Zaheera

An eager young woman prepares to meet her domme

*

Author's Note

If you happened to read Mistress & Charlotte's seven part story entitled, Dinner Party Mystery, then you had the chance to meet Zaheera and her friends. Zaheera is attending the same training program Charlotte did many years ago in hopes of being matched with a domme to take care of, and who will take care of her, just like Mistress Natasha cares for Charlotte. Someone suggested an off-shoot story featuring her and here we are.

Enjoy,

WaxPhilosophic

*

All characters are over eighteen, and if the word domme didn't tip you off, this story involves quite a bit of dominance and submission. If you have read my other stories, you'll know there is nothing to fear and all partners are treated with respect.

*

Zaheera

When I got called into Miss Karin, the H.R. director's office, I was not expecting a friendly chat. Actually, I was expecting to be let go. I had graduated from their personal assistant course three weeks ago and still hadn't been matched with a domme. All the other girls were snatched up within days.

Even so they kept me on a stipend and kept me busy with light clerical work around the office. I figured they were ready to cut their losses with a hand shake and a 'better luck next time, kiddo."

I wasn't sure what I'd do if that were the case. I couldn't afford another year of tuition. I could see my student visa evaporating before my eyes. And the idea of returning home held no joy.

"Good morning, Zaheera."

"Good morning, Miss Karin." Not wanting to meet her gaze when the bad news came, I studied the pattern of the carpet instead.

"Please come over, dear," she said.

I heard the muted squeak of her chair as she pushed back from the heavy wooden desk that, besides a potted Norfolk Island Pine, was the only substantial thing in her office. As usual, she was wearing a skirt that didn't quite make it to her knees and the sexiest seamed stockings I've ever laid eyes on.

I was recalling how Karin invited me to touch her stockings during my interview, and I could almost imagine the feeling of silk beneath my fingertips. As I stood there, wavering, I wondered if that was a one time thing or if the offer might come up again.

She took off her glasses and set them on the desk.

"Zaheera." Karin patted her thigh.

"Yes, ma'am." I inched closer.

"Please," she patted her thigh again. "Sit."

I almost wished she had asked me to strip first, so I could feel that silk under my bare bottom, because she had hiked up her skirt enough for me to see a peek of where the stocking ended and her creamy skin began. As it was, the faded denim of my jeans precluded any overt enjoyment of the moment.

"How long has it been since you finished the course, Zaheera."

"Three weeks, ma'am." I felt myself flush as the words crossed my lips.

I waited for her tisk-tisk, admonishing me for being the last of my class to receive a client assignment, but got something else entirely.

"I feel like we've failed you." Karin wrapped her arms around me in a hug I hadn't expected.

After a moment, I settled in and touched my cheek to her shoulder. "Ma'am?"

"We pride ourselves on making good, lasting matches, Zaheera, so our criteria for girls is very strict, as you know. And our criteria for dommes doubly so." She brushed her fingertips over the back of my neck. "I apologize for not being able to give you any good news before today."

Good news?

I raised my head from Karin's shoulder to gaze into her eyes.

"I have a potential match for you, Zaheera. She's an experienced domme, but she's new to our program. Just completed her course over the weekend. I think you'll find her very much to your liking, Zaheera, but she's new, and..."

Flustered?

I had never seen Miss Karin anything less than one-hundred percent self-assured. I was searching my mind for possible reasons when she spoke up again.

"There is to be an additional interview first. Actually, the word used was inspection. It was rather insisted upon, actually." Karin shifted under me, sitting up straighter. "The interview, um, inspection would be in my office, and I'll be here as a third-party observer. If it's something you want to do."

"Yes, ma'am." I took a deep breath and tried to put on my best posture as I sat there on Miss Karin's thigh, wishing I could feel the cool comfort of her stockings, while I wondered about the potential domme and her inspection."

"Do you have any questions for me, Zaheera?"

"No, ma'am." I said, automatically. Then I chewed my lip for a moment."

Karin covered my hand with hers. "Are you sure?"

"Is she strict, ma'am?"

Karin took my hand and moved it to the inside of her thigh. It was as if she read my mind, and I reveled in the feeling of silk under my fingers. I tried to control my quivering and keep my hand as still as possible, hoping Miss Karin would forget she put it there.

