Amy Learns to Serve - F/F

I didn't write this story. It came from a BBS a loooooonng time ago. How many of you even know what a BBS is? ;-)


Let me tell you a little bit about me.  When my great adventure began,
I was young (age 23) and not very experienced.  Oh, I had sex any
number of times, in a number of different ways, but I never felt the
wild excitement in actually doing those things that I imagined in
advance. I had a million different, very kinky fantasies, things
that I really wanted to do but was afraid to try, even if I had the
opportunity to try, which I really didn't have.  Mostly, my fantasies
involved me as a sort of slave girl, captured by some strong
individual.  Some days I imagined my master to be male and sometimes
a female, with special events for each one. What I thought I really
wanted was a strong master or mistress, one who also had wild sexual
fantasies, and who would take charge of me and would then act out
those fantasies, obviously with me playing out the part of slavegirl,
used by a master (or maybe better yet, mistress) in strange and
delicious ways, hopefully with an audience watching, and most delicious
of all, whether I liked it or not. I wanted strange and sexy things
to happen and not have any say as to the agenda, to be used, perhaps
even to be a little bit abused.


      My figure is good, that is, I think it is good, and maybe you
will agree. That is, you will if you like full bodied girls with large,
shapely titties. I am about 5'4", with a nice, full shapely bust, good
legs, and a delicious round bottom.
      After we had done the same things a few times, we began to talk
about fantasies, and he made me tell him mine. It relates to Mrs. Olsen,
who was my landlady, and who really disliked me. If I ever was going
to try the slave girl experience, totally controlled by another, she
would be absolutely my first choice. Now the weird thing about her was
that she once had been a strong disciplinarian, a teacher in one of
those strange schools where the students are punished. I overheard
her telling a lady friend once that she did have an experience. She
had a student who badly needed the discipline, and nothing  that Mrs.
Olsen ever did seemed to make that one shape up. Repeated applications
of the leather did not make any difference.  The cure for her,
according to Mrs. Olsen,was that she was given a thorough stropping,
forced to take a number of tablespoons of castor oil, thank Mrs. Olsen
foreach one, stropped some more, and then given a large mouthful of
Mrs. Olsen's shit to eat, a tablespoonful at a time.
     I overheard this and never forgot it. And, I am sure, I
masturbated about it a thousand times.  That was my fantasy. I wanted
to be taken over by somebody who disliked me, stripped, spanked
thoroughly, made to eat her pussy, and then more humiliating things.
     Now understand about Mrs. Olsen.  She is tall and strong, a very
handsome woman, with a very potent personality.  She is about 45.
There is no Mr. Olsen around.  I do not know if she is a widow or a
divorcee, she is not the kind of person that you ask questions of.
We genuinely do not like each other.  I think she is overbearing.
She thinks that I am wild, spoiled, disrespectful.  While she is my
landlady, I cannot wait to get out of there, and she cannot wait to
have me gone. But she still is very much in my fantasies.
     This story, embellished somewhat, is what I told to Tom. He is
very interested in this, and says that he is going to look into
making it all happen. He had me write him a letter, detailing all this,
though how exactly he plans to make use of it, I do not know.
     Today, Tom called at lunch time and asked me to come over this
evening, and to be sure to be there before 8:00 PM.  He says that we
might, just might, have company, though he won't say who and he won't
say what.  I am fantasizing about this, have been all day now, not
knowing what to expect. Today is Thursday, I thought, and today is the
day that perhaps I am going to meet my fate. Thomas had heard my story
and questioned me on it in detail.  He knew what I think I want. He
was delighted to help me, to play in our little drama. He had my
letter, written in my own hand, addressed to him, which detailed
everything.  He had also purchased a pint bottle of castor oil at
the drug store, the only item on the list that he did not have in
advance.  And he had made the calls, I believe, talked to Mrs. Olsen,
explained our relationship, and had her surprised (and he says,
delighted and enthusiastic) agreement to participate.  He told her
that he had been regularly spanking me, had nude photos of me that he
knew she would want to see, and had ideas of advanced discipline for
me that he wanted to discuss with her.  She was cautious, but
interested. After all, this was really right up her alley, and it was
being handed to her on a silver platter, so to speak. This time, for
the first time, I did not drive to his place. I knew that if the
adventure was going to go according to his plan that I would be taken
home, in bondage, by Mrs. Olsen. My car would only be in the way.
     I went there by cab, dressed as usual in jeans and a sweater.
