Date: Sun, 4 Jan 2009 03:07:20 -0800 (PST)
From: Sharon Pinder <pin121@yahoo.com>
Subject: the new world 14

Warning:This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of
explicit sexual acts between women.  If this type of content offends you or
you are under the age of 18 do not read it.

Author's Note: This story is the property of the author. It can be
downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you
wish to re-post them at your


The New World
Part 14
(There was no part 13)

A French Connection

Anne looked every inch her forty six years. It was just her looks, she
dressed `older'.  Tweed suits were a large part of her limited wardrobe.
Her hair was worn in a bun, and many people speculated that she'd been born
with it in place, so permanently fixed it seemed. She'd never dated or
married and was happy to remain a spinster, dedicating her life to her
career. She had emerged from her years of education with top grades in her
exam results, and these had helped her secure a career within in one of the
city of Paris's top marketing management companies. Having inherited a tidy
sum when her parents passed on, she'd brought an exclusive two bed
apartment in the nicer districts of the city. There she had lived for ten
years plus, alone and quite content. Her days were run to a time table and
other residents could set their clocks by her departure for work. She knew
she was the butt of sniggered jokes at the office, but she didn't care. She
had an excellent income, was P.A to one of the senior partners, and
regularly put over twelve plus hour a day. Her friends were all but
nonexistent, but that's both they way she wanted and liked it.

Sex had never been a part of her life, and she had no desire for it to do
so now. She'd had one experience in her teens, and that had been a nasty,
dirty event.  Being top of her classes she had been bullied and shunned by
her class mates. The exception however was her friend Mary, who was her
equal in the class exams. Mary had brokered the friendship and they got on
reasonably well. Each day they would walk to and from school together,
discussing projects, homework etc. The "Nerds" was the name bestowed upon
them by the rest of the school, but it just made them become more insular.

Mary had been one of the first people at school to have their own car, a
present from Daddy after her Sixth Year Project on The Rain Forests had won
a much deserved prize. Their walks became drives, and as the whizzed past
their walking peers, they could smile and look down on their inferiors. It
was in the May of their last year that the school entered the Brain of
France Quiz scheme, and both of them were natural candidates for the team.
The opening rounds had gone well, and their team came out top of their
group. This resulted in their quarter final matches being played away, and
once again the Nerd Mobile was their mode of transport. They clinched
victory and won through to the semi finals and then the final. This was to
be held in one of Versailles Colleges and was the high light of the schools
year. The team travelled up by mini bus, minus the two nerds, who made
their own way in the Nerd Mobile. It was no real surprise that Anne and
Mary carried their team to victory, which in their opinion was "well
deserved". The cup was presented, and the evening was rounded off with a
buffet and drinks. Mary managed to secure two glasses of wine and they
sipped their illicit drinks and discussed how they had won the trophy
single handed.

The wine had gone to Anne's head and she failed to notice her friends
outrageous flirting. They wandered of to the washroom together, and it was
on the way back to the hall, that Mary had led her to a deserted class
room. The next half hour was to be a nightmare for naive Anne. She had
tried to flee the advices, but she found the class room door locked.  Mary
and a close friend in a rival team had forced them selves on the reeling
virgin. She had been pushed down onto the teacher's desk, Mary's warm and
moist panties forced as a gag into her mouth, her scream cut off by the
thin damp cotton. Their hands had reached under her skirt and torn her
panties away, their fingers had roughly explored her `private' parts. They
had forced their way into her, and her virginity had been broken.  She was
beyond protest as Mary's tongue lapped at her cunt, and her friend had
ridden her, the west moist pussy forced over Anne's face. The scent filling
her nostrils and being pulled deep down into her lungs. Tears had run down
her face as she sat on the desk, her T Shirt and bra array, her exposed
'titties' sore and scratched. Her panties discarded on the floor, her cunt
sore and abused.  Her two predators walking out of the class room laughing,
and not looking back. Their sport taken, their prey dismissed.

Anne had managed dress to some degree of respectability and had hitched a
ride back in the mini bus. The other passengers assuming she had drunk too
much of the wine and was intoxicated. That event had been her one and only
sexual experience. Never again did she harbour any interest in sex, and had
spurned any advances by the males who came and went in her work life. Her
tweed suits and bun serving as a shield, to warn sexual predators off, to
make her less appealing to them. No matter what sex. The experience was
blocked out of her mind and in time she would have denied, even to herself,
that it had ever happened. She focused her mind on her work and brought a
determination that made her both successful and unloved.

