Let me be clear, whenever I start a good story only to find it unfinished and never to be finished I feel let down.
I promise to never do this to my readers. I will only post complete works from now on and let the chips fall where they may. Right now I am working on a Sci Fi piece that has great potential and for the purposes of this venue, great "entertainment" value.
This is just a free sample, it takes place in a high school where a mother is enrolling her son in classes for the next fall. She is accompanied by a hired chauffeur, Clara.
Teddy unsealed his slacks and I dashed from the office without even realizing I had Clara's leash looped around my wrist. I pounded open the door to the locker room slash lavatory. Clara gasped, "Mistress! Is there something the matter?"
"Oh, Shit!" I cried in dismay, "I'm not going to just sit there and watch my son lose his cherry to that, that, that cougar!"
Clara knelt before me, "Mistress, this isn't Terra. After my brother turned sixteen, he used to make my mother prepare breakfast wearing high heels and an apron, and nothing else. Then he'd take her often as not in the ass. Then he'd make my sister and I wash him in the shower by soaping him up with our tits. If any of us were girls less than satisfactory in our efforts. We'd be whipped."
"Mistress, before you leap to conclusions, ask yourself. Are your thighs drenched because you enjoyed seeing her suffer? Or wear you wishing to take her place?" she asked me as we ran to the looker room.
I replied, "That's utterly barbaric! How can you stand such treatment!"
She kissed the back of my hand, "That's simple, Mistress. Market forces. Didn't I tell you that I am also a professor of Socio-economics. Twelve hundred years ago two shiploads of pioneers settled this planet. Does that time frame mean anything to you? Well, it was right at the end of the Second Federation. For fifty years interstellar trade ground to a stand still. Between, out right warfare and rampant piracy only one ship in ten got through. We didn't slide all the way into barbarism, even though the Islamic Hegemony dropped a bio-genetic weapon on us that killed a third of our population. We glassed their planets, by the way.
That was nine centuries ago. It left without two thirds of our men. Then the second half of The Curse struck. That's what we call it. Our birth rate is twelve females to one male. And Mistress, that's after eight hundred years of immigration. Almost all males. You were allowed to immigrate only because you brought two men with you, Mistress. The only unescorted women allowed in already have collars and bar codes," she showed the three dee bar code on her forearm, "There are a hundred girls from Mumbuto from the ship you arrived on, all sweet sixteen and never been kissed. Yes, it's cruel, but it beats dying of starvation."
She continued to search for tidbits my sex with her tongue. Then after I came hard biting my hand to stifle a scream she let me go. Her fingers found the skin seals on my dress and in a second she had the garment off. It was a cheongsam, picked on the ship to suit the climate and still be somewhat professional. The dress covered my nipples and breasts, but was bare from the neckline to just above the crack of my ass. The below knee length skirt was split to my hip bones on each side. Its construction supported my tits while covering my sex and nipples with dense lace. The rest was quite airy in a royal blue floral pattern. She peeled off my stockings and placed my clothes in the fresher, "That machine takes ten minutes to cycle," she said, "Let me wash you so you don't smell like a dripping cunt at the bank."
She led me to the Nipponese style showers and had me stand as she squirted me off with the hose, and soaped me down. She continued her narrative, "What I'm saying, Mistress, is that here, on Minerva, any woman that wants a man will naturally submit to her man. No matter what trips his trigger. Because if she doesn't there's a dozen of so that will gladly take her place."
This one is my first attempt at first person perspective from a woman's POV. Bare with me, I'm a man and have been for over five decades. And, like I said it's just a peek.
Thanks to those that have enjoyed the first chapters of Iron Ankh. It will be a while before there is more.
First my health is not the best. This last year has been a real trial. Both on myself and my family.
Second, I have another bun in the oven. A truly kinky fan fic tale scoffing in derision at Leave it to Beaver!
Expect the first installments of "Mom Helps With His Homework" soon.
RP