First Forays

[Jewel]

First Forays
By Chloe Sterling (http://www.ruthiesclub.com/fold.php?pg=author&a=319)

Stacy eases the bus to a stop, just even with the bus stop sign. She prides herself on her ability to provide a smooth ride and not jolt her passengers around, especially those who have to stand in the aisle on rainy days like this one. The floor gets awfully slippery. Other drivers find it amusing to stop quickly and watch in the mirror as people slide around, trying to remain upright with backpacks and satchels. Her passenger side wheels mere inches from the curb, she opens the front door, then the back door and waits for passengers to exit and enter. This is her second to last stop on this shift. At the next stop she’ll pass her seat to the next driver.

She pulls up to the Student Center as smoothly as always, opens both doors, puts the bus in neutral, and sets the four-way lights and parking brake. The next driver, Rachel, is already standing beside her as she gathers up her jacket, umbrella, and backpack from behind the seat.

“Doing anything fun tonight?” Rachel asks as she settles her own belongings behind the seat.

“Huh. What do you think?”

“Right, of course not. Studying as usual, I take it.”

“You know it. See you tomorrow!”

As she steps off the bus, the rain intensifies, pelting down in fat, hard drops that almost feel like sleet on the bare skin of her arms. Before her mouse-brown hair becomes completely drenched, she opens her umbrella and makes her way across the Commons, glad she has no evening classes tonight. She heads for her dorm to begin working on a Biological Anthropology paper that’s due in two weeks.

She turns the key in her door lock and, as she pushes it open, she hears a screech from inside.

Lovely, she thinks. Amanda is home. Loud, messy, sometimes obnoxious Amanda. I hope she leaves soon so I can get to work on this paper. Stacy prefers quiet and order in her home-away-from-home, so she can study hard and maintain her full-ride scholarship.

She pushes into the room as Amanda drops the phone back in its cradle and turns to her, a giant smile on her round face, green eyes revealing excitement.

“We’re going to a party tonight, and that’s that. You can’t say no. If I have to drag you by the hair, you’re going with me. It’s time you came out of that shell, young lady!”

Stacy’s nerveless fingers drop her dripping umbrella and backpack to the floor at her feet. She’s in shock. Amanda has never invited her to a party before. To bars, yes, but never to a party with her friends. She secretly envies Amanda’s popularity and busy social schedule. Join that? Oh, yes, in a heartbeat!

“No, I can’t. I have to start this paper, and I have a Sociology test on Friday, and...”

Amanda’s manicured nails wave off her excuses. “What did I just say, young lady? You’re going and that’s all there is to it!”

At ten PM, two primped, powdered, dressed-to-the-nines girls leave the dorm. Stacy wears her low-rider jeans—the ones she rarely wears because they make her feel very self-conscious—and heeled boots. The sheer, short top belongs to Amanda, who insisted that Stacy had nothing suitable of her own. Stacy also wears more make-up than she’s used to, but it’s not overdone. Her totally average brown eyes now have the hue and luster of polished exotic Bibakao seeds.

The two young women get in Amanda’s old Chevy Cavalier. Amanda drives like a rabbit chased by a dog. The car bounds from one side of the road to the other, weaving through traffic, as Amanda drops a constant stream of chatter on Stacy. Stacy tries not to be too obvious about gripping the armrests as the car hurtles along the streets and stops in front of a house so hard it rocks on its springs. The two girls get out of the car and enter a house from which loud music pours.

Stacy tries not to stare at the seething mass of humanity that confronts her when she passes through the doorway. After her initial shock, she begins to sort out individual faces and recognizes some of them from the few bar trips she’s made with Amanda. She turns to point out a group of Amanda’s friends, but her roommate isn’t there. Amanda has left her alone in this crowd of people she barely knows.

A hand lightly touches her arm, and she turns back to find a slim, pale woman with hair the color of ebony, head slightly cocked, gazing up at her from a couple of inches height difference. Stacy doesn’t recognize her as one of Amanda’s friends. Pale blue eyes that remind her of icebergs in the Arctic contemplate her from deep within the nearly ghostly white face, while lips the color of a dying sunset part slightly in a half smile. Stacy has never seen such a creature as this in all her nineteen years of life. She inhales, and discovers the scent of jasmine emanating from the woman. Stacy’s gaze, quite beyond her control, trails down from the round face to find a black velvet dress with a very deep neckline showing off some fantastic cleavage, a moonstone on a silver chain centered in the middle. Stacy feels her face begin to flush as her eyes continue down to the narrow waist and all the wonderful curves below it.

“I’m Madeline,” the woman says. “And you’re Stacy. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Stacy stares at those beautiful eyes and wonders who could have told this fascinating creature anything about her.

“Amanda said I’d like you. She was right.”

Well, that answers one question, Stacy thinks. But why would Amanda tell her anything about me in the first place?

