Date: Wed, 22 Oct 2003 09:56:48 -0700 (PDT) From: Sandra <tamassandra@yahoo.com> Subject: Tamara's Induction: Part 1 Tamara's Induction: Part I By Sandra Tamino (tamassandra@yahoo.com) Disclaimer: This is a fictionalized account, not for minors or anyone repulsed by lesbian sadomasochism or forbidden relations. Feedback welcome. What I am about to describe happened 20 years ago, but it has retained an extraordinary vividness in my mind and marked a turning point in my life. First, let me describe myself and my situation now. I'm 34, single, and have just started a committed relationship with a Mistress. My lovers have told me I'm pretty, with my long blonde hair, grey eyes, taut figure: my breasts are full and firm still, my waist narrow, my thighs very strong. I do keep fit with swimming and consequently have rather broad shoulders and powerful arms, though still very very feminine. I'm also fairly tall for a woman at 5'10'', and I love to dress up. I'm known at work for my elegant wardrobe which I keep just this side of outrageously sexy. It drives the men crazy: which is perfectly fine with me since I am not attracted to them in the least. I've kept my pussy shaved since my teenage years; my labia and clitoris are rather large and exquisitely sensitive: there are times when I so sorely wish I could lick myself that it's painful. I love to read and read voraciously and am far more turned on by erotic stories than videos, though occasionally the sight of beautiful lesbian sluts torturing and pleasuring on film each other is irresistibly tantalizing, despite the typically awful musical soundtrack. Well, you know how it is when the mood seizes you.... you'll forgive anything. I'd been in several `exclusive' relationships which all died of inertia but ended amicably enough, and I'd finally decided to follow my bliss and give myself over totally and fully to my irrepressible submissive inclinations. My Mistress is very beautiful, and very demanding, and very stingy with her time, but I have never felt as liberated or alive as when we have an encounter. I have been given careful instructions by Her: She is addressed by me only as Mistress. She calls me anything she wishes, of course. I am permitted to have no relations with anyone else -- including myself: she forbids masturbation altogether, as well as any form of cybersex. All of my sensual yearnings must be directed at, and fulfilled by Her. We meet twice a month for an evening and a day.... I burn for our meetings, and explode during them, reveling in her brutally divine mastery of me. But this account is not about now, it's about then, a time in my teenage past when I was given a glimpse of a sweet depravity that has guided me since. I was 14 years old at the time, awkwardly tall for my age, but cute. My mom had raised me as a single parent ever since my dad left when I was 3, and she never remarried, never even bothered to bother with men afterwards. She was 38 at the time, still very attractive, and very attached to her older sister Marisa who was in a similar situation. Her husband had bailed out a year after they had adopted a Latin American baby, my cousin Caroline. Caroline was three years older than I, very dark-skinned, with lustrous black hair, dark eyes, full sensual lips: in short, a sultry knock-out. She was also very smart and setting out to look at ivy league colleges. Marisa and Caroline lived in Berkeley while Mom and I were on the East Coast. Nonetheless we kept in close touch, visiting each other's families at least once yearly for the holidays, taking turns with traveling. This year my Mom and Marisa struck up a deal: Caroline would stay with Mom for a few weeks and use our home as a base to check out colleges in the East, while I would spend time with Marisa at Berkeley, to be broadened by a different culture. Then the plan was for me to return and have a week with my cousin at home before she traveled back to California. I was thrilled to be going West and to be staying with my aunt who was always very very cool in everything she did. Aunt Marisa greeted me very warmly upon my arrival and made me feel so very comfortable. We talked of everything, she was interested in all that my young life had brought me to and I, flattered by such interest, felt a wonderfully grateful affection for her, and confided all. I told her of my confusion about sex, especially about how I just didn't seem interested in boys: they were so predictably narcissistic, boastful, crude, uninteresting. Marisa -- she ordered me to drop the `Aunt' -- told me of her disgust with men generally