Former Princess

Chapter 2: Master Aaron

Author's Note: This is intended to be a sequel to "Former Princess," another story in this category. I have written this sequel in response to the many kind requests I have received from readers on this site. Many thanks to all of you for your encouragement. - Ginger

* * * * *

My name is Aaron Michael D'Alero, and I am thirty-six years old. I have been dominating women for twelve very thrilling, fulfilling years.

I fell in love with the Dominant/submissive lifestyle when I was twenty-two, when I was introduced to it by a gorgeous older dominatrix who trained me as her submissive. I spent two years serving her, worshipping her, learning from her. I credit Mistress Pamela for showing me a new life, and I often remember her fondly for it.

When our relationship ended (amicably), I switched roles and began my life as a Dom, and I have never switched back since. I've learned that I am meant to be the one in control, and I covet every minute I've ever spent mastering the submissive women with whom I've been involved.

To me, there's nothing more powerfully erotic than tapping the submissive side of strong women, gently peeling away their layers of civilized inhibitions, and revealing the animal, the true slut hiding inside of them. A rare few women can be truly submissive, to set themselves free and allow themselves to be mastered, to crave serving and achieving satisfaction through it. Those special women are the ones I love above all others.

When a Dom is fortunate enough to be the first to discover the willing submissive side of one of these rare women, there is no greater thrill that I know of than to probe and test her limits, and gradually expand her limits. I love being a teacher, training a woman, watching her achieve new heights of pleasure through submitting to my will.

It is one of these rare, untapped submissives-turned-slut I wish to tell you about. Her name is Heather Maxwell, and she is my loyal slave. I love her, and she loves me. She serves me on a full time basis, and I dominate her lovingly, thoughtfully, completely, and when necessary, sternly.

She is perfectly content being my personal submissive slut, but when I first met her, she knew nothing of the D/s lifestyle, not to mention that she was a spoiled, sheltered product of a wealthy family. What follows is my story of our meeting, her subsequent training, her collaring, and some of our early experiences together as Master and slave.

**********

I first saw Heather the night I attended a birthday party that was being held in honor of her twenty-first birthday, and her brother's eighteenth birthday. Heather's father was the CFO of the company that had retained my services as a corporate lawyer only a month previously. Many of Benjamin Maxwell's business acquaintances had been invited to the party, and it was the first opportunity I'd had to socialize with most of them.

I first laid eyes on lovely Heather Maxwell the moment I walked in the front door of the Maxwell's mansion-like home. My eyes were drawn to her immediately.

She looked beautiful in a long pink gown, her creamy shoulders bare and her shiny blonde hair styled elaborately up away from her face. She had a pretty face, with striking blue eyes, high cheekbones, a slightly upturned nose, and full, sensuous lips.

Her body was incredible. She had plentiful, soft-looking breasts atop a slender waist, and a lovely rounded ass. Such a shame her legs were covered by her long dress. My perusal of her moved on to where she was showing the most skin -- the view of her extraordinary cleavage.

Not surprisingly, I found myself mentally undressing her. My heart rate sped up as my imagination formed visions of this stunning young woman's naked body. Somehow I knew that my made-up images wouldn't be half as delicious as the real thing.

And just like that, I wanted her. Lust at first sight. So I did what I always did when somebody inspired desire in me. I began observing her, taking her measure, learning what I could about her just by watching.

She was talking to a handsome, preppie-looking young man. She was animatedly greeting him, and the look on her face and tone of her voice told me that she was attracted to him. I heard him call her Heather, and I knew then that she was Maxwell's daughter. He returned her greeting stiffly, almost coolly. He quickly moved on, stopping to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell.

As the young man turned away from her, I thought that Heather looked disappointed, and touchingly vulnerable. The look passed quickly, however, as she took a deep breath and replaced her composed smile on her pretty face.

I watched her moving through the growing crowd, smiling, shaking hands or hugging, and chatting with her guests. She moved gracefully, and her every gesture was smooth and languid.