Madeline’s soft, warm hand slips down Stacy’s arm, and the fingers entwine with hers. Madeline turns and starts across the room. Stacy has no choice but to follow, although she has no thought to leave. She is intrigued by Madeline, and why Amanda thought they should meet. She’s not sure why she can’t take her eyes off this woman. She’s never had a woman’s eyes remind her of anything in particular, and she can’t recall ever paying attention to what a woman smelled like. Madeline weaves through the crowd like a cat through legs, and they emerge at the bottom of a grand staircase leading to the second floor. Without hesitation, Stacy follows when Madeline begins to climb. The two women enter an unoccupied bedroom. Stacy pries her unwilling gaze from Madeline to take in her new surroundings.

The room is painted bright red with black trim. Several framed images adorn the walls. They appear to be portraits of nearly naked people in strange poses, but Stacy cannot quite tell from this distance. A single large window overlooks what appears to be an archaic courtyard with a large stone fountain in the center. The bed is covered with a black satin comforter and red pillows ... and several leather and metal pieces that Stacy can’t identify. She wonders what Amanda has gotten her into.

Madeline drops Stacy’s hand and moves to the side of the bed. She reaches down to pick up one of the leather pieces. She toys with it in both hands, giving Stacy that same half smile. Stacy realizes with a start that the piece of leather is a black collar with silver studs and a clasp. A small shiver runs through her body at the shock. Madeline notices and her smile grows. She approaches Stacy with the collar still in her hands. Stacy is too much in shock to protest as Madeline, on tip-toe, fastens it around Stacy’s neck. As she steps back to admire the new accessory, Stacy is surprised at how comfortable it feels on her skin. The slight pressure, the not-quite-choking sensation sends another shiver through her body. Madeline nods in approval. She crooks one long, slender, red-tipped finger at Stacy and turns back to the bed, not waiting to see if her silent command is obeyed. Stacy’s feet seem not her own as they step forward. Through some deep, primitive instinct, she stops just behind Madeline’s right shoulder.

Another shiver runs through Stacy’s body as Madeline’s graceful hand glides across the pieces scattered on the bed. Stacy’s mind races with possibilities of what will happen next. She is confused by the excitement she suddenly feels at those possibilities. She’s always been a good girl, studying hard, even on weekends. She doesn’t have time for a boyfriend, and she doesn’t date much. So why is it that the collar and all the devices strewn across the bed incite such heat in her? Embarrassment at the thought adds more color to her flushed cheeks, and now there’s a strange heat beginning in her midsection, below her belly button.

Madeline’s hand pauses above one of the pieces on the bed. It looks like another collar, except that it has a bright red rubber ball attached in the center of it. Madeline picks up this piece and turns to Stacy, who begins to tremble slightly.

“Open your mouth,” Madeline commands.

Stacy can’t imagine why she should, but her mouth opens anyway. Madeline fits the rubber ball between her teeth and reaches behind her head to buckle the straps. Stacy’s face reddens even more as she realizes that, even though she can swallow, she can’t keep saliva from dripping from the corner of her mouth. Madeline smiles and pulls a handkerchief from her sleeve to dab it away, then turns back to the bed.

Without looking at Stacy, she says, “Take off your clothes.”

[Jewel]

Stacy has never been so embarrassed and absolutely mortified in her life, but she continues to obey. She is too fascinated by Madeline, and too confused by her own reactions to do anything else. She kicks off her boots. Her hands tremble as she reaches down to unbutton and unzip her jeans, then she pushes them off her hips to the floor. In her confused and anxious state she must fight to maintain her balance as she steps out of them. She grasps the hem of her shirt and pulls it up over her head, dropping it on top of her jeans. She stands in her bra and underwear, fighting the urge to try to cover herself with her hands, even though it wouldn’t conceal much.

Madeline glances over her shoulder at Stacy and frowns. “Bra and underwear, too. I want you completely naked.” She returns her attention to the items on the bed.

Stacy wants to sink into the floor, the walls, evaporate into the air that suddenly feels thick, stifling. But she continues to obey the commands from Madeline’s compelling voice as tears form in her eyes. She reaches behind to unhook her bra, slipping the straps off her shoulders and adding it to the pile. She hooks her index fingers into the waistband of her panties and pushes them to the floor, stepping out of them and kicking them onto the pile of her clothing. She feels as if her entire body is on fire as she stands there wearing nothing but a leather and silver collar with a rubber ball strapped into her mouth. Tears of shame and embarrassment make their way down her cheeks.

Madeline turns to face her with something else in her hands, and nods in approval at Stacy’s full nudity. She reaches out delicately with the handkerchief to clean the drool from Stacy’s chin again and she wipes the tear stains. This time, her slender, graceful fingers linger on Stacy’s skin, brushing her cheek and trailing down the left side of her neck and sweeping along her collarbone before breaking contact. A shiver runs through Stacy’s body. The only thought that penetrates her roiling mind is that she wants that touch again, that she’ll do anything for a touch from Madeline.

