Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2012 12:18:40 +1100
From: angela adamson <prettyangela@live.com>
Subject: Homage: a sequel (for /nifty/lesbian/authoritarian/)

Homage: a sequel
by
Angela Adamson, prettyangela@live.com


This story is a sequel to the events narrated in my earlier story "Homage".


BEFORE

The last few weeks have been the strangest in my life.  It is my wedding
day.  How traditional that sounds and yet how bizarre the bride's life is.
It is not that she is heavily pregnant - that is not unusual in today's
society.  It is not that the ceremony takes place in the ballroom of a
hotel rather than a church - again, this is not rare nowadays.  No, the
truly incredible thing about my wedding day is that, in attendance will be
two people more important than the groom: a mature woman Faye Duncan, and
my niece Tracey.


Why is that so strange?  Oh reader, you will hardly believe the truth.
Faye is my lover but that does not do her justice for she is much more than
that: she is my mentor, my muse, and my mistress.  And if that is not
enough let me tell you about Tracey. Tracey has been installed in my life
by Faye, who delights in my humiliation and degradation by Tracey.


Faye has conditioned me to worship not only her but also to be in thrall to
my 16 year niece.  She has maneuvered my emotions in an exquisitely subtle
way: rewarding me with affection when I gave signs of coming under Tracey's
spell, showing disappointment when I tried to draw back.  She was so clever
that I hardly realized what she was doing and I fell for her manipulation
hook, line and sinker.  The end result has been that, while I acknowledge
Faye as my over-arching controller, I am in love with Tracey like a young
girl with her first crush.  Tracey is perfect in my eyes, I live for her
presence, morsels of kindness that she might grant me, and accept her
regular mocking cruelty as she derides me for harboring my totally
inappropriate feelings for her.  And when I report my wretched accounts of
unrequited love to Faye I know that she becomes aroused, and she tells me
that I am her good girl.  Oh, to be Faye's good girl is the whole point of
my life and how painful it is that I can achieve that only through
supplication to Tracey, and accepting her disdain.


AFTER

The wedding was over an hour ago and I am sitting at the head table at the
end of the ballroom as the reception lunch gets under way.  My thoughts are
whirling at what has just happened.


I had risen early this morning, showered, and eaten a light breakfast.
Then back to my bedroom where the next hour was spent on make-up, teasing
my hair into the prettiest curls, and dressing in the simple elegant
rose-pink dress I had spent a fortune on.  All this alone - somewhat to my
surprise since I had thought that Faye would have wanted to help in
presenting her pet to perfection. Little had I guessed that Faye had a
different agenda for me.


Just when I was applying the final touches to my face there was a knock at
my bedroom door.  In came Tracey!  Without saying a word she presented me
with a single piece of notepaper on which was written: "Dearest.  You will
please me on this important day for you by letting Tracey have her way.
F."


My mouth fell open and I looked at Tracey.  She looked like a goddess, skin
glowing, eyes sparkling, ..., and a triumphant grin on her rouged lips.
Tracey, my queen, and my tormentor.  My heart's desire and my downfall.


Tracey stared at me with an impish malice.  She extended her hand to my
lips and, automatically, I kissed her fingers.  With a cruel little laugh
she spoke for the first time "My dyke aunt, does my dyke aunt Angela want
to kiss her Tracey's lips?".  My face flushed - Tracey could read my
thoughts.  Tears filled my eyes as I nodded.  I couldn't help myself so
powerfully did I desire and love my niece.


Tracey went through a pantomime of pretending to consider.  She cocked her
head as though to think about my shameful need for her and seemed to come
to a decision.  "Well, slutty Aunt, maybe, but you must give me ...".  I
waited with baited breath wondering what price I would have to pay and then
Tracey, that heartless minx, continued "...a bridegroom to fuck".


I can hardly believe what Tracey has just said.  She wants Rob?  Oh no,
it's not that - she wants to completely humiliate me and make me feel
worthless - just because I have an unbearable longing that I will do
anything to assuage.  What shall I say?  I look at Tracey again.  She is
perfect, unattainable, desirable, youthful - so beyond me, yet I know all
too well that Rob could not resist her if she was willing.  I can't do this
but, but... Maybe Tracey would accept my love if only I could bring myself
to grant her wish.  And I so want her love, I so want to show her my
devotion.


So I swallow and I whisper.  And the words I whisper are "Yes".


Tracey grins confidently, triumphantly and brings her lips to my ear.  Her
tongue flicks out and she licks the tip of my ear.  My knees turn to jelly
but then...  Then comes the shocking truth in her giggling whisper "I knew
you'd agree, Auntie Dyke, and so this morning I had him already - hmm, he
was quite a good fuck, but maybe I have improved him for you.  Aren't you
grateful, Aunt Angela.  Haven't I been so kind to you?".  Then with another
quick lick on my ear she is gone.


After that the wedding was an anti-climax.  I couldn't look Rob in the eye
nor could he meet my gaze.  I knew it was true.  My new husband is already
cheating on me and I have given the permission.  I feel so awful, so low,
so shamed.  But here now at the reception I turn to look towards Tracey.
There she is, looking so coy, so pretty, so sweet.  Oh maybe she will like
me now.  Surely she will after what I have sacrificed, won't she?  Won't
she?