The clothes made no difference.  I would be nude as soon as I got
there.  Thomas' house was no different than at any other time.  The
furnishings are sparse, but adequate. The room down in the basement,
which was the "playroom" had wood paneled walls, with various hooks
and eyes, and the large, very sturdy oak library table with a padded
top. On the floor stood a brown paper bag.  I was instructed to strip
down to my panties, but to leave them on, a pair of black nylon bikini
panties that he had bought for me that he liked. I was to put each
article of clothing that I removed into that paper bag. Soon enough
I was almost nude, trembling slightly, though not from fright.
Thomas had seen me nude now a number of times and had used me in the
various ways that a punished girl is used. Instead, I was trembling
in anticipation. This might be the night that Mrs. Olsen would join
us, and if she did, there was no telling how the agenda might go.
This time, for preparation, all that happened was that Tom put wrist
cuffs on me and fastened my wrists behind my back.  I was helpless.
And I was wondering if she would appear, and if she did appear if
she would participate and if she did participate, how severe she
would be with me.
     I had fantasies about how she would be dressed. No matter
what she had on top, I knew that she would wear a black merry widow,
a short corset like garment, only hip length, and with that, black
opera length hose and garters.  And of course, black panties that
revealed more than they hid, through which would clearly be visible
her fulsome behind. I had seen her dressed this way, and it really
depressed me. It also really excited me.  I had visions of kissing
that large, shapely bottom, of thrusting my tongue up inside and I
hated these visions.  And secretly begged that she make it happen.
     I stood, just marking time. The phone range. Tom went upstairs to
talk, and seemed gone forever. Then the doorbell rang. I could hear
voices as he answered upstairs, but could not identify who was there.
I could only hope. Footsteps could be heard, two pair were coming
down the stairs  and there she was!! Mrs. Velma Olsen stood there,
looking just gorgeous, dressed in a simple, severe black dress.  She
looked around the room, looked finally at me, standing wearing only
my panties, my wrists fastened behind my back.
     "My dear", she said. "You cannot imagine how glad I am to see
you here.  And looking so lovely, too". I stood still as her hands
ran across my lower body, fondling my bottom, gently squeezing one
cheek of my ass.  Her hands ran up my front, taking hold of each
bare breast and fondling me.  She took my nipples, each between a
thumb and forefinger and gently squeezed, bringing them to instant
erection, and using my nipples to pull by, dragged me in very close.
     "Let me see your tongue", she commanded.
     I opened my mouth, showed her the tip of my tongue.
     Squeezing somewhat harder,she ordered me "Further,darling.  Stick
it all the way out so that I can see it."
     I complied.  She opened her mouth, and we deep kissed. And gently,
she bit down on my tongue. Not very hard, but hard enough.  This was
not at all what I had expected.
     "My dear", she said, "Tom has told me how naughty you have been.
I am not really surprised, but it is nice to have confirmation that
I have been correct.  He has asked that I help in modifying your
behavior.  Won't that be fun?"  And insaying that she squeezed hard
on each erect nipple, making me gasp. She removed the black frock.
She did not have the merry widow on, rather, she was wearing only a
sexy looking deep cut black bra, and black panty hose.  This
emphasized her curvaceous figure, and with her high heels, she had
a totally queenly appearance. Tom, watching closely his eyes popping
out at the sight  was obviously very erect. It seemed certain that
at least for now, he was going to be a voyeur in this drama not a
direct participant.  It also seemed that he did not mind in the least.
     Velma sat, and pulled me over her lap, bottom up. Her hands
fondled my bikini clad rump, squeezing here and there, probing a bit.
A hand ran inside the waist band and squeezed naked flesh, not hard,
but rather more a loving squeeze.  She quickly pulled my panties down,
tugged them all the way off, and asked me to open my legs so that she
could see all my parts. Her hands probed here and there.  First a
finger touched all around my vulva, testing for creaminess. I was
sopping wet. The finger probed inward, deeply, came out again and
rubbed gently across my now erect clit, almost making me leap off
her lap.  The finger found its way between the upturned cheeks of
my bottom, found the rosebud pointing up at her, gently forced its
way inside, full depth.  This also seemed to please her.
