Chapter 20: Reflection

Once I finally admitted to Jane I no longer had control of my own life, Jane grabbed her cell phone and made a call. I listened intently; curious to know who she was calling. Jane cursed, "Fuck, I got her machine." She waited a few seconds before leaving a message. "Dr. White, this is Jane. I have an emergency, well actually my good friend Ann does. I need to get her in to see you as soon as possible. Please call me as soon as you get this."

Jane hung the phone up and came back and held me in her arms.

Oddly, instead of feeling the great overwhelming warmth of friendship she was giving me, I felt a tingle down below, a slight flickering of a flame. I desperately tried to squelch the strange desire. My body was eagerly willing to submit to my good, pregnant, friend, while my brain was fighting against such a ridiculous desire. I fought hard to resist the burning temptation and like the old me, the stubborn determined me, I overcame the challenge.

Jane drove me home and we avoided the topic of my transformation and instead talked about her pregnancy, her husband's refusal to have sex with her because in his mind he could hurt the baby and how bored she was at home. She joked about how the highlight of her day was what kind of freak shows would be on Jerry Springer each day. I thought to myself, I could probably have my very own special Jerry Springer moment.

Her phone rang a few blocks from my place and Jane quickly pulled over to answer it. She looked at the phone caller I.D. and informed me it was Dr. White, before quickly answering the phone. "Thank you for returning my call, Dr. White." A couple of seconds later Jane explained my fall from propriety and how I was too weak to stop it on my own.

She spoke as if I wasn't there. Listening and hearing the harsh truth of what I had become was like hitting rock bottom for a drunk. It was humiliating, devastating and humbling. It was clear, I needed professional help.

I was distracted from my thoughts by Jane. "Dr. White is out if town this weekend, but will return early to meet with you at 8 on Monday. You can make that, right?"

I quickly agreed, desperate to get my freedom back, "Yes, Jane, I will be there."

"Excellent. Here is her card. Be early, she is a stickler for punctuality."

"Thanks Jane and I am so sorry you had to see what you saw," I apologized, tears flowing down my face.

"It's ok, Ann, I am here for you," Jane replied, giving me one more hug. For the second time though, instead of comfort, I felt temptation. Luckily, the embrace was short and soon Jane was driving me the last few blocks home.

We said our goodbyes and I waited until her car had disappeared from my view before I went inside. I went directly to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass and took a bath. I soaked in my sin for an hour and a half and two-thirds of a bottle of wine while reflecting on the past month. There had been so many times I could have stood up for myself, so many times to get back my dignity, yet I never did. As much as I hated the utter humiliation I had endured, I also couldn't deny the pure sexual bliss I felt when I brought Ms. Audree to an orgasm or when I was finally allowed to have one myself. Because in the end, through all the degradation, all the life-altering changes, I could no longer imagine a life without Ms. Audree.

I got out of the tub, finished the wine and gazed at the television. Sleepless in Seattle was on. It's one of my favourite movies. I love Tom Hanks; why couldn't I ever meet a sweet guy like him? I also love Meg Ryan movies. I reflected about how the movie is about the impact fate has on love. They were meant to be and thus fate and his adorable son made sure it happened. Was Ms. Audree my fate? Before she entered my life, my life had been incredibly hum-drum. I woke up, I worked, I came home and I repeated the cycle. My sex life had become non-existent and I had not had any sort of semblance of a social life. If nothing else, my life was no longer predictable and my sex life was no longer stagnant. Of course, I was often a nervous wreck and probably on a crash course to an emotional collapse. I watched the Hollywood happy ending and crawled into bed, wondering what my happy ending would look like.

21. A STRANGE DREAM

I woke up dripping in sweat and leaking out blood and juice. Great I was horny and I got my period. I sat straight up realizing my dream which seemed so real, was just a dream. As I began to really wake up, I quickly got up, cleaned myself up, put on a pad and returned to bed. I lay back on the dry side of my bed and replayed the strange, yet seemingly real, dream.

I was working late one night when a still very pregnant Jane walked into my office. I greeted, "Hi, Jane, still no baby."

Jane collapsed on the couch and sighed, "He won't even come close to me."

I quit working and went to sit beside her. "Oh Jane, men are stupid. He won't hurt the baby; actually sex can help bring labour on."

"I know," Jane said, with a smile on her face I had never seen before.

"Go home and demand he fuck you," I suggested.

Jane ignored my suggestion, "Are you still Audree's slut?"

I let out a gasp at my good friend calling me a slut. I answered her shocking question, my facial expression mortified, "Yes."

Jane's sweet expression turned, "On your knees, slut."

I didn't instantly obey, so stunned from the words of my very pregnant friend. I stammered, "J-J-Jane."