She had worked for Mr Howley as his P.A for over ten years, and it was with
some unease that Anne watched him reach 59 and retire. She knew her
position was secure, but she had no idea who would fill the vacant
partnership. She had never worked for a member of her own sex before, so it
was with some unease that she was introduced to her new boss, Madam Sharon
Straddon. Madam was at least ten years her junior and may have even been in
her mid twenties. She was the exact opposite to her P.A. Madam Straddon was
slim, long legged, dressed in the height of fashion, was always immaculate
in her turn out, used her sexuality and flirted to manipulate her
peers. When Madam Straddon entered a room she filled it with her
presence. When Anne walked in the wallpaper became her camouflage. But the
two worked well as a team, and as the weeks passed Anne formed a respect
for her new boss. She would work the 12 hour days she had before and
together they were formidable. The Bitch and her Labrador became the office
nick name for the new team.

The Kyle report was the companies' newest contract and it was only natural
that the Bitch and her Labrador should be handed it to oversee. It demanded
long hours, and was of a complexity that would have daunted to most. The
net value of the contract was 8,000,000 Euro and it would, if handled
correctly, secure the company a seven figure profit.

The deadline approached and they pulled fourteen hour plus days, but at the
stoke of midnight, the files were finished, the figures added, the I's
dotted and the T's crossed. They had achieved what some considered
impossible. Anne went home that night, smiling at what had been achieved,
and at the bonus she could now expect when the end of year profits were
calculated.

Despite the long day, Anne was in the next day on the chime of eight
a.m. She almost smiled to the security guard as she walked through the
foyer towards the lifts. This was a good day. The lifts doors slid shut and
as she rode up to the 52nd floor she smiled to herself. Life was perfect.

The floor was deserted, but Anne recalled that her colleagues had been
awarded a days leave in reward for their efforts. Anne had of course
spurned such a weakness and she knew the partners would notice her
dedication. She walked across the open plan office towards the door to her
domain. The door that opened onto her office, though which admission to
Madam Straddon's office had to be sought. She shut her door behind her and
hung her tweed coat on the hook, next to the leather coat her boss wore
every day to work. She tapped on the door to Madam Straddon's office and
marched in. She never waited for the permission to enter. Her boss was sat
at her Partners desk, the Kyle report open before her, that wasn't her
way. There was no trace of a smile on her bosses face, as she looked at the
spread sheets on her desk.

"Morning" Anne greeted her boss. The blonde haired head slowly raised
itself up from the report and looked across at her P.A. No trace of a
smile, no words of welcome, just a long cold stare. Anne's own smile
evaporated as she wondered what had happened to make her boss look so
pissed off. "Did you" Madam Straddon spoke in a soft slow voice that
carried a hint of malice "double check the figures on appendix A?"

Anne frowned and had to think which figures that appendix comprised
of. Then the penny dropped, "you mean the contract costs?" she asked. The
blonde hair nodded, no spoken words being further uttered. Anne felt her
blood freeze as she realised that she hadn't. She'd been told to more than
once, but, well the pressure and lack of time, she'd just not managed
it. "Do you know that you have cost the company 500,000 Euros in predicted
profits, simply by not doing as I told you to" with each word Madam
Straddon's voice increased a level.  Anne felt her face turn shades of red
as the sheer horror dawned on her. How could she have been so stupid? How
could she have not double checked the figures? Anne collapsed into the
chair that sat in front of the desk. "Stand the fuck up" Madam Stratton's
voice commanded at a decibel just below a demented scream. Anne sprung from
the chair, sheer terror coursing though her veins. Her world crumbled
before her, disgrace, dismissal, ridicule, maybe charges, all floated as
scenarios before her. She held back the tears, but her panties under her
expensive tweed skirt showed the first signs of her fear, as a small
trickle of warm wet urine soaked into the soft cotton fabric. Anne barely
noticed as her panties crutch became sodden with the piss of her fear. She
just stared at her boss.

Madam Straddon stood to face her P.A, and leant on the desk so she was
closer to her fear ridden P.A. "I have to report this to the other
Partners, who I know will want an escape goat. Who I know will want to
crucify someone, and that my little Tweed Nerd will be you, on that you
have my word". Her face showed no emotion, and the first tears started to
break down Anne's face. "Please, cant we... "She started to plead, but was
interrupted by her bosses taunt of "Can't we what? Change the report, alter
the figures, and cook the books?"  Hope rose inside Anne. Maybe that was
the answer? After all the report had yet to be published. It wasn't too
late, was it?  "Please Madam Straddon" Anne said, begging for the first
time in her 46 years. "Please couldn't we just change the figures, please"
Madam Straddon looked her dour spinster victim up and down, smiling to
herself that things had gone better than planned. That a simple amendment
to this one private copy of the report was playing dividends, she could
feel the flies first struggles as it sensed it was caught in a spiders
sticky web. All other copies of the report where correct and flawless, but
her terror stricken victim was to horror struck to think clearly. Her mind
was in a state of panic that brooked no logic that just submitted itself to
what it had been told.