"She can be regimented in her ways, and has high expectations, but not so much that she's unsympathetic to the needs of her girl. We wouldn't match you up otherwise."

Miss Karin placed her hand on mine—the one that was resting on her thigh. "The inspection is tentatively set for nine o'clock tomorrow morning, unless you'd like to pass on this one."

"No ma'am. I'd appreciate the opportunity to show her what I've learned."

"That's the spirit." Karin nudged my hand a little higher, until the tip of my middle finger was running up against the hard metal clip of the garter belt that kept those lovely silk stockings from falling down.

"Do you have any other questions, Zaheera?"

"Miss Karin?" I boldly moved my hand a bit higher until I was almost touching skin. "Is there someone who can help me prepare?"

Miss Karin smiled. She also made a show of pulling out her phone and checking her calendar. I'm sure it was only a formality, because after one quick swipe, she said, "It seems I am free for the entire afternoon. How about I treat you to lunch, then we can come back for a little mock interview?"

I never did make it any farther than the metal clasp of her garter belt, because Miss Karin stood up while I was still on her lap, pitching me forward to grab her desk with my hands. She caught me with an arm around my waist.

"I'll meet you in the lobby," she said, after helping me upright. "And, Zaheera, leave your underwear in my bottom right desk drawer, please."

"Yes, Miss Karin." I smiled.

She strode out of her office and closed the door.

I shivered.

* * *

Lunch was nice. Miss Karin told me to get whatever I wanted. I was tempted by many things on the menu, but in the end I chose something not too heavy. I knew exactly what I was asking for when I inquired about help preparing, and most of it did not go hand in hand with an overly full belly.

We sat in a booth seat, facing each other. After we were seated, when no one was looking, Miss Karin slipped out of her heels and propped her right leg up over on my side of the table. She brushed her foot against my thigh, and as I raised my eyes, she nodded.

The time we spent waiting for our orders was silent, except for the occasional swish of her toes against my jeans. I sent my hands exploring, over her ankle and up her magnificently toned calf, feeling that stocking, while Miss Karin gave subtle nods of appreciation. I began to regret the fact my underwear was in her desk drawer and wondered how long it would take before my enjoyment was visible as a dark patch on my faded denim.

I knew the answer would be 'not long', because once our food arrived, Miss Karin moved her right foot to the other side of my thigh, right smack in between my legs. She also chose this moment to strike up a friendly conversation, though in muted tones due to the nature of what we discussed.

"You realize your nipples are poking through your shirt, Zaheera."

"Yes, ma'am."

And with a white shirt on someone with such lovely dark skin as yours, there's not much to hide, is there?"

"No ma'am." I dropped my gaze.

"Straighten up, Zaheera," she said. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You have a beautiful body. If anyone is staring it's only out of envy."

"Yes, ma'am." I took a deep breath and corrected my posture. The thin, cotton fabric of my shirt rubbed against my nipples, causing goose flesh to break out on my arms.

I think Miss Karin noticed, because she grinned and dug her big toe around in the crotch of my jeans at the same time. I tried not to squirm too much.

"Have you been keeping yourself groomed, Zaheera?"

"Yes ma'am." I knew she meant waxed. In fact, I was glad of it, since any barrier keeping my pubes from getting ripped out in a crease of denim was currently upstairs in Karin's bottom right desk drawer.

"Do you like to masturbate?"

I was just bringing my fork to my mouth when she asked. I set it down and swallowed against the lump in my throat.

"Yes, ma'am," I whispered.

"How many fingers? Personally, I like two."

"Um, one or two, ma'am. Usually one."

"Yes, I remember, you're one of our tighter girls, aren't you?"

"Um... yes, ma'am."

"How about your ass?"

I lowered my eyes and tried to glance around to see if anyone might be eavesdropping. "Ma'am?"

Karin pressed her toe hard into my crotch. "Besides teasing your kitty, Zaheera, do you ever slip a little something in your backdoor?"

"Um... sometimes, yes. Um, ma'am."

"How many?"

"Oh, just one finger, ma'am."

"Tight."

I didn't know if that was a statement or a question. I answered anyway. "Yes, ma'am."

Miss Karin said nothing further, causing me to raise my eyes. When I looked up, she was licking all around her middle finger and then sliding it between her puckered lips until two knuckles were gone from view. She pulled it back out with a pop.