after her marriage had fallen apart, and how happy and fulfilled she was with raising her daughter, pursuing her career (a professor at UCB, no less) and socializing with friends, all women, several of whom were very dear to her. It was the beginning of August, the weather was lovely, and we went on day trips around the Bay Area and generally lounged around. Her beauty was growing on me: she was tan, fit and ravishing, a slender dirty blonde of medium height, with dark intelligent eyes, and as I gazed into them I began to feel ... strangely moved, unconscionably aroused, terribly guilty for having such sensations for my aunt, for my mother's sister, even though I kept them to myself. It was disturbing, confusing, overwhelming. On Friday night, after a relaxed week, Marisa poured herself a glass of wine and nestled into the sofa next to me. She had a light short cotton dress on, no bra, and had kicked off her Birkenstocks. I felt uncomfortable, scarcely able to avert my eyes from the compelling vision of her nipples beneath the thin surface of the dress, and Marisa sensed that something was awry. "Tami, dear," she said soothingly, placing her hand on my arm, "is anything wrong?" Her touch thrilled me and I gulped. "Aunt Mari," I replied, "I'm not sure .... I don't know what to say." "Marisa, sweetie -- did you forget? -- or Mari," she interjected, "but let's do away with these artificial titles." "OK, Marisa," I said, hesitating. "I think," I began, taking a deep breath, "that ... that..." Marisa moved closer to me and I thought I would faint. She put her arm around me and drew her face close to mine. "Go ahead, darling, it's alright." "I'm ... I'm .... Very attracted to you." There. I had said it, and was immensely relieved, if completely red in the face from blushing. "Please don't hate me for this!" I pleaded. "Tami dear! Is that all that's bothering you?" She chuckled. "There's nothing wrong with that! Come here, darling." She folded her arms around me and I melted into them. I could smell the fragrance of her neck and feel the dim pressure of her nipples against me and I began to sense a thrill in my pussy. "Now, Tami dear, it's my turn to confess." She waited for me to meet her eyes. "I feel tremendously attracted to you," she whispered. "You're very beautiful and very sexy, my darling." She paused. "And I want you," she continued, lowering her voice and gazing meaningfully at me. Her beautiful face approached and I closed my eyes. My heart began to race and my cunt started to seep with moisture. Could this really be happening? Could I really be engaging in something so forbidden, could I really be kissing my mother's sister while her supple hands caressed my budding breasts? We kissed long and deeply. At first I responded shyly, but then as Marisa pulled and sucked and bit on my lips, as she thrust her tongue deep into my mouth, I grew bolder. I returned her kisses with fervor, losing myself, and I let my hands roam over her smooth body, which quickened at my touch. After what seemed like an ecstatic eternity of desultory sensual exploration, Marisa pulled me to me feet. Taking my face in her capable hands, she looked me in the eyes and said: "This is just between you and me, Tami, you and me, understand?" I nodded. She took my hand and led me to her bedroom. My breathing was rapid and my young body was bursting and tingling with sensual excitement. Aside from a few awkward kisses with boys, I had never approached anything like sensual intimacy with anyone. Even in masturbation I was constrained, guilty, ashamed, embarrassed by my `les' leanings. Her bedroom was large and inviting and I felt suffused by the warmth of sensual arousal and anticipation. Marisa's adult body made me speechless with lust: I longed to do ... just about everything, and in no apparent order! I guess at that moment most of all I wanted to take her luscious nipples into my mouth first....but I was startled by Marisa: "Take those fucking clothes off, bitch!" she uttered sternly. The change in her tone of voice unsettled, but aroused me further. I looked at her, my mouth agape, my body motionless. She quickly ripped apart the buttons of my silk blouse. "What is it you don't understand, Tami?" she questioned. "I.....I...." but I couldn't continue because Marisa had pulled my head back suddenly and brought me to my knees. "No-one gave you permission to speak, you little slut," she hissed. "Now stay there on your knees and don't move," she commanded. I was growing dizzy with confusion. My breasts were exposed and I trembled with a mixture of soaring sexual excitement