Promenade yer Partner, Round and Round...
"You look fantastic! Stunning!"
"Thanks, Mom," Pauline answered, blushing furiously. It was the afternoon before the prom, and Pauline was at the salon. Mrs. Van Devanter had been ferrying her daughters about town all morning and afternoon. Kate was at the dressmaker's, which was Pauline's next stop. Mom was going to take Pauline there and drop Kate off in exchange back at this salon.
Her usually billowing light-brown hair was up, held by lavender ribbons and the better half of a can of hairspray. Her fingernails and toenails were lacquered to match the hair ribbons. After some last-minute hemming and stitching her dress would be ready, also the same color. She was giddy with anticipation.
This was all a bit new for her; she had never been a satin and lace type of girl. No tomboy her, but she hadn't really been one to doll it up very often. She preferred comfort to coture; not that she was ever indifferent to her appearance. Rather she strove to find the happy medium between form and function, favoring nice skirts and pants, pretty blouses, eschewing short skirts and clingy tops. But for the prom she went whole hog: a spaghetti-strap dress, open-toe shoes (dyed to match), this ultra-feminine hairstyle, and the nail polish.
* * *
"Gorgeous! Absolutely Gorgeous!" James Van Devanter enthused as his two daughters came down the staircase. Pauline was resplendent in her lavender dress. It was low-cut and tapered to the waist. The bottom was separate, a knee length skirt under a pale translucent ankle length piece which sort of resembled a sarong. It wasn't your typical prom dress, and that was what she wanted. Kate was wearing a more traditional dress, a pastel yellow off the shoulder number, tailored up top to hug her lush figure, cut very low in the back, the hem coming to her mid-calf. Her hair was French braided and up, two yellow bakelite barrettes holding them in place. Mrs. Van Devanter had helped them with their makeup, and they both seemed to glow. Their dad was clicking away like a half-crazed paparazzo.
Alan and Chad, waiting in the living room, came out upon hearing the fuss. They had spent the last twenty minutes or so successfully avoiding conversation. Chad had barely said two words to him since that day, weeks ago, when he confided in his counselor. After he pissed himself a few times he realized that it was pointless to try to tell anyone about what was happening between Kate and Alan. The most embarrassing time was when he had shown up at the Van Devanter's knowing that Kate was not home. The reason he was sure Kate wasn't home was because he had just dropped her off at Alan's.
* * *
It was a late-May Saturday night, the weekend before Memorial Day weekend. They had been out on a date, a teen social at the country club; Kate's cell phone rang just as he had returned from the punch bowl with two glasses. Kate was on her cell phone, and he could tell, just from her side of the conversation to whom she was speaking.
"Yes, Master." Pause. "i'll be right over, Master." Pause. "Yes, he's right here. We're still at the club, Master." Pause. "No wonder You and Pauline left early." Giggle. "i'm sure she was good, she is my kid sister, after all." Throaty laugh, then calmly, "Yes, Master, we came in his car." Pause. Giggle. A look from her which made him feel like the lowest form of life on the Planet Earth, followed by a short--yet derisive--laugh, which he was sure came at his expense. "i'll see You soon." She hit the end button, terminating the call.
"Pity," she said to him, sighing wistfully. "I was hoping to stay till the end of the dance, but when He calls, I go." She picked up her purse and started out. Try as he might he couldn't resist following. As he passed the entrance he spied the trashcan near the door. All he had to do was throw his car keys in the trash! Then he wouldn't be able to take his girlfriend over to Alan Marshall's house, and that turd wouldn't fuck his pretty little Kate. In a way he would be protecting her!
He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the keys, but for some reason he was unable to grasp them. Meanwhile he was still incapable of ceasing his forward progress behind Kate. He kept jabbing his hand into his pocket and coming up empty. Fuck! Goddamn hands! What the fuck is going on?
Kate was waiting at his car, tapping her foot impatiently. When he was within five yards of his Beamer he was at last able to fish his keys out of his pocket, but instead of heaving them into the bushes he just pressed the electronic button on the fob to pop the locks. Kate jumped in and fastened her seatbelt, but he seemed rooted in place, trying with all his will to keep himself from even opening the door on his side. She upbraided him, and his resolve crumbled.