"Don't you Jane me, Annie-girl." I flinched at my friend using the derogatory pet name my black Mistress used for me. "I tried to help you but you didn't listen, so I figure I might as well get mine too."

"Yours too?" I asked, dazed.

"Yes, Annie-girl. I love you as a friend, but I have had to put up with a lot of your dramatic over-the-top bullshit over the years and today I will reap my rewards for all those years of it."

I was speechless.

"I will not ask again, Annie-girl. Get on your knees."

I obeyed, my head reeling from this shocking turn of events.

"Good girl," Jane purred, patting my head. "Do you have a strap-on here?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jane," I replied, trying to be a good girl for her.

"Mrs. Jane, I like that," she smiled. "Now I don't plan to humiliate you like your Mistress does. It is quite simple, I need to get fucked. Hard, deep and fast and you are going to do it for me, understood?"

A smile crossed my face for the first time. Whoever had the strap-on around their waist had the power. "Understood, Mrs. Jane."

"Good, now take off the skirt and get your cock on."

I laughed at the absurd order but quickly discarded my skirt and went to my cabinet where Ms. Audree kept her supply of toys. I put on the seven inch dick and returned to a now fully naked pregnant Jane.

She looked so beautiful in her pregnancy glow. Her breasts, regularly quite large, were now mammoth. Her large belly bump seemed sexy to me. I stood in front of her, my cock ready for action, and admired her body.

Jane impatiently ordered, "Get me wet with your tongue first, Annie-girl, you must be pretty good at it by now."

I fell to my knees like the submissive I was and was astonished to feel my cunt getting wet. Jane opened her legs to present me her hairy pussy (not as hairy as my bush before the waxing, but still a lot of hair). I leaned forward tentatively and began to lick.

The second my tongue touched her pussy lips she let out a loud moan. "Oh, Annie-girl that feels so good. You have no idea how many years I have wanted to have you as my personal slut."

I asked, stunned by the revelation, "Really?"

She pulled me back into her hairy cunt as she explained, "Of course, Annie-girl, although I have learned to tolerate your ridiculous outbursts and tantrums, a part of me has always wanted to put you in your place. I never fantasized that you would be a dirty cunt-eating dyke, but what a bonus you have become. I just wanted you to come to understand how humiliating it is to be treated like shit, but apparently you get off on that, so go figure. Aahhhh."

I couldn't believe that the person I worked with best also saw me as a whiny child. I continued to lick her hairy cunt and could feel her juices beginning to be released. I took her clit and some hair into my mouth and sucked in.

"Oh my fucking God, yes, Annie-girl, that's it," Jane screamed.

I continued the concentrated clit pressure and added a finger, which I slipped inside my pregnant friend's pussy.

"Oh yes, you fucking whore, finger me, yes, yes," Jane screamed.

I kept full pressure on her clit while I pumped my finger in and out of Jane's dripping wet box.

Jane ordered, as she sat up, turned around so her ass end was facing me, "Annie, I need to be fucked. Not made love to, fucked hard, fucked deep and fucked fast."

I got behind her and slid my plastic cock deep inside my pregnant colleague.

She screamed, "Oh fuck yes, fuck me slut, fuck your white Mistress."

Hearing her call herself Mistress stunned me. Was this going to be more than a one-time thing? I let the thought fade away and just focused on fucking her hard and fast. I thrust in and out of her cunt as fast and hard as I could, so deep in fact that you could hear the spanking sound of my pelvis hitting her ass with each thrust.

Jane was huffing and puffing and holding on to the back of the couch as I fucked her as hard as I possibly could. "Oh yes, fuck me, pound my pussy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck meeeee," she screamed as the orgasm shook through her body. I kept fucking her hard and deep while she shuddered in pure orgasmic bliss. Her breathing continued to be erratic until she said, "Please stop."

I pulled my plastic cock out her and stood watching my pregnant assistant attempt to regain her composure after the hardcore fucking she had just received.

Jane turned around and collapsed on the couch with the smile of a woman completely satisfied. "Wow, Annie-girl, if only I had known years ago what kind of sexual submissive deviant you were."

I blushed, but stood still.

She opened her legs, "Annie-girl, this is just the beginning. Now come clean up your new Mistress."

That was when I woke up. What did such a dream mean? Did I want to be dominated by Jane? The thought had never even crossed my mind before that naughty dream, other than a brief passing thought last night. My soaking wet pussy implied it turned me on. Yet, as I thought about Jane it occurred to me that she was way too sweet, way too nice to ever do what I just dreamt.

The rest of the weekend was a mental nightmare. One minute I was determined to break free from the hold Ms. Audree had over me, the next minute I craved just the thought of her taste, her touch, her dominance. Every dream I had was one of me in complete submission: to Ms. Audree, to Sarah, to Jane, to the redhead on the bus. Submission had come to dominate my every waking and sleeping thought ... which meant only one thing ... I indeed needed the help of Dr. White. I had to ignore my daydreams and my many body urges, I had to regain myself...

