly blurted out.

"No, well a little bit." He smiled. "More like a pet has a Master."

Ooh, this sounded very exciting.

"I would volunteer to be that person, the one who would set your boundaries and give you direction. If you like, it would be like you were my pet puppy dog, and you would be set tasks and your singular roll would be to complete those tasks without question or complaint. Of course this would please me and I would reward you. The result of this relationship would free you of responsibility, enabling you to function to your full potential without worry or thought to those mundane things that seem to trip you up in life."

"So I'd be your slave?" That was said a bit too enthusiastically. I dropped my voice an octave or six. "You mean, like, I'd have to take orders from you and stuff?" I tried to appear concerned. I may have failed.

"Well, yes. That would be a part of the equation. You need to take commands because without any such structure you will continue to stumble."

"Um, okay..."

"So, how would you feel if I was to assume that leadership role and set you tasks and duties to perform?"

"Ahh, well..." I wanted to blurt out 'god yes' but refrained for fear of appearing easy.

"I'd assign you various class and school study tasks. I'd set boundaries and both reward and chastise you if need be, dependent on the success or failure of those tasks. Of course, as with all Dominant slash submissive relationships, there would be a sexual component..."

I was wondering when he'd get to the juicy bit.

"I am married,"... bummer... "to my beautiful wife Vanessa, but we have a certain... shall we say... understanding. Our marriage is an open relationship. I have her permission to take a lover, as she in turn has mine. My last submissive, who was with me for six years, left for her home in Europe, to attend her ailing father. I have been six months without my precious belle fille and it is now time for me to move on. From the moment I first saw you, my chaton, I knew you were 'the' one. That first time, like every time since, when you stumbled noisily into my class wearing those ridiculous outfits, always late and flushed like a bitch in heat, I knew you were mine."

Fuck, and I thought I was being discreet!

"So, what do you say?"

Oh shit... think girl. "Err, thank you Master?" Okay, I wasn't thinking clearly. Pussy was driving the bus. The professor stumbled a bit, gripping the back of a chair for support.

"Alrighty then," he croaked, "firstly let's get down to business."

"I agree!" I nodded, beaming and bouncing in place, still not sure of what I'd signed up too. But I was nevertheless ecstatic in having been selected.

"Your constant lateness needs addressing." He sauntered over to the door... and twisted the lock. Oh shit. "This will be your first chastisement and hopefully it will be your last concerning this grave matter." He reached into his draw and withdrew a cute little pink alarm clock. I knew it was an alarm clock because it had two pink bells for ears and the face of a kitten. This has been pre-set and you will arise the instant it sounds, are we clear?"

"Yes SIR!" He handed me the clock and I pretended to examine it, hoping to feign interest. It was after all just a bloody clock, and I was hoping for something a little more... personal. It was cute but.

"Now we must address the punishment with relation to the continued tardiness." He seemed to be thinking aloud. I sat the clock down; fearful my shaking hands might drop my recently acquired present. "I feel that the delivery of ten good solid swats to your arriere might just about suffice on this occasion." I nodded feeling vacant and dizzy. "Stand up now, turn and bend over the chair. Place your hands on the chairs arms for support." I complied quickly, needily... fearing the deluge gathered within my sex might soon become apparent, and the humiliation of anticipating the sticky goo perhaps sliding down my inner thighs had me blushing red. "Yes good; just like that"

Now naively I assumed the 'swots' might be delivered over my skimpy skirt. Nope.

"I must raise this little skirt up, so as it does not interfere with my delivery."

Of course; how silly of me. One needed a proper go at swotting.

"My god, your panties are soaked!"

Bugger, forgot about that. My brain was mushed.

"We will have to remove them also; they are just too soiled to stay in place."

Of course they are. Yes, they should go; just my pink bare bottom should be displayed. I was getting a bit delirious. I could vaguely distinguish my 'soiled' undies being tugged down my quivering thighs, but my poor brain was in la-la land.

"There, this is much preferred." Warm finger danced over my soft freckled rump, like the tentacles of a horny octopussy. Stay focused girl. Those same tentacles pulled my bum cheeks apart and a breeze akin to a cyclone swirled into my overheated sex. "My god, it is like ze swamp in here!"

I have no idea if the probing fingers were entirely necessary to gauge the murkiness of said swamp, but I howled like a banshee as that first orgasm grabbed me and flung my clueless body into a ravine of bottomless pleasure. Somewhere, out in the void I detected laughter.

"You are very responsive my belle chanton." His mirth was evident. My quivering chanton was still purring when the first wet blow struck my defenseless buttocks. I cried out with a mixed sensation of horror, pain and pleasure. Where had the later come from? By the fifth strike I was bawling like a baby, and then the massive orgasm, which dropped in like a tornado out of nowhere, all but killed me. I might have passed out at around the count of eight, still contracting so hard my poor brain just gave out.

The next thing I knew I was sobbing quietly, wrapped in big strong arms. His masculine aroma confused me, settled me... and it claimed me. I knew in that waking moment that I had indeed been claimed forever more, a compliant submissive slave to my Master. Well that's how my fuzzy mind thought of it at the time anyway. Yeah I read too many silly books.