     "Ooh yes, you are just lovely," she said, "just the way I knew
you would be". And she raised her right hand and spanked me fiercely
across one cheek of my upturned bottom.  Very slowly, she lectured
me on good behavior, punctuating almost every point with another
hard swat on my bare ass, first on one cheek and then the other,
alternating back and forth it seemed, to be sure that each side got
its fair share.  Well, each side got more than its fair share.  Very
soon she brought me to tears. This went on for a while, much longer
than I had expected, and much more of a spanking than Tom had ever
given me. I was crying now, not knowing what to say. I begged her
to stop, promising her as a little girl might that I would be good,
that I would never again be disrespectful, that I would obey her in
anything, just anything, that she might want me to do.  She pushed
me off onto the floor, ordered me to kneel before her. Now understand
how I felt. I had truly been punished and my bottom felt like it
was on fire. I felt humiliated to betreated this way, and to have
Tom see me treated this way. I felt totally ashamed of myself for
getting myself into this situation. And I felt totally under her
control. But most of all, I felt absolutely, orgasmically excited.
She was Queen, she was in charge, and what would happen was
completely up to her.  What she wanted from me, she would get!!!
     She took off her black bra, and showed me (and Tom) a pair of
delicious, shapely, large breasts. She offered me a thick, dark
brown nipple to kiss. I had no doubts whatever about what was
going to happen now, and I did just as she indicated she wanted
me to do, I leaned forward, and took that luscious morsel into
my mouth and sucked it lovingly.  Shortly, her hand found my
earlobe, and pulled me downward.  She shucked her black underpants,
spread her husky, shapely thighs, and showed me a musky crotch,
obviously excited that she wanted me to kiss as a gesture of
submission. And all the time that I had known her, hated her,
always I had known that this was what I really wanted.  I had
dreamed about it a thousand times, the thought of me being on
my knees, kneeling before her widespread thighs, peering into
her open, expectant crotch, looking at the pink lips and her
erect clit, standing up and awaiting my kiss. I knew the significance
of this position. I was going to lean forward and kiss her there, and
suck her juices, and give her pleasure.  And by so doing, she was
going to take possession of me to use me any way that she chose to
use me in the future. I was going to be converted to her slave girl,
and she would own me and operate me.
     I buried my face in it, her gorgeous, feminine cunt, tasting her
juices, enjoying the strange flavors and enjoying the sexy, gorgeous
feeling of humiliation of doing this with Tom watching.  He loved it.
I was still on my knees between her thighs when she reached to the
table for the bottle of castor oil, and a tablespoon. A large spoonful
was poured, and offered to me.  I pursed my lips, knowing that no
taste did I hate so much as this.  I refused.  She smiled, reached
over and took a nipple, and pinched HARD.  It hurt, really hurt.  I
screamed, not understanding her sudden change in mood.
     She said, "Now there, you are being willful, disobedient.
That is exactly what I am going to correct." She pinched again,
and I immediately opened my mouth wide, and got for my troubles
the tablespoonful of the castor oil. I gagged on it, but managed to
swallow it down.
     "Would you like another?" she asked. When I gasped out NOOO,
she pinched again, saying "Now thatis the WRONG answer, darling.
Let me ask again. Would you like another?"
     I knew what would happen if I said no again.  I did not know
what to say.  She said it for me.  She said "May I have another,
that would be the way that you would say it if you had good manners".
And with that, she gave me another pinch, this time not so hard but
still hard enough. And of course, I did ask for another, and was duly
rewarded with a large spoonful, and then a moment later, another and
another.........
     I was let alone for a while, while Velma and Tom disappeared
upstairs.  They were gone for a long time.  When they cameback, I
could see that Tom had lost his erection.  Velma sat down again
before me, her thighs spread again, and beckoned me to kiss her.
I did, of course, and found now that she was ever so much more juicy
than before, a totally different flavor, too.  Obviously, out of my
sight, they had fucked. She had paid Tom, in a sense, for turning me
over to her for discipline, and she had thanked him in the manner he
liked best.
     Velma reached into her purse, and found a new toy, a large nipple
clip that she attached to one of my nipples, and snapped a leash
onto it.  This was a new way to lead somebody around.  She found
my coat, threw it over my shoulders, took the leash in one hand,
the paper bag with my clothes in the other, said goodbye to Tom,
and led me out to her car.  As she led me, her attitude seemed to
be that of a great lady who had just procured a new toy, and now
meant to take it home and play with it in depth. I was the toy.
And I knew this game that we were going to play. She was going
to make the rules and I was going to abide by them, without any
limits. She would be judge and jury and enforcer.
    In the car, she reached into the coat, took my other breast in
her hand and very gently fondled it, rubbing the nipple. She turned
her face to me, and offered me a very wet kiss,and as well, a totally
confusing mixture of sensations and feelings. Her hand ran
between my thighs, into my pussy, feeling its wetness.  She gently,
very gently frigged my clit, bringing me almost, but not quite to
orgasm. And she nibbled on my ear lobe, and thrust a tongue into
my ear, in the meanwhile whispering "Darling girl, I am going to
be yourteacher, and I am going to just loooovvvvee being your
teacher.  You are just going to love it.  Did you enjoy going
down on me?"