22. THERAPY SESSION #1

As I prepared to leave to go to my first therapy session, I was riddled with anxiety. What would I tell Ms. Audree? What should I wear? If I broke dress code, how would I deal with the consequences Ms. Audree would attempt to administer? Would I be able to stand up for myself after one appointment? Could I deal with all the consequences that came with rejecting my Mistress? The video would surely go public. Ms. Audree was not a woman who liked to lose. Lastly, did I really want to break free?

I compromised in my dressing attire for the day. Since I now had my period, I could justify panties. I wore thigh high stockings, but I could argue I was wearing those because I now loved wearing them (which was true), and not to please my Mistress. I wore the longest skirt I owned and a nice blue blouse. I looked quite business-like.

I left a message at work that I would not be arriving until approximately 9:30. I arrived at Dr. White's office a few minutes early and waited patiently. After a few minutes of waiting, I was greeted by a pretty, but quite chunky woman. I followed her into her office and looked around. There was a nice leather couch with a matching chair, a table with four chairs, and a nice oak desk. I expected one of those beds where I would lie down as she sat in her comfy chair and psycho-analyzed me. That is what happens from watching too much TV.

She invited me to sit on the couch and she sat, with a clipboard, on the nearby chair.

"Hi, I am Dr. White, but you can call me Helen."

"I am Ann and you can call me Ann," I replied, going for witty and trying to break the awkward tension I imagine only I felt. I wondered briefly about all the people who came in here with their problems. Where did I fit in the crazy mix of Dr. White's daily schedule?

She gave me a sweet smile and began, "So let's begin with a bit about yourself. Tell me about who you are. For example, let's start with your childhood."

I pondered this question before responding with a clarity I had never realized before today. "I grew up in an old-school family. Dad worked, mom stayed home and did the cooking, cleaning and raised all us kids."

"I see."

"I never really realized it then, but based on my past month, I have become my mother."

"How so?" Dr. White queried.

"Well, in our house the rules were very clear. Dad was the boss. It bordered on ridiculous at times. Dad would phone from downstairs while he was watching some sporting event and would call upstairs for Mom to bring him down a beer and my mom dropped whatever she was doing to get him what he requested. I never put much thought into it, but I am guessing that my mother is submissive."

"Like you?"

"Yes, I suppose," I replied, putting my head down.

"Ann, it is ok to recognize your faults, because until you do there are no strategies to change."

"Really?" I asked, suddenly hopeful.

"Yes. A drunk won't quit drinking until he decided he has a problem, often not realizing it until he hits rock bottom."

"Not sure I understand," I responded, confused by the correlation between me and an alcoholic.

"You see you are obviously submissive, like your mother, because that is the life you grew up in. You were destined to be submissive unless you purposely attempted to avoid it."

"Ok," I tentatively responded.

"No different than a child who grew up with an alcoholic father. The odds are he will end up an alcoholic too, unless he makes a conscious dedicated effort to break free from his father's influence."

"I suppose."

After a brief pause, she asked, "Thinking back to your male relationships in high school, college and your marriage, were you submissive?"

"Yes, but not in the same way I have become now. I liked to please my boyfriends or my husband, both in the bedroom and just in general. In retrospect, we went to the restaurants they wanted to go to, watched the movies they chose and so forth. I never really got to make any of the choices. That is why I love my job so much."

"Because you are clearly in charge?"

"Yes, it is the exact opposite of the rest of my life."

"That makes sense." There was another pause before she informed me, "Jane told me a little about your ordeal, but I need to hear it from you."

I spent the next twenty-five minutes recalling as best I could, my sexual downfall. She listened and wrote a lot if notes, but didn't speak until the end.

"So, do you think you are submissive to all women or just black women?"

The question was tough. I had no real frame of reference to confirm the theory, but the bus temptations and the dream I had of Jane implied maybe race didn't matter. I responded, "I don't think race is a factor."

"So you would submit to any man or woman?"

"God no," I replied, getting defensive.

"What would you do if I ordered you to get on the floor right now and crawl over to me?" Dr. White asked.

I was stunned. Was this a test or was she actually implying I should submit to her? As I attempted to consider an answer, I felt my pussy tingle just the slightest. I stammered, "I don't know."

"Well let's find out," my 100 dollar an hour therapist said as she ordered, her voice shifting from compassionate to authoritative, " Ann, get on all fours, like a good pet, and crawl to me."

I was stunned. Humiliation burned inside me, but I obeyed the chubby therapist's demand and dropped to the floor and crawled over to her black pantyhose legs and two-inch heels.