It was a short drive to Marshall's house, and he attempted to talk her out of going, but she was having none of it. As he turned onto Alan's block he was shocked to look at her. She was touching up her makeup in the vanity mirror on the visor, and he could see her quivering in anticipation, her shoulders vibrating, making it harder to work the lipstick across her mouth evenly. He cut the engine and gave her a doleful look. "Kate, baby, are you sure you want to go in there? You don't even know what sick and perverted things he's going to do to you."
She laughed. The sound of it cut through him like a rusty chainsaw. It was a cackle of pure contempt, and it tore him up inside.
She opened the door and started up the path. "Let's go, my Master wants you to come in, too." she ordered, and he found himself following her again, right into the house so he could face Alan Marshall, his humiliation personified. The haughty puke opened the door as she approached; he was wearing slippers and a bathrobe.
In the living room Kate fell to her knees, kneeling before him as if he were a god, which to her he was. By merely prostrating herself before him she was becoming aroused, her nipples popping out to press against the fabric of her dress, her shaven slit slowly secreting juices, the labia becoming sensitive and puffy. She nuzzled her face in Alan's groin, enjoying the feel of the soft material of his robe against her cheek. Alan reached down and pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and it fell to her waist. Her gold nipple rings sparkled in the light. He parted his robe and she mewled as he held the head of his cock against her bright red lips, smearing his manhood with her lipstick. She kissed the head lovingly, and then licked around the crown, savoring the taste of him, greedily lapping up his pre-come.
Her eyes had been closed, and she had all but forgotten that Chad was still here when he spoke.
"Alan, please," he whined. "Do I have to stay here and watch this shit?"
"Yes. Shut up. I'll let you go soon."
Kate's oral skills were fantastic. She had him fully hard in almost no time, and in just a few minutes was taking him to the hilt, her throat stretched out around him, her lips nestling in his pubic hair as she moved her face forward and back on his shaft. She was slobbering profusely and making obscene slurping noises, a curtain of saliva on her chin and all around her mouth, glistening by the light of the room, and little droplets of it falling to her chest. Periodically she would release him and rub his shaft across her cheeks, over her neck, and she even leaned forward to swish her glossy black hair around his crotch; but these were just respites, times she needed to catch her breath before swallowing him whole again.
Alan moved back to the sofa and pulled Kate along with him. He sat, and she crawled up onto the couch on all fours, perpendicular to him, her mouth quickly covering his erection again. He reached under her to rub her pussy.
"You're incredibly wet. More than usual," he commented wryly.
She lift her mouth off of him, gasping because she had been deep throating him. "i like it when you make him watch," she chuckled.
"And you like it when I use you, don't
you?" This was for Chad's benefit, for he had no doubts that she liked his use of her. She demonstrated that every time, in both word and action.
He pulled her up so she was sitting next to him. "Tell him," he said softly. She looked up at her master with questioning eyes, so he elaborated, "Tell Chad why you ditched the dance and came here at my order."
She looked over at the pathetic form of her quote-unquote boyfriend. He was slouched in a chair, facing them, his eyes downcast. Alan put one arm around her shoulder, the hand hanging down and rolling her nipple and ring through his fingers, causing her to pant gently as she continued to answer Alan's questions.
"Because You wanted me to come here. Because You're my Master."
"But why, my little slut," he pressed on, and Chad noticed her quiver when he called her that, "Why did YOU want to come here tonight?"
"i don't understand," she whimpered, her upper lip tremulous. "i came here because You wanted me to. Isn't that the right answer?" She shifted a bit in her seat so she could look at Alan, so she could see His face and gauge His reaction. She wanted so badly not to displease Him.
"Did you want to come here because of the sex?" he asked. His voice was barely above a whisper, not a decibel more than was needed so that Chad could hear from where he was seated.
"Yes," she exhaled, beaming at him.
"But there's something more, isn't there?" he asked, leading her on.
"i, i don't know. i think so. B-but i'm not sure what You are trying to get me to say, Master. Please! Just tell me the words and i'll say them." She began to sob lightly, and He took His hands from her tits and hugged her to Him, holding her firmly in His arms and caressing her gently until she calmed.