So I now belonged to another man, a mature intelligent married man, content to obey and perform as he commanded and I clearly understood the context of that relationship going forward. I would give both my mind and my body to him to do as he pleased and I would serve him until death... and yet I was still an 18 year old virgin. Go figure.

****

Chapitre Deux.

LUCY.

Life had taken on a new hue. Colour transformed the greyness and it seemed like I was now living some vivid Technicolor dream.

The world kept turning and my progression as a fully-fledged mistress, apprentice submissive and needful slave, evolved as quickly as the days unravelled.

At first it was just simple commands. When the school day finished I was to go to his office to collect my instructions. I'd receive a bare bottom open handed smacking if I had faltered in any way. Of course I wiggled and squirmed at his command, and it certainly wasn't the stinging pain or the embarrassment of the punishment that focused me. It was the sighs of his disappointment, the sorrow in his countenance that drove me to do better. I wanted... needed... to please him. He'd send me home with implicit instructions on what I was to collect from the supermarket and how I was to prepare the nightly meal. He seemed to find time to meticulously prepare and organise my life. I ate better, slept better, and I'd wake at an absurdly crazy early hour to the sound of 'meows' emanating from that ridiculous pussy cat alarm clock. I'd actually bounce about the house excitedly anticipating my new day, reading through my instructions and following each to a tee.

I will admit in hind sight that I was perhaps a silly impressionistic young girl but I realize even now that it was exactly what I needed. And I became a better person having experienced it.

Oh, and then there was the sex. At eighteen I'd only ever had two boyfriends and other than the heavy petting and occasional exploratory grope and tongue drill; I'd never gone any further. I guess those 'boys' just didn't do it for me. I needed the control and I longed for a real man. Of course I had no idea the man I would find would be nearly old enough to be my father, but when my Master selected me, that thought strangely never entered my mind. It just seemed natural and right. So sex with my Master started out gently. The obligatory insertion of talented fingers when he was pleased with me and the constant kissing and sucking of my seemingly permanently aroused nipples always had me panting for more.

But then it happened. I remember that conversation well. It was a Friday evening and a defining moment in my life.

"Pet..."

"Yes Master...?" I was panting heavily. He'd tied me to his office chair with my hands behind my back, and my breasts had been dug from my bra and currently sat high and exposed atop my t-shirt, held aloft like ripe melons. My dumb nipples were trying to ping across the room like straining buttons. Oh, and he was flicking them with his tongue. That wasn't helping with my dilemma. On top of that he was stroking his thumb over my panties, right over the puffy red lips of my vulva. I was going to blow any second. I think he liked my tits. They were probably my best asset and being a bit skinny framed my 36's seemed a shade large and somewhat disproportionate to my body. There was this one freckle, a large one just to the left of my left nipple. That little raised bump of purple stood out like a lone date palm on the Mount of Olives and it fascinated him.

"I want to take you home pet, and introduce you to my wife and to Charlie her lover. If you all get along I'm going to take your virginity. Is this acceptable?"

"Yes... Master, that... would be... cool." My body was fizzing like a Catherine wheel. He pulled my panty crutch aside and pressed hard against my clit, sinking his fingers into my folds.

"Good girl, now come for me my belle fille."

I happily obliged and howled my head off. It was so strange that he could make me come on command. It was like we were conjointly tuned. Finally I regained some semblance of normality, squinting through heavy lids and squirming wetly in my bonds. My Master was gathering up his books and had arbitrarily donned his tweed jacket, preparing for the normality of a weekend ahead.

"It's time to take you home to meet the wife, my precious one. Be on your best behavior, follow my leads and I'm sure you'll make a good impression. I so much want her to approve of you." He chuckled at my furious nodding, still trussed like a turkey with legs split each side of the desk chair and breasts exposed like some cow anxiously waiting a milking. My udders felt heavy and my sex required mopping, but I so much wanted to please him and the promise of the removal of my virginity had me puffing and panting like a giddy dog expecting a biscuit.

Ooh... goodie.

****

Mrs Deneuve was a heart stopping beautiful woman. I guessed she stood 5'8 or 5'9 but her heels were crazy so it was a bit hard to gauge her exact height. She was platinum blonde and I reckoned it was natural because there were no tell-tale signs of root miss-coloring. She had one of those modern angular straight cut hair styles, like an impressionist bob cut. It suited her formidable stance and she wore that noticeable armour of dominant power, just like her husband did.

I suddenly felt like a little insignificant weed. Two powerful oaks stood over me, examining my frightful inadequacies and I trembled.

"My god she's so cute darling!" Vanessa examined me after we'd been introduced and cheek kissed. We were still standing in the hallway of what could only be described as an opulent and expansive mansion. "Where did you find this cute little beauty?"

"Lucy is one of my students. As I've told you, she stood out; always late, hopelessly incompetent and totally disorganized!" He chuckled at my blush. I kind of twisted in my Mary Janes feeling small and stupid.

