Continuing the cunning, lingual education of Amanda: floral 'adoral' and a 'De Vere' punishment.
*
Dear reader, if you have followed Amanda's tribulations thus far, you should know by now that I, Jane Player, love a real sense of ownership. The moment when my conquest gives in to their submissive libido is a very precise joy. Each connection is accompanied by such feelings of empowerment. I really cannot help but savour these instants for a very, long time indeed.
I will always remember the quizzical look in Amanda's eyes, pet, when she first realised that my overtures were more than those of a friendly and supportive neighbour. I recall chatting with Mrs De Vere, my predecessor at the college, about it over tea. I was very frank, telling her how my dear sweet eighteen year old Amanda turned to me one day in the garden and looked down at my hand.
I still smile to think of my pet-to-be watching, quite unresisting, as I slowly pulled the fabric of that lovely summer skirt up, to reveal that gorgeous thigh.
"Does your passion never rest, Jane?" Amanda sighed a little irritatedly, placing her hand on mine and holding me from any further advances there.
"No rest for the almost wicked?" I smiled, shrugging my shoulders as if to excuse myself.
"No rest for me at least," she said sorrowfully.
"Oh?"
"I can't remember the last time I slept through the night, Jane."
"Too many worries?"
"Something like that."
"Try to relax, pet. Come with me to the rose garden. There is no reason why you shouldn't enjoy my garden and flowers as much as you delight in your own."
I loved the almost childish way she took my hand as we walked across the stream dividing the two properties and the joyous look when you espied the rose garden. And joy is a thing to conjure with. I tell you that it doesn't always matter who it is who is giving themselves to me. I can internalise the joy they offer up.
I close my eyes. I hold my breath. And I reward them with my gush of pleasure regardless, once each darling slut has overcome her scruples and been properly trained to meet my exacting needs.
"I could spend hours here, Jane," Amanda said, sitting down on the grass by a bench.
"Mind you don't stain your skirt, dear. The grass is still a little damp."
"But the flowers are so beautiful."
"Then stay there, Amanda, but kneel up -- I don't want you to damage your clothing."
"Yes, Jane."
"Arch your back and splay your thighs."
"Like this?"
"Exactly: good girl."
She blushed.
"Position is important," I continued, "even when you are only worshipping flowers."
"I think I should like to worship flowers with you for ever, Jane."
"I think that I should like that too, sweetheart. What type would you worship most?"
"Right now -- these assorted roses are wonderful."
"I adore roses too, Amanda."
"I can see that."
"I love their diversity: the way they grow wild and are lovely potted too. And I love to pot the cuttings from the plants."
"Your trellises are simply wonderful, Jane."
"It takes a lot of effort to cultivate them, just as I want them to grow."
"You are cultivating me too, aren't you Jane?"
"Yes, dear."
She looked down at the grass, letting me reach out and stroke her hair.
"You need cultivating pet. And I want you to grow in my care."
"I want to grow too, Jane."
"Then don't resist my advances again."
"No, miss."
"Good girl. You will bloom like the roses under my care."
"Yes, miss."
"And what I do with my blooms is my affair."
"I've always wanted to lie on a bed of rose and magnolia pedals," Amanda giggled.
"Even a little thing like you would need quite a few roses; and magnolias too -- it's a good thing that I have plenty of both in my garden."
"Is it my lucky day, Jane?"
"Let me tell you about a lucky day, Amanda. Let me tell you how my former neighbour's unemployed daughter, Alexandra Kincaid, shares the submissive gene with her step-mother, Karen..."
"I love your stories, miss."
"I know pet. Now stroke my calf, while I tell you that where my predecessor at the college, Mrs De Vere, used to discipline the Kincaids (both step-mother and daughter and sometimes simultaneously), I seek to delight in the first and last instance.
It would be no exaggeration to say that Alexandra has entertained me on numerous occasions. And I would have to add the perverse thought that such entertainments took place in the very same garden where I previously, subsequently and, occasionally, simultaneously, enjoyed every aspect of her dear step-mother.
Having heard from Karen about her predilection for beating Alexandra's bottom, I felt even more obliged to guide Alex in the most appropriate way of conveying her maturing thoughts. She would write me the most delicious essays, even though her most demanding head of college had no real interest in such expression.
I would tell the then sweet eighteen year old to remember my fingers playing joyfully between her distended labia at moments of stress. The thought of such delectation would help her to manage any emotional outburst, as Mrs De Vere sadistically impressed her mark upon as only a recently promoted head of college could do.
After all: the mingling of pleasure and pain is a thing that all well-trained pets need to accustom themselves to. Control and constraint rarely come naturally or instinctively. Remembrance of past pleasures will ease the pain of the moment. The association of delight with a given situation can be refined until a pet is completely enslaved to the emotions and sensations that you have inculcated within her.
There are exploitative relationships that need to be moderated. I've since had three years to moderate Alexandra Kincaid. The first year was a time of slow weaning: letting Alex know that she had been noticed, but focussing almost entirely on Karen.
It would have been tempting to sit in on one of the disciplinary sessions that Karen had told me so much about, but 'softly, softly catchee monkey' as they say.
I was patient enough to content myself with hearing Karen's tales. She would kneel between my thighs and, between lickings and tastings, would tell me of the evenings earlier entertainments.
"Will you tell me more about the entertainments, Jane?" Amanda said to me that afternoon in the rose garden, stealing me away from my reverie. I looked across at her kneeling there, dutifully stroking my lower leg and smiled affectionately.
"But of course I will, Amanda pet; that is provided, of course, you can arrange something in exchange?"
"I'm sure daddy will part with some rare treasure, miss."
"Will he, pet?"
"I'm sure that can be arranged."
"If I give you enough blooms and enough tales, will he offer up his most precious treasure?"
"If the treasure is that valuable, perhaps you should offer up the entire crop, Jane."
"You want a cropping, too?"
"You wouldn't hurt me, would you, Miss Jane?"
"I will only hurt you as much as you need to be hurt. Punishment and pleasure are the yin and yang of surrender: the sunshine follows the rain. The smiles follow the tears, Amanda. My crop marks you mine. Which would you have, dear?"
"I should have it all, if it pleases you, dear Jane."
"It is good you have such a broad mind, Amanda..."
I remember saying the very same thing to Karen as she delighted in exciting me with the torrid particulars of how she had punished Alex with hand or hairbrush. She would sometimes detail how she had watched Mrs De Vere do the very same earlier in the evening. It was so nice of her to pop round to please me in her very neighbourly fashion.
I could empathise with Alexandra. And wince at the thought of all those punishments she seemed to suffer. That did not stop me from gushing over Karen's tongue as she flicked it deftly between my labia, embracing my clitoral button as if she would never relinquish it.
The second year led to a change in pace when Alex left college at nineteen and shortly afterwards lost her job at the local Do-It-Yourself store on the outskirts of Peddington. The reason for this dismissal was her having failed to indulge a certain Ms Mary Higgins.
I was able to empathise with the angry girl. I was also able to empathise with Higgins, who had been Alex's supervisor at that time. She is a forty five year old lady with greying hair, a large bust, a well rounded belly and somewhat rapacious attitudes as regards the younger members of her staff.
I do not automatically tolerate such one-sided relationships, but the temporary loss of freedom sustained by Alex through this relationship, held considerable opportunities for me.