I felt my cock twitch inside my tuxedo trousers as I focused on her generous dark pink lips as she spoke to someone. She had the kind of beautifully captivating lips that always caused me to picture myself sliding my cock between them.

My impromptu fantasy of fucking Heather's lovely mouth was interrupted when I found myself next in line to greet the primary host and hostess, Benjamin and Elaine Maxwell. I shook hands with Benjamin, and he introduced me to his wife, a well-preserved, petite woman in her late forties. I briefly studied her face, and the only things that I could see that Heather had inherited from her mother were her clear blue eyes and high cheekbones.

The Maxwell's pointed out their children, the sexy Heather, and a nice looking son named Gerald. I made my way over to Gerald and introduced myself to him, congratulating him on his birthday. He smiled easily, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "Welcome to the party, Mr. D'Alero," he said. "Drinks and food are in the big room over there."

Gerald Maxwell was easygoing and friendly, a pleasant contrast to his stuffy, somewhat imperious parents. I wondered if Heather's personality was similarly likable, or if she'd bowed to the influence of her elder's snobbiness. I decided that I would wait a bit to introduce myself to Heather. I wanted to watch her for a while longer first.

For the next hour, as I made my way around the room talking to my new business associates, I discreetly kept my eye on Heather. I observed her interactions with people, some friends and some complete strangers. Occasionally, I'd catch bits and pieces of her conversations from a distance.

She seemed to be very polite, well-spoken, and intelligent. She smiled easily, and played the gracious hostess. She seemed friendly, but I could see that she had a subtle haughtiness about her, a vague air of superiority, at least at times. Not surprising considering she was a child of excess wealth, pampered and brainwashed.

At other times, when she was talking to close friends, she would become genuinely animated, with much laughter and many hugs. At one point, her brother came over and spoke to her, and it was perfectly obvious that she adored him. She was apparently capable of giving and receiving affection sincerely, which I always view as a good sign, a natural starting place.

Watching her, I became aware that she was surreptitiously watching the dark haired young man with whom she was speaking when I arrived. I was amused when I realized that she was trying to make her way over to where he was, but she kept getting interrupted.

When I saw her once again heading in his direction, I decided it was time to introduce myself to her. She was just about to reach him when I tapped gently on her shoulder, and she turned to face me.

For one quick moment, her face reflected annoyance at having been interrupted again. Her expression abruptly softened as she regarded me, and she favored me with a sincere smile.

I introduced myself, and wished her a happy birthday. When she spoke to thank me, I heard her voice up close and clearly for the first time. Her voice was smooth and melodic, engaging and expressive.

I asked her to dance, knowing full well that being raised a "proper" lady, she would feel obligated to turn down an intimate slow dance with a stranger. I was reasonably sure that she would accept, however. Something about the way she looked at me told me so.

I saw but a moment's indecision in her eyes, then she smiled and said, "I would be delighted." I could tell that she meant it.

I escorted her to the dance floor, and she turned to face me, her blue eyes shining brightly at me. I grasped her hand and placed my other hand on the small of her back, and she stepped in closer to me. We moved together easily as we chatted, getting acquainted.

I found Heather to be a most intriguing young woman. I was most definitely physically attracted to her, but I was also taken by her intelligence and obvious strength. I was also delighted that as we danced, she became increasingly relaxed, her body becoming more pliant in my arms.

I sensed that she was attracted to me also. Very subtly and slowly, I pulled her body closer to mine. I don't think she was even aware of how she was yielding to me, allowing herself to be drawn into an even closer embrace. Then again, maybe she was perfectly aware of it.

We were soon pressed up against each other, and we ceased talking altogether. I could feel heat radiating from her, and I heard her breathing becoming more quick and shallow. I was encouraged. She evidently was enjoying the feeling of dancing so closely with me more than she was worried about what others in the room must be thinking.

At one point, she met my eyes, as though she was trying to determine if I was enjoying this as much as she was. I held her gaze, studying her face and smiling gently. After a few seconds, she sighed contentedly, closed her eyes, and lay her head on my shoulder.