"Oh, so she's just how you like them then; a klutz in need of training, with nice big tits and your favourite attribute; a natural redhead with freckles. I bet you thought all your Christmas's had come at once darling." Vanessa laughed and gripped my shoulders, turning me about as if to inspect some prize pony. "I love the slutty little school girl look; very nice."

Hey, I'm not slutty. Well the pinafore was a bit short but Master likes me like this! Maybe Vanessa is a bitch.

"Yeah it's my second favourite look on her. Do you like her legs?"

They were treating me like some piece of meat! My sex pinged. What was my problem?

"Oh, yes, very nice. Lift her skirt and let me see." She stepped back a yard to peruse the merchandise. Maser complied and lifted my pleated pinafore high enough to expose my white cotton undies. She chuckled. "So innocent and pure; I like where you're going with her darling. Bring her inside and undress her. I want to see her naked."

My legs went wobbly.

"You're going to like her. The tits are exquisite." Master practically had to shove me into the living room because my dumb legs wouldn't work. He positioned me square on in front of the now seated Vanessa. I swayed in place fighting a dizzy spell. Big fingers popped the buttons to my uniform and then the shoulder straps released and my pinafore succumbed to gravity, fluttering down my traitorous legs to pool about the bright red school shoes. He bent down behind me to help lift each foot clear of the fabric. I didn't expect my panties to be yanked down just at that same moment. Sheesh, a girl needs time to adjust. I went to cover my whatsit when a female hand smacked them harshly aside.

"Silly girl!" Vanessa chastised. "You will need to get over your shyness around here. When you enter this house you will always strip naked, and present yourself to me for inspection." She eyed me, one brow raised as if expecting a response. I reacted instantly.

"Yes ma'am." That seemed to please her. Evidently said inspection was underway because her trained eye roved over my excited pussy.

"What is that!?" She exclaimed, appearing cross and nodded in the direction of my now cowering kitty.

"Um, that's my..."

"Shut up child. Speak when directed. I was asking my husband."

"Well dear, I haven't had her waxed yet. I know what you're thinking, but I wanted to seek your approval of my pet first, before I groom her for service."

"Humph. Okay, but for god's sake get rid of that rats nest. It looks like it's on fire for Christ sake!" She appeared pissed. Sheesh, it's just my pubic hair. Okay so it is a bit wild but...

"Would you like to see her tits? They're quite something..." Master was trying to change the subject and I appreciated his efforts at diversion. I did hope to do better with my 'tits'. He forcefully hauled my t-shirt up over my head but left me stranded with my arms raised and the material stuck in place preventing vision. I wriggled about trying to free myself when the cold air-conditioned air spiked my wayward nipples as Master reefed my bra up around my neck. I must have looked like a headless squirming Greek marble, only I was freckled. "Well, what do you think...?" A hand lifted my left breast... presumably for inspection. I tried to stick them out proudly, but I was still trapped inside my t-shirt and squirming.

"Hmm, nice. Charlie, come in here for a second and tell me what you think of these tits?"

"Yes Mistress."

I wanted to die.

Footsteps approached. "So, what do you think?"

"Not bad; full and high. The nipples are nicely spiked. Can I have a feel?"

"Of course silly boy. How the hell can you evaluate tits without coping a feel? Stupid man!"

Oh my god. Some stranger was kneading my breasts! The bloody t-shirt was stuck over my head, my arms are up and some prick is weighing my assets, evaluating their worth!

"Pet, stop wriggling and hold still." The soothing voice in my ear settled my anxiety. "Push them out and be proud."

"Yes Master." I wanted to be good.

"These are spectacular tits Mistress. Master will like these. I'd give them a nine out of ten. That one freckle spoils a perfect score." He fingered Master's favourite freckle and I fizzed like a carrot. Okay, so carrots don't fizz, but you get the idea.

"Shit Charlie, I really like that little nubby thing." Master waved my tits as if to reinforce some point. "So darling, what do you think?"

"Okay, she's got nice breasts and I can see why you like the girl. I understand she was a virgin when you found her. Has she been deflowered yet?"

"No, I want to fuck her tonight and bed her cunt onto my cock."

"I really don't want you taking the sluts virginity. That's a bit too intimate. Let Charlie take her first, he's smaller than you anyway and it'll be easier on the girl. Once he's unloaded you can bed her in at will. Is this acceptable?"

"Do I have a choice?" Master sounded a bit peeved.

Someone was pulling the damned t-shirt off over my head and I gasped relief. Hell, husband and wife were having a spat over who deflowered me! Did I even have a say. I checked out Charlie. Wow, he was... naked! My googly eyes scanned the lean mean piece of masculine meat and his semi erect manhood swayed like the pendulum I suspected hung from London's Big Ben. I mean I'd checked out penises before on the internet but seeing a big one up close was pretty awesome. I couldn't help staring at it. Suddenly I felt a nervous chill. Master was bigger than that?! I mean I'd felt Master's prize before through his pants, but feeling it was obviously deceiving. Where the hell was the rest of it if he was bigger than the hypnotising veined monster that swung gently before me? My sex was definitely leaking and my brain was struggling to comprehend the significance of what was being so calmly discussed.