As soon as I arrived, she surprised me again, "Oh my, my, this is worse than I thought. Go sit down Ann."

Humiliation burned even hotter inside me as I realized I had just failed a test. I obeyed again and returned to the couch, my head down like a child who has disappointed her mother, father or teacher.

"Ann, would you have serviced me sexually if I had ordered you to?"

"Yes," I replied, with a shameful whisper.

"Why?"

Anger replaced embarrassment, I snapped, "Why would you do that to me? I am sick of being treated like a fucking piece of meat!"

She returned to her soothing voice. "I had to see how deep you were into your submissive persona."

"But that was humiliating!" I said, still angry.

"Yet, I am guessing, and please don't be offended by my accusation, that obeying my order got you at least slightly sexually aroused. Am I correct?"

I sighed, and then I cried, and blabbered through tears, "Yes, I am so pathetic."

"Not pathetic, just hitting rock bottom."

I realized she was right. The tears still falling down my cheeks, I asked, "How do I break free?"

"By regaining your independence, Ann."

"How do I do that?"

"One day at a time. Can you be here tomorrow at 8?"

"Yes."

"OK, we will continue this tomorrow. But you need to be strong, Ann."

"I understand, but every time I think I can break free, I succumb to her charms and threats when the time comes."

"We can work on that tomorrow," she smiled, "but you need to take the initiative too. You need to regain your independence. Regain you."

"OK, Dr. White, I will try," I said.

I left her office feeling rejuvenated, yet with no real strategy to actually deal with Ms. Audree.

23. THE FIRST TEMPTATION OF PENELOPE

I arrived at work and there was a note on my desk as usual.

Dear Annie-girl,

Come immediately to Penelope's office.

Ms. Audree

On the bright side, there was no sexual order to fulfill. On the not so bright side I assumed this was all part of Ms. Audree's plan to seduce Penelope. A plan I assumed she would want me to play an intricate part in.

I went to Penelope's office and was greeted by Ms. Audree, "Well, happy you could join us." Her voice sounded sweet and humorous to the others, but I could tell she wasn't impressed.

I apologized, "Sorry, I had an 8 a.m. commitment."

Audree gave me an odd look, but luckily didn't push me which was good because I really had no idea what I was going to tell her.

Penelope explained, "I don't know how but Audree got us a meeting on Thursday with Ford and if we can get this contract we would be locked in and would be their exclusive marketing agent for five years."

"Wow, way to go, Ms. Audree," I congratulated, duly impressed.

"It was nothing," she shrugged.

"Stop being modest, Audree. It is a huge opportunity for us and you deserve the credit."

Audree shrugged and joked, the true innuendo only clear to me, "Ok, ok, you should all bow to my feet and call me Goddess."

"Can we get to work on this?" Penelope's assistant, the gay Markus, asked.

Audree explained, "It is clear that Ford is hoping to aim their new campaign at younger guys. They want their F150 series trucks to be hip and cool. The kind of truck that will glorify their manhood and convince them this truck will get them laid."

Finally in a comfort zone I liked, brainstorming, I asked, "So they want to sell their truck as the Porsche of trucks?"

"Exactly," Audree agreed.

Penelope asked, "So sexy, not slutty?"

"That is the million-dollar question. I was thinking we should start with a sexy campaign, but have a naughtier one ready as well."

"In three days?" Markus asked.

"Yep, do you have a problem with that, Princess?" Audree challenged.

He glared in response. Penelope took charge now, "Well, let's get cracking."

The rest of the morning was brainstorming. We tossed around idea after idea before finally settling on a somewhat risqué plan. "Do you want to get trucked?" the innuendo was clearly there, but if the censorship police questioned it, we could always argue ambiguity.

We had lunch ordered in and worked through the afternoon on a variety of poster ads. By suppertime we had hit a brick wall. Every ad was to this or to that.

Penelope was rubbing her neck when Audree asked, "Do you need a neck massage, Penelope?"

Penelope yawned, "Are you offering?"

"Of course, I give a mean neck and back massage."

Audree went behind her and gently began rubbing her neck. I couldn't believe it, but I felt a pang of jealousy when I saw Audree giving such attention to another woman. I shook the envy from my thoughts. I needed to regain my independence. Instead I tried to solve this ad problem.

Then suddenly it hit me. The truck should be at a motel, parked, a girl's stocking leg, like in The Graduate movie poster, in the window and the slogan, "Do you want to get trucked?" Of course, any hint of ambiguity would be gone with such an ad, but the ad would be perfect for the young crowd they were aiming at, especially in magazines like Maxim. The ad could be placed in guy's bathrooms as well. I quickly made a demo ad.

I glanced over to Penelope who had her eyes closed and up to Ms. Audree, who was smiling at me.