Chapter 2 - Mistress

Just before three o'clock the next day Alan walked past Martha's desk, admiring the virginally white demure blouse buttoned to the neck and the rather old-fashioned long dark burgundy skirt with white shoestockings peeping out of the slit which went to waist level at one side. He could almost swear she had no knickers on and he remembered exactly how she had looked yesterday lying naked on the bed for his inspection and approval.

She frowned at him and he suddenly felt like a little boy, caught having naughty thoughts.

He went across to her and said, "Almost time to go home, I'll give you a lift again."

"No! People would notice," she replied, "I'll meet you there."

Alan stared at her, and then realised that she was right; twice in two days would look odd, especially as he lived nowhere near her parents' apartment. He couldn't wait to get his prick inside her; he had been rock hard most of the day, just thinking about it.

Finishing work at about five past three, Martha went out of the building chatting with one of the other girls. When they got to the hoverbus stop Martha joined the long queue while the other girl walked on to do a little shopping. While she was waiting for the hoverbus to turn up, she noticed Alan's hovercar parked a little way down the road.

'Oh dear, ' she thought, 'He's going to follow the bus.'

As she alighted from the bus, she looked around and, sure enough, there was Alan's car half a block away, dawdling down the road. She quickly walked to the old building where her new apartment was, ran up the stairs and let herself in. All appeared to be as it had been when she left the night before; she had stayed with her parents last night, though she fully intended to live in the new apartment from now on.

Just to be certain that all was well she used the 3V to check with the Registry again and it was really true, Alan had fixed things exactly as they were the day before; she was still officially two people, and there had been no other inquiries about either of her since she had checked the day before. Then she noticed that she had two credit accounts, one for each identity and that the new one had rather more credit than the old one. Alan had obviously given her a "little present" and would doubtless be here to collect her virginity, for which he had given so much, any minute.

Martha took a deep breath and thought, 'Well, you've chosen your bed, now you have to lie on it. And open your legs for him.'

As she thought that, she felt her pussy lips dampen and her nipples rise; evidently her body wanted to be fucked, even if her mind was nervous about it. Just then she heard Alan on the stairs and he slipped quietly into the room.

'First I must stop him following the hoverbus, someone is sure to notice, ' she thought.

"Alan, you broke one of my five rules today, twice. Offering to bring me here in your car, and then following the hoverbus were both stupid acts which could have been noticed by the others at work," she said firmly as he reached for her.

His reaction amazed her, and he even surprised himself, for he knelt down in front of her and said, "I'm sorry, Mistress; I didn't think. I'll try to be better behaved in future."

Taking her cue from his attitude, and wondering just how far she could go, Martha said, "As punishment you may lick my shoe until it shines."

She was astonished when his reply was "Oh, that's no punishment. That is a privilege, Mistress," and he started licking and kissing her left foot.

"Stop it," she said, a little embarrassed by his behaviour.

But then she thought that if he wanted to play at being her slave, she wouldn't mind and it was better than him expecting her to play at being his slave.

"You are supposed to be here for a reason, aren't you?" she asked, "I thought you came to take my virginity, not to clean my shoes. Now behave and do it properly. No half measures, and I expect an orgasm at the same time," she demanded.

Alan stood up and said, "Yes, Mistress. I'll do my best Mistress. May I help you to undress, Mistress?"

"Not until you are naked," she replied, as severely as she could.

Inside she just wanted to laugh at this man, ten years older than her and her boss at work, playing at being her ... what? Child? Servant? Sex toy? No, slave, that was it, slave.

Meanwhile Alan had taken off his clothes quickly and Martha looked at him to see what kind of slave she had. He was a couple of inches taller than her and she guessed that he probably weighed about ten stone (140lbs) with a body which looked athletic and fit with good, masculine looking muscles and a mat of fine silky hair covering his chest. He had a flat belly and a nice small arse. His legs were also obviously well exercised and nicely proportioned. All in all a fine physical specimen.

Finally she let her gaze rest on the proud soldier sticking out from the matt of hair at his belly. She had seen, and handled, the pricks of several of her boyfriends, but she was sure none of them was as perfectly proportioned as this one, nor so beautifully coloured. Then she realised that it was her cunt wanting it inside her that made it look so enticing.

"Now you may assist me to undress. Start by unbuttoning my blouse," she said.

He moved cautiously towards her, hardly able to believe how lucky he was; Martha seemed to be able to sympathise perfectly with his private fantasies about being owned by a strict Mistress, while in fact she was, nevertheless, dependent on his whim for her job, her income and her accommodation. He undid the seventeen buttons down the front of her blouse slowly, tantalising himself, and let it hang open revealing a very ordinary and sensible brassiere. He was glad she hadn't tried to dress in sexy underwear; that sort of thing could come later. For now she was his virgin to introduce to sex, though he had a shrewd idea that she had done pretty well everything else but actually fuck.

"Now the shoestockings," she said, diverting his attention from her breasts to the leg that was poking out of the slit in the side of her skirt. As he reached to unfasten the waistband of the skirt she smacked his hand, not entirely playfully, and snapped, "Not the skirt yet."

"Sorry, Mistress," he murmured slightly impatiently as he dropped to his knees and took hold of the top edge of her left shoestocking and gently peeled it down her leg, kissing her thigh and calf as he did so. When he had peeled it right to her ankle he gently lifted her foot and took off the shoe part of it, bringing the rolled-up stocking with it, and kissing each toe in turn.

"You did that quite well," Martha said, "You must have had lots of practice."

"Yes," he answered, "My wife wears them, and likes me to take hers off."

"Naughty boy!" said Martha, "Don't ever mention her again to me. She is not your Mistress, I am."

"Sorry, Mistress."

Alan seemed genuinely contrite this time and his prick drooped a little as though in shame. It was as though he felt that he really had said the wrong thing.

Martha was enjoying this game, in spite of Alan's prick making her cunt feel empty and wanting every time she noticed it. She would have loved to kneel and kiss it, something one of her boyfriends had asked for, but which she had never done, nor wished to do before today. What stopped her was that she wanted Alan always to be the one asking for favours, and her to be in charge, the Mistress, sometimes granting them and sometimes withholding them.