     Considering the remarkable talent she had shown for pinching
my nipples and making me do her thing, I knew I had better give the
right answer. I said that I loved it.
     "Good", she said, "since you like it so well, do it again,
right now." So, for another ten or fifteen minutes we sat parked
in front of Tom's house, my face buried in her humid cunt, my
tongue sucking her clit, and all the while, that castor oil was
doing its insidious work, taking me ever closer to that particular
point of no return.
     Away we drove, finally, towards home. I was certain that I would
never make it there, considering the wild sensations in my bowels.
Somehow, I did manage to hold on long enough, my stomach heaving
and quenching as she led me up the stairs, firmly holding the leash.
I begged for permission to go to the bathroom, and to my surprise,
it was granted without question.  Velma was for the moment in her
sweet phase.
     I came back out, and was granted permission to shower
and to rest a bit. Rest for what?  Well, as it turned out, for
quite a bit more. An hour later, after relaxing and watching the
evening news on TV, she ordered me up. My hands were fastened
behind my back again, and after some really  loving type gentle
play with my nipples, we began to discuss discipline.  She
reviewed my conduct over the past several years that we had known
each other.  She pointed to a number of specific instances where,
she thought, I could have, should have behaved differently. Now,
she told me, she was going to teach me a number of things, but
better manners and better behavior and total obedience to recognized
authority were certainly vital parts of the lessons. Obviously,
she was now the recognized authority that she referred to.
     To determine if I was sufficiently obedient, she turned her
back to me, bent forward to give me a delightful view of her
bare ass, her legs spread so that I could see her brown rosette,
almost winking at me. I knew what she wanted me to do, to give it a
long, wet, sweet thrusting kiss.  At that point, I could not.
She said that this was disobedience, exactly what she had meant.
And announcing this, she bent me over the end of the couch,
my bottom raised.  She left me there for a moment, went to fetch
something from the closet, and showed it to me, a wicked looking
leather strap, about 18" long, 3" wide, and the end cut into
three separate tongues of leather.  She told me that it was a
trainer, sometimes called a tawse, but by any name a marvelous
tool for one job, for teaching. She said that nature had provided
every female a place to be taught, her naked behind. There,
lessons could be given, that might be painful for the moment,
but they would be remembered and no permanent harm would come.
     And with that, she raised thetawse, and SSSSSPPPPLLLAAATTT!!
a fiery streak, right across the crowns of both cheeks. I
screamed out. She said nothing, and for a long time, the only
sound in the room was the voice from the TV.  Time dragged,
and my behind was on fire. I had never really felt anything
like it before. And then, SSSSSPPPPPPPLLLAAATTTT!!  Again, she
burned my bottom, as before. And now it hurt twice as much, if
that is possible. I was sobbing, crying, begging her to let me
go. All that got me was a third and then a fourth shot of the
wicked tawse across my rump. She asked me questions about
things I had done the previous year, about things I had said,
about Tom. She wanted to know if I had been letting him fuck
me. I said no. That immediately earned me another vicious swat
with the tawse.  Again she asked, and this time I confessed.
She wanted to know if I had him use me up the ass.  I denied
it, and got yet another stroke.  I confessed that Tom had been
using me anally. She noted that down for future reference, as
if that was another transgression that she intended to cure.
I was crying hysterically now, willing to tell her anything,
willing to confess to any sin, and getting in the process a
barn burner of a spanking.  Suddenly it stopped.  She said to
me, "What would you like to do, now?"
     I knew there was only one answer to that question, and I
said it, "Please let me show you, let me kiss your beautiful ass."
She smiled slightly, bent forward again, and again, offered her
brown rosette to my tongue. Now, finally, I did what I had always
really wanted to do.  I thrust my tongue against it, probed
inward slightly, tasted her strange flavor, and gave her thusly
the kiss of total obedience. She left the room.  After what
seemed a long time, she returned, carrying a paper plate.  I
knew what would happen next, and sure enough, she found a spoon,
and then asked me if I wanted my dessert now.  I gulped, cried
again, and said nooooo.  And for that refusal, got another two
strokes of the tawse.  She asked again, and knowing that this
would go on until I said yes I did so. She made me request it,
made me ask her to please feed me my dessert.