"I enjoy a tight ass, Zaheera. Do you think you could fit me in sometime? With lube of course." She left me to ponder this while she dug around in my crotch with her toes.

I shivered. "Um, yes... yes, ma'am."

Karin stabbed a bit of her lunch with the tines of her fork and leaned forward. "I love your can-do attitude."

I felt something brushing my knee at the same time and automatically moved my hand under the table. Without looking I knew it was a leather strap—one of the short, black ones, about an inch wide that Miss Karin liked to use on us girls during our interviews. I hadn't felt it again since my final exams.

"Take it," she said. "You can ask me to freshen you up later. I think your prospective client might like to see a few fading stripes if you think you're up for it."

I squeezed the cool leather in my hands, feeling the moisture on my palm where it rested, thinking about the moisture between my legs as events played out in my mind's eye.

I was bent over that heavy wooden desk, propped up on my elbows, with my feet spread apart, waiting for Miss Karin to choose her moment. I arched my back and prepared myself. My eyelids fluttered.

"Zaheera, darling?"

"Ma'am?"

"Are you alright? I thought I lost you there for a moment."

"Yes, Miss Karin."

"Tuck it into the front of your jeans, Zaheera. Leave at least half of it sticking out. We don't want anyone to have to guess, do we?"

"No, ma'am."

"If you're lucky, it'll cover your wet spot." Miss Karin dug her toes around in my crotch while she let me ponder that one. I had given up on trying to contain my squirming.

"I'll get dessert to go," she said. "And, if you're a good girl, I'll feed it to you while you sit on my lap. After your freshening up, of course."

I thought about those silk stockings again. I thought about how my ass would still be hot and stinging from the strap as I sat down. And I thought about Miss Karin's gentle coos of praise as she fed me dessert.

"Yes, Miss Karin. I'll be a good girl."

Miss Karin leaned forward and cupped my cheek in her hand. She caressed my skin with her thumb. "I know you will, Zaheera. I have all the confidence in the world. And I just know you're going to nail that interview tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am."

*

A Trial Run

We had just stepped into the lobby when Miss Karin said, "Strip for me."

I looked around at the floor to ceiling glass that separated the lobby from the hallway. This office suite was not the only tenant in the building. If anyone were to walk by on their way to an aroma therapy session down the hall, or a check up with their dentist...

"Zaheera."

It only took my name in a less than happy tone for me to peel my shirt off, tossing it aside, before hopping around trying to loosen up my clingy-crotch jeans. The only thing I was left with was the black leather strap in my hand—the one Miss Karin had asked me to tuck in my waistband. My nipples were still at full attention as I offered it to her.

She took the strip of leather, and the boxed dessert from lunch, and set them on the receptionist's desk there in the lobby. She then walked to the waiting area chair where I had tossed my clothes. Miss Karin picked up and folded the top part of my jeans so that the crotch part was now facing up. I flushed a little when I saw just how darkly it was stained with my moisture. She picked my shirt up by the collar and mated it together with the wet spot. She then brought both to my chin.

I smiled. I knew where this was leading. Without prompting, I opened my mouth. She stuffed the gathered fabric between my teeth. I got to experience the taste my own lust seeping into my mouth. I think that was the point of all the folding. I bit down and sucked greedily.

"This way," she said, picking up the strap and the dessert. Her voice had pitched up an octave and it gave me some hope that her earlier disappointment in my slowness to undress was dissipating. Miss Karin walked through the doorway leading to the inner offices and directed me toward hers while she hung back. I was almost sure it was so she could watch my bare ass as I walked. I put a little extra wiggle into it for her.

"Drop your clothing in the corner," she said. "Not by my plant. Then stand at attention with your arms folded behind your back.

"Yes, ma'am." I knew exactly what to do. All the girls had practiced this during our training. I put one arm behind my back and then the other, bending my elbows at ninety degrees and clasping them with the opposite hand, just like I had been taught. My right leg started to shake and I willed it to stop.

"Very good, Zaheera." Karin paced a slow circle around me. "The domme inspecting you tomorrow is very regimented, as I mentioned. She will no doubt want to test you knowledge when it comes to your positions. Shall we run through some now?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Miss Karin walked over to her desk to deposit the strap and carry-out dessert she still held. She opened the lid on the dessert container, exposing a wide slice of cheesecake. She then smoothed out the leather strap right next to the to-go box. "Don't forget your reward for a job well done."

