You are alone in a room, dressed in a short white flowing dress; it has a tight bodice and a fuller skirt made of soft chiffon, which stops just below your thighs. You are a slave girl, waiting to see if you are to be bought today. A virgin, you are nervous, you don't know what to expect. The door opens, and I walk in. You look to the ground, avoiding eye contact. I amble over to you, gazing intently at your body.
I walk slowly around you, my gaze never falters. I am deciding whether to buy. I cup your breast with my hand, and your inexperienced body responds immediately: your nipples begin to tighten as you shiver involuntarily. I note that you are not wearing any undergarments, and I pull the top of your dress down to expose both of your breasts. You are not used to such exposure and cower away in shame. I lean down and circle a tongue around each nipple until they are both very hard.
I take your chin in my hand and raise your head to make you look at me. Your eyes open wide as I turn your head to each side, then lean in to kiss you hard on the lips. You don't know what to do, but your lips instinctively part, and you feel my probing tongue. My other hand slides up your thigh. Covered only by the dress, your body is free for me to explore. My hand moves higher and higher.
I turn you around and bend you over until your hands are on the ground and your dress is no longer covering you. Although you are beyond mortified, you feel a strange fluttering in your stomach and lower down that you cannot understand. I move closer to you and push my hardness against you, one hand on your hip, and the other hand fondling your still exposed breasts. You push your ass into me, and you immediately bite your lip in regret. A slave girl is not permitted to show any desire, and you realize then that it is desire you are feeling -- hot, urgent desire for me.
You feel the palm of my hand smack your bare ass as a lesson for showing desire, and you yell out in shock -- not just from the smack but from the strange fluttering feeling in your stomach that intensifies between your legs. You close your eyes tightly; you have never felt so warm down there before, you don't know what it means or how to control it. You feel my hands glide over your buttocks, fingers sliding down the crack of your ass, spreading you apart. My fingers continue down to your inner thigh and within millimeters from your swelling labia. Pushing firmly against the soft skin of your inner thigh, I rotate my fingers outward, causing your labia to separate. You feel your virgin parts cooling, as the air touches your wetness. My hands continue down your legs all the way to your feet, and you feel your heart sink when my touch leaves your body. You open your eyes to see me turn and walk out of the room.
Falling to your knees, you assume the slave position that you have been taught -- forehead on the floor, arms stretched out above your head. You hear a soft weeping sound, and think to lift your head to see where the sound is coming from, but stop when you realize it is you who is weeping. Never before have you felt such intense feelings, such wanting to be taken. But you showed desire, a cardinal sin for a slave, and that one slight move displeased me -- you are certain of it. Instead of feeling my touch and pleasing me, you fear you will never see me again.
You steel yourself, knowing that soon the next prospective customer will be let into the room to examine you. You know better than to hope that the next person will touch you like I did, will make you feel such intense yearning. You want to weep again when you hear the door open.
"It's your lucky day, Girl, you have a new Master today," your current owner tells you.
You stand up and turn around, your eyes again staring down at the ground, afraid to look, afraid to hope. You see a hand cup your chin and lift your head up. When your eyes meet mine, you can't keep your lips from forming a smile.
"Beautiful!" I whisper as I take you by the hand and lead you out of the room.
We walk out of the viewing room and down a hallway into another room, which looks like a five-star hotel suite. You notice it is divided into a couple of rooms; the first is a small lounge with a couple of couches and a small powder room off to the side.
The lounge opens into a bedroom with a king size bed, dresser, closet, and a master bath. I lead you into the master bath and turn you to face me. You are looking down again, and I cup your chin and lift your head so you look me in the eyes. "Don't make me do that again," I tell you. You nod affirmatively.
As you hold my gaze, you feel your dress slip off your shoulders, down your arms, and over your breasts, which wiggle as they pop free of the fabric. Part of you is horrified and mortified, making you want to look away, but you are also full of desire and want. While you concentrate all your mental energy on maintaining eye contact, your body begins to tremble as your dress slides down past your hips and falls to the floor. I take your hand and pull you towards me. You step out of your dress, completely naked in front of me. "Shhhh," I soothe, as I place my hands on your arms to stop your trembling.
When you begin to regain some composure, I tell you to undress me. You reach up with shaking hands to unbutton my shirt. I grab your hands and hold them tight, and tell you to breathe. After several deep breaths, your hands tremble less and I let go. Emboldened, you hold my gaze while you unbutton my shirt. When you unbutton the last one, I take you by the wrists, place the palms of your hands on my chest and then slide them up to my shoulders. You like the feel of my skin and firm muscles.
All feelings of embarrassment are replaced with desire, and you feel an ache in your stomach and in your groin like you have never felt before. Your tremble returns, but this time from excitement and hunger. You run your hands down my shoulders and arms, taking my shirt with it. "It's OK to look," I say, and your eyes devour my naked torso. Further down, you see a bulge in my pants. You know what it is, but you have never seen "it" in person. Your lips curve into a smile as your hands greedily reach for my belt. I grab your wrists again. "Slow down!" I command, firmly.
