(This is a re-publish of a story I wrote for my friend yourcumkitten a number of years ago. She would tell me what she wanted to happen with her character, and I'd weave it into a story. Hopefully it is as well received now as when I first posted it here. And, yourcumkitten, if you're still around, enjoy!)
Steam curled from my coffee as I turned the pages. I'd been surprised when I needed to turn on a light to read this morning - time had passed so quickly, and summer was almost over! The days were getting shorter. I hadn't heard a word from Him since that last eventful night, over a month ago. I didn't expect to.
I keep the diary locked in my nightstand, kept safe from my husband's eyes. My god, the diary! A catalogue of all my delicious sins, the leverage He used to make me do as He said! He gave it back to me that last night, as agreed upon in the contract. I keep it locked away, of course, except at times like these, when I find myself alone and needing to remind myself that it was all real. Although the handwriting is mine, and I lived the story, my heart pounds, and I find myself getting wet.
I nearly jumped out of my chair when my phone rang, dancing across the tabletop as it vibrated. It's amazing how I still have such intense guilt mixed with the pleasure as I read the diary, and the ringing phone made me feel like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Or down my panties.
It was suzanne, my beautiful friend and neighbor! She had shared that last day with me, and it had been as intense an experience for her as it had been for me. Today is a "ladies' day," as we like to call them - one of those too-rare days we are both free to hang out and do whatever we want, all day. I always love these days, and today feels extra special. You see, suzanne has been talking about how she longs to be in the position I found myself in, subject to His wishes and commands. She tried calling him, but the number had been disconnected. She placed a couple of ads, but they only attracted freaks and scammers. So, we came up with an idea.
She's going to submit to me.
I'm terribly excited at the idea, but I also don't know what I'm doing, really! As I've tried to think of how to proceed, I realize it's a lot of pressure and responsibility! A couple months ago, I was a bored housewife and mom who never really thought of these things. Then, through what I thought was just a silly roleplay game, I got stretched to my limits! I never would have done the things I did unless I was coerced. That was my motivation. suzanne's motivation is a little different - she knows what she's getting into, and is going there willingly.
Still, I have to figure out how to do for suzanne what He did for me. I need to expand her horizons and force her to do things she wouldn't normally do. She's already done that once for me, to save my ass! Now I have to guide her, and I feel unprepared.
Unprepared, but excited! God yes!
While I don't have a big plan figured out, I do know a few things I want to do with her, and I know how I want to get started. We've already decided to structure it a bit like my own contract - we will do this for a month, and whenever we are having a session, suzanne will do whatever I say. And we've also agreed that she will write in a diary after each lesson, and I'll keep it until the end. After the end of the month, we'll decide what to do next.
"Hi suzanne!" I answered, silencing the phone's intrusive buzzing. "Are you ready?"
I picked her up and drove us to breakfast. I hadn't gotten her anything special to wear yet, so I was pleased and a little surprised to see that she had worn the scoop-necked dress He gave her at my last lesson. It's only a little see-through, and then just when the light is right, but it is awfully short for the cooling weather and a little edgy for our podunk little town. The cowled neck dives all the way down to her navel, so even though it covers everything when she is standing normally, there was always the possibility of exposing one of suzanne's pert breasts. The fact that she chose to wear it was super exciting, and an air of anticipation enveloped us. There was even a little tension between us, but not a negative kind. It was just hard to know what to say in our new roles, so we weren't our usual chatty selves.
I took us to a local eatery that is popular and always busy this time of morning. As we walked in, the morning sunlight shone through suzanne's dress and I saw she was wearing a pretty thong. It looked like it may be the same sapphire hue as the dress. I smiled to myself, an idea forming. We ended up waiting in the small foyer for a table, and I enjoyed the looks suzanne got from the other patrons. I remembered those looks well - I had seen all of the same types of looks when He displayed me in different locations. There was the dad trying to look without getting caught, the open stares and smiles of the three college-age guys, the appreciative glance of an older woman who probably could have pulled off the same dress twenty years ago, and the hostile stare of the soccer mom worried about competition. I was entertained by each and every one, and smiled at them all.
Soon, a vaguely familiar girl seated us at a table for two. Sometimes it seems everyone in this town looks vaguely familiar, and that added a bit of excitement and concern. I decided to plunge ahead with my idea.
After we ordered, I asked suzanne, "Are you wearing panties this morning?" I knew the answer, of course.
"Yes, Mistress!" she answered, her eyes growing wide.
I felt a quick thrill at her use of the word "Mistress!" We hadn't really discussed how she should address me, so I was a little surprised. Very pleased though.
"Take them off for me please, and lay them on the table."
suzanne started to get up to go to the restroom, and I arrested her with a hand on top of hers. "No. Here, please."
Unconsciously, I had fallen into the pedantic, slightly formal cadence that He used.
Her pretty mouth opened, but she didn't say a word. She glanced around, and we were literally surrounded by other diners. The place was packed. The only saving grace was that most people were so busy talking with one another that they probably weren't paying attention. Gingerly, she lifted her bottom and slipped the thong down. I admired the deft way she stepped out of the tiny panties and quickly bent to retrieve them. As I had asked, she put the thong on the table next to her coffee cup.
"Good girl," I purred. Making a quick glance around, I reached across the table and spread the neckline of her dress so that the fabric barely covered her nipples. I ran one fingertip lightly from the hollow of her throat down between her breasts as far as the table would allow. I saw gooseflesh ripple across her creamy skin, and I knew her nipples had just gotten hard as pebbles.
Just then, the waitress returned with our food and set the plates down. She asked if everything looked alright. We nodded yes, and she started to say we should let her know if we needed anything. She stopped in mid-sentence, her eyes riveted to the skimpy swath of blue material on the table. She stammered, and her mouth formed a pretty "O" as she searched for words, and then she mumbled an apology and began to walk away. I called her back, pointed at the panties, which conveniently lay right next to the half-full coffee mug, and suggested that suzanne may need her coffee warmed. The flustered girl nodded and scurried off to get the carafe.
"That was mean!" suzanne scolded, laughing. I grinned back.
This was going to be difficult, in a way. It was so easy to fall back into our old friendship and forget I was supposed to be the Mistress. It may take some work to strike a balance in our new relationship. To reassert my leadership, I told her, "That wasn't mean at all. When she comes back, you are going to hand them to her and tell her they're barely worn, and you think they'd look great on her!"
