Iris has
LONG
black hair; she keeps it in a tight bun because of the gray strands drifting through those locks. Like many Females, Growing Older is a frightening experience. Like many... she's so damn hot she really doesn't see it... and spends her efforts on fitting an ever-changing Mold. In fact, she stumbled across my Tales due to one of her Friends doing the Anti-Bitch about some of the Topics.
Unlike her friend, Iris remained silent about her enjoyment; nor did she complain about the Subject matter while spitting out
vivid details
that pulled nipples taunt and gave that breathy pause to her Words as she described Scenes. She sought me out... asking me how a Female could find enjoyment in Training.
"Most of them are... well...
Normal!!!
"
Like that has ever stopped anyone from Getting Theirs;
never underestimate the depths of Human Depravity...
or how we get Pleasure. After all... with only my online pictures as a guide... she asked for Training.
I don't know Why I agreed... only that her pictures did her no Justice; she hid those round 38-C breasts in nearly every head-shot and the few full shots showed her fully covered. Her slightly rounded face held two of the brightest, most intelligent dark blue eyes I've seen in some time; full... but not DSL-Thick lips seemed to cringe because they could not Smile. From chin to cheek... she Needed tender caresses... not the Firm Hand; but... if you have my Gift or just Know People... you can clearly See it...
Not that submissive streak/tendency/hidden Craving/Desire; Iris' sexual encounters have all been... tame. If there was Passion it stopped at the heated embrace Scene from a Romance Novel/Daytime Drama; She actually told me that her Definition of Slut
STOPS
at Day One; beyond that... too dark.
"So... why experience Training?"
"You're not that Dark."
Never been told that.
As to the Moment when her Definition changed... it didn't; I told her to let the bun down. "I want to see you in a pony-tail. Now."
She smiled and Complied, but her breathing gave her away. She let her hair fall behind her, then slowly turned around; even with the slight uplift from the design her hair stopped where her ass-swell
just
began.
I stroke it... with my Right Hand; standing behind her I whisper: "Long enough to tie up those Perky Tits My Dear..."
She actually giggled!
"If I had the skills I give you two nice braids; remember my Dear... before Humans braided rope...
we had hair
."
"I can't do it," she said quietly.
"I know someone; however... you must Understand: they are very much Aware of what I do. Can you stand a complete Stranger knowing what is about to happen to you... when you have yet to experience it?"
* * * *
"Greetings Sire."
Iris looked at me quizzically; Annabelle is a tall, leggy Goth who thrills in shocking the rather complacent Locals with her corset-of-the-day and those fabulous legs in whatever makes them look even longer. They call her Lady Heather... because that is how she appears.
Annabelle is not a Dom; she's just a hot 55 year old grandmother who is happily gay and single. She writes... which is how we met; during her spare time she does hair. Finding a Writer with a decidedly Dark Side in the middle of her new Home was a bonus; we grab coffee Down Town about twice a month... just to let the Locals know that Freaks come out during the Daylight as well.
"I require Braids, Mistress of the Home."
Formal greetings out of the way, I later told Iris that our act/show... was Code. It keeps her from poking her nose into what's going on.
"How can she be a grand mother and gay?"
I was slightly offended... until I realized that Iris was not Bashing Annabelle... just flat-out curious.