It was a small submission, but in closing her eyes, she had just put herself under my control, trusting me to guide her. My cock began to stiffen as I guided her gently around the dance floor, holding her close.

We stayed like that for quite awhile, until my erection began to throb almost painfully in its confinement. As much as I was enjoying being next to her, I knew it was time to break this up, at least until later. I still needed to say hello to a few other people at the party, and as hostess she needed to mingle as well.

I regretfully stepped away from her, and I could feel her immediate disappointment. The look on her pretty face was almost confused, as if she couldn't remember where she was or what was going on. When I told her that I'd see her again before I left, she beamed broadly.

"I do hope we'll have a chance to dance again," she said. She said it suggestively, with a slight blush on her face, and I knew she was interested in me as well.

I decided at that moment that I wasn't going to waste any time to test the extent of her interest in me. I would tell her about my love for games of dominance and submission, and offer to have her join me before the night was through. My instincts told me to press for an immediate response from her. I had learned to rely heavily on my instincts in these matters.

I had been working such long hard hours since I'd moved to Chicago, I hadn't had time to seek out a submissive to serve me. My need was now very strong, and meeting Heather had added fuel to the fire. I think even then I heard the submissive slut hiding inside her calling out to me for release.

For the next hour, I mingled and met all the people I'd come to see. I caught Heather watching me several times, and even from across the room I could see the desire in her eyes. I'd only just met her, but I wanted her badly, wanted to possess and dominate her utterly. I felt that she wanted something from me, too, and I fervently hoped that we would both get what we wanted.

Later, when she was surrounded by a group of people, I could see her scanning the room looking for me. On impulse, I stayed out of her line of sight, watching her reaction as she tried to locate me. It wasn't long before she left her friends and began actively searching for me, walking around the room trying to spot me.

I stood on one side of a huge potted plant, concealing myself from her view. At first, Heather appeared to be anxious, then after a while she started looking disappointed, even upset. She thought I had left. Watching her secretly like this, I could see plainly that I'd been right about her interest in me.

I was just getting ready to go over and let her off the hook, when she turned and left the room, a sad expression on her face. I followed and watched her ascend the winding staircase towards the second floor.

I smiled. This would be my opportunity to get her alone and see what happened. I followed her at a distance, and I saw her enter one of the bedrooms on the second floor. She had closed the door to the room, so I slowly inched it open and I quietly peaked inside. I saw her open the french doors on the outside wall and step out onto a balcony.

She stood at the balcony railing, looking out into the night. She looked sad and vulnerable, and achingly beautiful. I silently entered her room and crossed the floor, stopping just a couple of feet behind her.

I gently laid my hands on her bare shoulders. She quickly turned, her face a mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and even a hint of joy.

I knew that by being in her bedroom, uninvited in her personal space, I had put her off balance. I wanted her even more off balance though. Before she had the chance to speak, I took her into my arms and kissed her, hard.

She thrilled me by reacting immediately. She returned my kiss equally as passionately, and her arms locked around my neck. I could feel her body trembling against me, and I could hear her breath coming in short, gasping pants.

I probed at her luscious lips with my tongue, and she instantly yielded, opening her mouth and allowing my tongue inside. At that moment, what I had suspected was confirmed. This young woman was hot.

I broke the kiss, waiting for her reaction. She was reeling, outwardly dazed. She stared at me with her piercing blue eyes for a moment, then she stammered, "What are you doing in my room?"

She was precious. The look on her face told me she knew how silly that question sounded after the way she'd just responded to my kiss. Her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

I told her that I thought I was just giving her what she wanted. I could tell that her first reaction was to deny that, but she didn't say anything.

Heather remained silent for a moment, and when she spoke, I was surprised by what she said. "My mother told me I should stay away from you. She said you had an eccentric taste in women. What did she mean?"

I laughed out loud. I was surprised her mother had said anything at all to her, but obviously she was talking about my lifestyle as a Dom, which had always been wildly speculated about and a source of gossip. Heather didn't know it, but she'd just given me the perfect opportunity to acquaint her with my desires and preferences.