“Do you know what this is?” the dulcet voice asks, lifting her burden slightly.

Stacy blinks away the moisture clouding her vision and looks at the confusion of leather straps, silver rings, and buckles and shakes her head.

“Oh, you are a delight! I am so very glad that Amanda brought you to me tonight! It’s been so long since I’ve had a true innocent!” Madeline’s glacial ice eyes sparkle with amusement. “This, my darling, is a harness. You will wear it tonight for the first time, but most certainly not the last. This will become as close and as dear to you as your own skin.”

As Madeline fits the harness to Stacy’s naked body, her hands brush Stacy’s skin all over. Each small contact sends a new thrill through Stacy’s body. Madeline arranges the straps over Stacy’s shoulders, around her bare breasts, and buckles them in the back. A large silver ring gathers several of the straps just between and below her breasts. Madeline passes two of these straps between Stacy’s thighs, one on each side of her pubic mound. A sly finger slips down the center, wrenching a gasp from around the ball in Stacy’s mouth, and a shiver she can’t even begin to control. Madeline chuckles softly to herself and turns Stacy around. She threads the two straps between Stacy’s clenched buttocks and buckles them in place. Stacy, who has never worn thong underwear, marvels at just how comfortable those soft pieces of leather are nestled in between her cheeks. Madeline steps back to admire her work.

“Very nice, my darling. Nothing pinching anywhere, not too tight?” She nods when Stacy shakes her head. “Very good. I think now we need to do something about those hands. No self-respecting slave has free hands!”

Madeline turns back to the bed, and Stacy stifles a gasp, shock stopping the moisture from collecting further in her eyes. A slave? she thinks. How is that possible? But as she looks at the curves in black velvet before her, she admits to herself that she would do anything, anything, to see those curves without the fabric. She will suffer any amount of humiliation necessary for more contact from those warm, gentle fingers. She sighs as she comes fully to terms with her own drastic internal shifts of the evening.

Madeline selects the next implement that suits her mood and turns to apply it. She looks into Stacy’s eyes and must see something there because she pauses. She tilts her head as she looks Stacy down and up, returning to her eyes.

“I’m going to remove the ball gag, for the time being. You must only speak when spoken to. Do you understand?”

Stacy nods slowly.

Madeline reaches behind her to unbuckle the strap, and then gently pulls the rubber ball from Stacy’s mouth, tossing it behind her onto the bed. Stacy works her lower jaw to relax the tense muscles as Madeline gently dabs saliva off her chin.

“You are my slave. I am your Mistress. You will address me so, always. Understand?” Stacy nods. “You may speak now.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Stacy manages to whisper. Another shiver runs through her body, beginning in her midsection. Madeline smiles gently and very slowly brushes her fingers down Stacy’s body from her throat to her pussy, again sliding a finger into her soft, damp mound. Stacy gasps and shivers again, then bites back a moan. Madeline’s fingers linger for a moment, then retreat from her body, leaving Stacy aching—physically and mentally—for more.

“When you are a good, obedient slave, you will be rewarded. You want to be rewarded, yes?” Madeline asks.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good, very good. Now for those hands.”

Madeline encases Stacy’s wrists in padded leather cuffs, then buckles the cuffs to a padded bar behind her back. Stacy’s arms are now nearly immobilized, but not uncomfortably so. Her hands hang nearly at her hips, but she realizes she cannot reach her own pussy to satisfy the growing ache. One hand twitches unconsciously in that direction and Madeline’s hand shoots out to deliver a stinging slap to Stacy’s cheek.

“When you are a bad slave, you will be punished. You are not to touch yourself unless I give you permission. You are not to do anything at all unless I order you to do so, or give you leave. Do you understand?”

With tears streaming down her face harder than ever, and her left cheek burning, Stacy again whispers, “Yes, Mistress.”

[Jewel]

Madeline’s face softens again, and she reaches out both hands to Stacy’s breasts, first cupping them, then massaging, then pinching both nipples, hard. Stacy gasps at the pain and feels her pussy become even wetter.

“Ah, yes, good, good,” Madeline murmurs. “A slave who treasures pain. You are even better than I’d hoped for!”

She returns to the bed and sifts through the remaining pieces until she finds the one she wants. She turns back to Stacy. The piece in her hands is a fine silver chain with an alligator-type clamp on each end. Madeline applies these clamps to Stacy’s erect, sensitive nipples, eliciting a sharp gasp. The exquisite pain sends even more moisture to Stacy’s pussy, and she feels it run down her leg. She quivers with the force of the desire running through her, and her knees shake.

