((Okay its been a long time since I've posted anything so I thought I'd put this up. I've taken a break from Confessions, mainly because I've been doing a rewrite of it and since I cant post rewrites I decided to just wait till I get around to knew chapters. This particular story is a little different than Confessions. I wanted to try a non-consensual just cause I'm feeling drawn that way lately. Also through this series and Confessions I'm gonna try a few more fetishes, particularly water sport. It's not in this one though and I'll give a heads up before I do that. So lastly I just wanna say I'd love feedback, as an author it doesn't really get any better than hearing from people that they enjoyed your work. So keep the comments coming, even if you are picking it up after its old. Oh and one last heads up this is an interracial story just as a warning. I know for some people that's not their thing but just so you know up front With that said thanks for reading and please enjoy.))
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It was a pleasantly warm morning, and Sarah Taylor had just risen from her peaceful slumber. Like most eighteen-year-old girls she lived a home with her parents, attended high school, and lived a proper life befitting her proper breeding. She was a beautiful girl, small and petite. Her smooth pale skin looked gorgeous against her dark brown hair and her piercing blue eyes held sway over most of the boys in the school. She was a girl who seemed to have everything and so it was hard for her to understand how things had come to this. With father out buying more scotch and her mother in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner, she was left alone to cope with the fact that she had just been raped by a black man in her own living room.
Thinking back to that morning she had noticed something different in her parents. Her mother moved with an unusual skip in her step and her father seemed both anxious and yet seemed to grin every time he looked at her. The breakfast table was indeed strange but at the time she thought little of it. Taking a seat across her father she started on the pancake breakfast her mother had made. During the week she was more accustomed to eating a bowl of cereal or chewing down a granola bar on her way to the bus, but today her mother had cooked a full breakfast, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage and fresh squeezed orange juice. The pancakes and meat were well enough but the orange juice took her by surprise. Her mother only took the time to squeeze oranges for someone's birthday or a holiday and this morning were neither.
Thankful for the meal she chewed away, munching down as much as she could. (Despite being a small girl she had a very large appetite) She was halfway through her through her breakfast when she saw the time. Her bus had left her fifteen minutes ago, and now she would need to either walk to school or beg her father for a ride. Quickly she turned to him with a whimpering expression. She knew he didn't like driving her in the mornings but hoped that this time he'd make an exception for his little girl.
When Mr. Taylor saw the expression on his daughters face he could hardly stifle his laughter. "That's a whole lot of wasted effort sweetie." Sarah started to frown when he continued adding, "besides, your not even going to school today kid. Why don't you go back up stairs and get some rest." At first Sarah thought he was joking, even as he smiled at her. It wasn't until he got up from the table, gathered his things and walked out the door that she even dared to hope he was serious. The minute the door closed she turned to her mother and asked, "Is that really true. I don't have to go to school today?"
Mrs. Taylor confirmed her hopes, telling her that she could take the day off. Sarah's breakfast tasted all the sweeter. When she was done she washed her plate off in the sink and scampered up the stairs back to her bedroom. That morning she slept all the way until noon. Even after she awoke she laid quietly in her bed, savoring the extent to which her parent's had allowed her laziness to develop. From the hall she could hear her mother talking on the phone. She spoke too softly for Sarah to make out any of conversation but from the tone of her voice she could tell that she was very happy.
'Maybe I made honor-roll this semester' she wondered. Though that was rather unlikely. Her English grade was abysmal; she'd be lucky if she even passed the class. After Mrs. Taylor hung up the phone she peeked into her daughters room. Sarah was laying silently under her sheets, though she suspected that the girl was awake. Like any mother she thought nothing of tossing the door open and walking into her Sarah's room. She gave Sarah a gentle tap on the butt to wake her up and went to her closet to pull down clothes for the day.
"Now honey we have some special guest coming tonight, I need you to wear something nice." After looking through the closet Mrs. Taylor decided on a blue jean skirt and a pink and white striped polo. To finish the ensemble she reached into Sarah's personal shoe rack and tossed out a pair of pink flip-flops. "This should be fine."
It had been a decade since her mother had picked out clothes for her, but today not only did Sarah watch her mom decide on her shirt, skirt, bra, and panties, she even told her what pair of shoes to wear. This was simply too much for her. She started to tell her mother that she was plenty old enough to pick out nice clothes for herself but the giddy woman was out of her room before Sarah could finish her statement. Giving in to her better judgment, she thought it best not to upset her parents when they seemed so keen on treating her like a princess. After all there was no telling when this treatment would stop, with her luck they'd be back to griping about her grades before dinner. Sarah dressed herself in the clothes her mother had set out and, brushed her hair and met her mom downstairs for lunch. It was then that she was finally given an explanation for why everyone seemed so overly happy.