I told her the truth, in a nutshell. I told her about my taste for submissive women, and I explained what I expected from women I was with. Then I offered to teach her.

I could tell by her expression and the questions she asked that she'd never heard of such things before, but that she was at least somewhat intrigued. I saw the indecision on her face as she tried to sort out her feelings. It was a watershed moment. I could almost feel her balanced between two extremes, with her pampered, sheltered life on one side, and with me and the mysterious unknown on the other.

She was confused, and I wasn't surprised when she suggested that perhaps I should leave her alone and give her time to think about it. I fervently hoped that my instincts had been right when I told her that perhaps when she was a little older and more experienced she would be ready to explore new horizons.

I normally didn't push so hard, but I'll admit, I wanted her bad. And so far she was following along so willingly, I simply couldn't resist.

I rolled the dice, and I stepped away from her, turning towards the door as if to leave. I couldn't suppress a grin when not three seconds later, she stopped me. Her voice had a pleading tone, and she told me she wanted to understand, and to learn. She was sincere, and she seemed almost panicked that I was just going to walk away.

I began to lay out some of the ground rules for her, and she listened intently. Her eyes registered interest and her body language registered something else. Her breathing was still fast and shallow...her lovely chest heaved as she struggled to maintain control of her breath. She was also turned on.

I told her that her primary role was to please me, and that when she did that properly, I would give her pleasure in return. I introduced her to the idea of punishment for any misdeeds, and I explained about safewords. I emphasized that no matter what we did, the choice would always be hers to continue or to stop.

Heather agreed to the ground rules, and her face showed her own shock at consenting to something so new and unknown. With a pleased smile, I gave her my card and instructions to call me the following evening. She took the card from me almost reverently.

I knew that time was short and that she should get back to her party before she was missed and someone came looking for her. Before I left though, I simply had to touch her. I needed to feel her pressed against me once more, and I wanted to give her another taste of the pleasure that I knew I could give her.

I kissed her again, hard. Once again, she responded with an utterly consuming passion, and once again my cock stiffened in my pants. My hands sought out her lovely breasts, caressing them through her gown. I groaned inwardly when I could feel her nipples harden immediately, even through the fabric barrier that came between us. Heather moaned as well, a thrilling, needy sound.

I stepped forward, forcing her to step backward in order to keep her balance. I continued moving her backwards until her back was pressed up against her bedroom wall. My lips left hers so that I could kiss the creamy skin of her throat and shoulders. Her skin broke out in pebbly gooseflesh everywhere my mouth touched her, and I could feel her trembling with uncontained excitement.

Reaching down, I gathered up the hem of her pink silk skirt and slowly pulled it upward, exposing her shapely legs inch by inch. She was panting heavily, and I swore I could feel her need radiating off of her in waves of pure heat. Heather wanted me to touch her pussy, and I could feel it as clearly as if I'd heard her say the words aloud.

At that moment, it was clear that we wanted the same thing. I reached down and slid my fingers down into her satiny ivory-colored panties, and within seconds I encountered her already wet pussy lips. I parted her willing labia with my index fingers, and I pushed my finger into her impossibly tight hole.

I couldn't believe how incredibly tight and wet she was. She felt like a prim, proper virgin who had suddenly been possessed by the spirit of a wanton slut. The combination was irresistible.

I slipped another finger into her drenched pussy, and I began pumping the two fingers in and out. Within seconds, she was thrusting her hips forward to meet my probing fingers, fucking them.

In a low, husky voice I told her that I could tell she loved to fuck and that I looked forward to thoroughly enjoying her tight pussy. She moaned in response, and I could tell that hearing dirty talk turned her on.

I withdrew my fingers from her sopping cunt, and her little groan of protest was music to my ears. I began urgently rubbing her clit, which was already hardened with need. Heather's sounds of pleasure grew louder, and she began thrusting her hips even more intensely as she approached her climax.