and fear. Marisa moved to the phone: she had reached my mother! I overheard snatches of the conversation...."We're having a great time.... A few little problems.... Yes .... Discipline .... It's my obligation.... You'd do the same for Caroline, I'm sure...." Then she returned to tower over my paltry form. "Let's try this again, cunt. Strip for me." I silently obeyed. First I removed my blouse. My nipples were erect, my small breasts jutted out obscenely. I tried to slide my jeans off without being awkward but it was impossible. Then as I went to pull off my panties Marisa stayed my hand. She pushed me to the carpet face first and roughly yanked them off for me. "You're not being very cooperative, slut. In fact, you're downright naughty. And we know what happens to naughty little bitches, don't we?" I said nothing. She grabbed my hair and led me to my feet and pulled me over to the bed. She sat on its edge and forced me over her lap. "What a lovely little ass my niece has!" she exclaimed. SMACK! "Oh," I whimpered, not expecting such force. "I thought I told you to be quiet!" She yanked on my hair with her left hand, and she brought her right hand down hard on my ass again: SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! It burned and tingled and sent thrills through me, and she continued, but it grew to hurt and small tears began to form in my eyes. "What is it, slut, does it hurt?" she asked. I nodded. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Do you want me to stop?" I nodded again, with vigor. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Are you sure?" she inquired again. I nodded. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! My buttocks were aflame -- but so was my tender dripping pussy. I shook my head, slowly. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I began to writhe and to breathe heavily. Marisa arose and in a flash slipped out of her own dress. I devoured her beautiful goddess-like body with my youthful eyes. She had me kneel on the floor and lay my upper body on the bed. And then I felt the moist loveliness of her tongue and lips as they kissed my back, moved down my spine, and caressed my reddened buttocks with their warm wet tendernesses. She spread my cheeks and with exquisite deftness drew her tongue along the rim of my rosebud. I was enthralled and entranced by this wholly new sensation, by this completely unexpected turn of events, by Marisa's wickedly effective seduction of me, her beloved niece. As her tongue gently pushed its way into my nether channel I sighed and yearned to please her. She suddenly stopped and turned me around and hefted me onto the bed, my legs splayed open. She gave to my mouth her elegant hand to kiss and lick, and I did so greedily, gratefully. Then, kneeling before me, before my scented cunt, she brought that spittle-coated hand down hard on my sensitive pink pussy lips. My ass leapt upwards. She kissed my sopping cunt very lightly, and then she slapped it hard again and again I jumped. She repeated this, over and over, each smack, each slap growing harder, sharper, more vicious, and I began to heave with the incipient rumblings of an orgasm .... Yet before I could be relieved she stepped away, suddenly, eyeing her heaving panting slave. "Don't you dare come, cunt" she whispered in her sweetest voice, "without your Mistress's permission." "You've got quite a lot to learn, Tami, and I have so little time with you", she continued. "You may speak now, but your words will be limited to `yes,' `please,' `thank you,' and `Mistress.'" "Thank you, Mistress," I replied. She drew me to my feet by my swollen nipples and kissed me full on the lips. "Your Mistress's cunt needs tending, Tami. Have you ever licked pussy before?" she asked. "No, Mistress," I responded. She twisted and pinched my nipples so hard I fell to my knees. " `No' isn't in your vocabulary, slut, remember?" "Yes, Mistress," I responded dreamily, and before I knew it she lay back on the floor pulling my eager mouth towards her magnificent cunt, my first taste of a woman, my heavenly introduction to a sweetness beyond imagining. The rougher she forced me upon her the more I reveled in my wantonness and in the forbidden pleasuring of this goddess-like aunt. She came like an animal and my face was streaming with her juices and I was bursting to come myself. "Please, Mistress," I pleaded. "Please what, slut?" "Please," I implored, spreading my legs. She spat in my face. "You have to learn to be patient, slut," she said imperiously. And with that she led me back to the bed. (to be continued)