"Yes, ma'am." At that moment, I really wasn't sure if Miss Karin meant her feeding me the cheesecake or her wielding the strap on my tender bottom. So, I really don't know which thought it was that caused a tiny rivulet of wetness to make its way down my inner thigh.

"Present yourself for inspection, Zaheera."

"Yes, ma'am." I brought my hands up behind my head and laced my fingers together. At the same time I spread my feet to match the width of my shoulders. I arched my back and pushed my chest out while I kept my chin up and eyes down. My nipples were so hard they ached.

In this position, I could see Karin circling me, but with my eyes lowered, only from the waist down. Which, for me, was not a bad thing. I still had a view of those lovely stockings. Miss Karin dragged the leather strap across the tops of my shoulders as I shivered.

With her free hand, she caressed my tummy, cupped my breasts one at a time, and even pinched my nipples while I squirmed. All the while the strap never left my skin as she swished it slowly back and forth.

"Do you like to masturbate, Zaheera?"

"You already—"

Karin stopped dragging the strap and lifted it from my shoulders.

"Um. Yes. Yes, ma'am."

"Good girl." She had folded the leather in her hand and was brushing the looped end against my cheek. "Show me. Right hand."

"Yes, ma'am." I loosened my fingers and brought the index finger of my right hand down to part my folds. The heat surprised me. I knew I was wanton after all of Miss Karin's teasing at lunch, but I hadn't suspected just how much until now. My finger slipped in with ease. At the same time, I painted my juices over my clit with my thumb.

I began pressing in and out, rubbing slowly so as not to set anything off. If my potential domme was as regimented as Karin said, I'm sure she would not want to see her girl coming without permission. I couldn't believe how quickly things ramped up. In spite of myself, I began to quiver.

Miss Karin stopped any thought of climax with her hand on my forearm. She dragged my dripping finger up until it was eye level between us. "Would you say you're a good tasting girl, Zaheera?"

"Um, uh... yes, ma'am."

"You don't sound too sure. Maybe you should show me." She licked her lips.

"Yes, ma'am." I started to move my hand toward Miss Karin's waiting mouth. She pushed in the opposite direction.

"You first," she said.

"Yes, ma'am." I wrapped my lips around my own finger and pressed in until it tickled the back of my tongue. I slurped at my tangy juices as I pulled my finger back out with a small pop.

"My turn," said Miss Karin, as she leaned in to circle my lips with her tongue. She then invaded my mouth, searching every corner while I moaned and tried to stay upright.

Miss Karin grinned and then closed the remaining distance between us with a warm embrace. "Oh, Zaheera," she said, as she brought my head to her shoulder, "you are simply splendid. I'm having strong feelings about taking you home right now."

"Thank you, ma'am." I didn't know if she was serious or just being nice, giving me a back up option in case things didn't work out tomorrow. But, I did allow myself a small fantasy of rolling those stockings down her legs before helping her into the bath.

"How about you call me Karin from here on out? Miss Karin if you'd like to keep it formal." She gave me one last squeeze and held me at arms length. I watched her looking me up and down. I sincerely hoped she might be sizing me up to see how I'd look kneeling beside her tub with a washcloth.

"Yes, Miss Karin." I tried my best to keep my expression neutral, but inside I was bursting.

"Now, shall we run you through the rest of your positions or do you want to get straight to the tingly bottom and the cheesecake?"

"One can never have enough practice, Miss Karin."

"Oh, that's the spirit, Zaheera."

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Miss Karin calling out a position and then looking me up and down as she critiqued my performance. Most of the time it involved a gentle correction, either with her warm hands or a quick kiss of the strap. Sometimes her hands would just wander for no apparent reason.

"Stick those tits out, Zaheera," she would say, or, "Show me that gorgeous ass, Zaheera." But my favorite by far was when she took me by the wrist and guided my hand up under her skirt. "Do you feel what your body does to me, Zaheera?"

I don't think I'll ever wash that hand again.

My last position for the day involved me in front of Miss Karin's desk, leaning forward with my elbows touching the polished wood surface and my hair hanging in my face. I knew exactly what was coming next—a tingly, pink bottom.

"I want to see an arch in that lovely back, Zaheera."