“On your knees,” Madeline orders.

Stacy drops to the carpeted floor. Her face is even with Madeline’s waist. She looks straight up to those glacial eyes gazing down at her.

“Do you desire me sexually, my pet?” Madeline’s sultry voice asks.

“Yes, Mistress.” Stacy realizes with a start that this is absolutely and entirely true. She has never before had any interest in women, but she can think of no other human on the planet but the one standing before her now.

“What do you want to do to me?”

“Anything my Mistress commands.”

Madeline nods and reaches down to remove the nipple clamps, tossing them on the bed behind her. Stacy bites back a cry of frustration at the removal of that stimulation. She does not wish to be punished again. Madeline grasps Stacy’s upper arms and pulls her to her feet.

“You have been a very, very good slave for your first lesson. It is nearly two o’clock in the morning, and I am tired. But I will not put you to bed without a reward for how well you have behaved tonight.”

Madeline reaches up with both hands to Stacy’s head, pulling it down to hers. Their lips meet. Stacy is overwhelmed by the scent of jasmine and time seems to stand still. She wants to wrap her arms around this small woman and ravish her, but her wrists are still cuffed behind her. Mindful of the punishment for ill behavior, Stacy doesn’t even probe with her tongue. She is rewarded by the feel of Madeline’s moist tongue sweeping across her lips. Stacy parts her lips slightly, and the welcome tongue enters freely, probing around her mouth and wrestling playfully with her own tongue. Stacy’s breathing grows shallower with each passing second, and her pussy becomes more achingly moist. Suddenly, Madeline’s fingers are there, pressing and rubbing on her clit. Stacy nearly screams as she throws her head back and comes in a fast, hard, spasming rush like none she has ever known. Her moisture streams down the insides of her thighs.

Madeline giggles like a child and throws both arms around Stacy’s neck, kissing her in little-girl pecks all over her face. Stacy fights to remain on her feet as aftershocks continue to roll up and down through her body like ripples on the surface of a pond. When her trembling subsides, Madeline breaks contact to get a towel and gently cleans Stacy’s thighs.

“You will sleep here tonight. Amanda already knows.” It’s not a question, but Stacy knows she would have said yes if it had been. She is slightly startled to realize that she has completely forgotten that she came here with her roommate. She realizes that Amanda set her up for this but cannot bring herself to be even a little bit angry.

Madeline unlocks Stacy’s wrists from the bar behind her back but leaves the individual cuffs on her wrists.

“Gather up the remaining paraphernalia from the bed. We will use those some other evening.”

Stacy gathers up all the bits and pieces of leather and metal from the bed and deposits them on a table in the corner of the room as Madeline instructs, trying to guess what each might be for. Then she pulls back the red and black bedclothes and stands at the right side of the bed awaiting further orders. Madeline joins her next to the bed with a length of chain in her hands. She orders Stacy to lie down on the bed and to present her wrist cuffs. Madeline passes the chain around the post of the headboard, and fastens one end to each of Stacy’s cuffs.

“We can’t have you getting ideas into your head while your Mistress sleeps, now can we?” She winks at Stacy and pats her on the head. Stacy inadvertently shivers and Madeline giggles again. “Oh, my! I am really going to enjoy all of our time together, my dear!”

Madeline pulls the covers over Stacy, turns out the light, and gets into the other side of the bed. Stacy listens as the other woman’s breathing slows to the rhythm of sleep. She thinks that she will spend the whole night awake, uncomfortably chained to a bed, mortified by the things she has allowed to happen to her tonight. That’s the last thought she has before slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Stacy waits at the Student Center for her bus to pull up so she can start her route. She shifts a bit on the bench, feeling the pull of straps beneath her uniform. She runs her thumb under the collar of her shirt, across her shoulder, trying to adjust things, and then looks around quickly to see if anyone noticed. No one is looking at her, so she tries to sit still.

Her bus pulls up and she boards, waiting for Rachel to remove her backpack so Stacy can take over. Rachel stands up and smiles at Stacy, then cocks her head, gazing at her like she knows a secret.

“Nice collar, Stacy,” Rachel smirks.

Stacy feels the blood rush to her face and beads of sweat form. She pulls at the collar of her shirt, trying to hide what Rachel plainly sees. Rachel puts her hand on Stacy’s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie, using the other to pull back her own shirt collar. Stacy is shocked to see a collar identical to hers. Rachel glances around to be sure no one is watching them, then pulls her collar farther to the side. Stacy can see the edge of a leather strap.

“Welcome to the club, Stacy. Mistress will share you eventually!”

End

[jack schitt]

cripes... that's a bit "different"

[Kinky1]

AWESOME!

First time on here....Love it! Can't wait to read more.

[Jewel]

posting, posting - - patience, Kinky ;)

[Kinky1]

Thank You Jewel!