"Maybe I could" Madam Straddon said slowly as if thinking slowly, "maybe,
but why should I?" she asked. Anne felt as if someone had thrown her a life
jacket, as she was being swept down a torrential river.  "Please" she
begged, her make up tear stained, "please" she begged, "I'd do anything,
please" she spoke the words that slammed the door to her cage shut. She
muttered those immortal words that gave her to Madam Straddon. Words that
sealed her fate.

As Anne begged again her Madam walked round the desk and sat on the desks
surface, her long legs swinging slowly. "Anything?" she asked as with her
left foot she flicked her right foots high heal off. Then she repeated the
action with her right foot as she once again asked "anything?"

Anne world had crumbled, and even though the pleading had been spoken
unthinking, it was meant. "Yes" she quietly murmured, the tear stains on
her face drying to leave long steaks in her makeup. "Yes" she repeated, her
eyes cast down.

"Prove it, kneel and" a pause, then "suck my toes" Madam Straddon's voice
carried an authority, that seemed to brook no denial. Anne paused, her mind
reeling at the images and memories such a command brought to the fore front
of her mind. That time in the class room when she had been `taken' by two
Dykes had been a buried memory, one even she had forgotten. Now the doors
were unlocked, and it all came tumbling to the fore. She felt her heart
break, and the tears run from her cheeks. She weighed her fate in the
balance. To deny the command would leave her exposed to all that could be
heaped on her by her boss. The humiliation, loss of status, loss of career,
the jokes that she would be unable to avoid, and worse, the threat of legal
action. The safe world she had so carefully constructed over the years
since that night at Mary's hands, would be shattered, ruined,
destroyed. She could not imagine her life without it being how she had
built it. To submit, to kneel and kiss the toes would surely not be too
bad. That may be Madams only command. Why should Anne assume the worst, it
may just be a simple one off humiliation to show her contrition. Then they
would work to repair the damage, and her life would resume its course. As
she thought she knew she had not choice as one course was beyond her
handling and the other would not be so bad. As the conclusion came into
being the command was barked once more "kneel and suck my toes".

The tears started once more, as she bent her knees and dropped to kneel. A
smile of pure satisfaction passed over Madam's face as she saw her slave
set her first hesitant path on the road to servitude. A path she had so
carefully worked to have in place for her P.A, when the right ammunition
was offered to her.

Anne knelt, her tweed skirt rising above her knees, and with her right hand
she reached out for the proffered foot. As her hand cupped the nylon
encased limb, she felt her tears well up as she silently cried at the
humiliation and shame. The scent of the nylon and leather encased foot
filled her own senses as she brought the foot to her mouth. She could se
Madams perfect red painted nails through the mesh, and the high heel that
had until a few minutes ago had cocooned the foot, lay on the floor. Her
mind reeled at the action she had been ordered to undertake, the
punishment. Yes that was it; this was just a simple form of punishment to
allow her to show her contrition. She leant her head in towards the sweat
scented foot, and parted her lips.  This wouldn't be so bad, as the aroma
of sweaty foot wrapped itself round her. Her mouth opened to admit the
foot, and she felt the nylon caress her lips as the foot entered her
proffered mouth. She saw the red meshed nails pass into her mouth and she
closed her lips over the foot. She felt herself gagging as the scent now
filled every part of her awareness. She sucked on the nylon and her tongue
ran its tip along the outline of Madam's toes in the mesh. As she sucked,
she drew the sweaty scent down into herself, and with that scent went her
freedom.

Madam pushed the stocking toe into her slut's mouth, "Suck my foot you
whore" her voice gave no room for refusal as Anne sucked on the stocking
meshed toes, and as she worshipped, Madam laughed. The little old bitch,
the bitch old enough to be her own mother was hers to do with as she
pleased. The camera she had set up earlier whirled away, and with each
second assured that the sub would submit no matter what. The bitch was
close so close to being hers for today, tomorrow and for as long as she
wanted her

Anne mouth was filled with the taste of Madam's foot and with each working
of her tongue she felt a tiny piece of her heart break.  As she sucked she
looked up to seek pity on the foot owner's face. Some sign that all was
forgiven, but all she saw was a smile, one of pure lust.  Her eyes travel
down Madams body and as she her eyes looked up on the two stocking clad
knees, she was shocked to see them part. A dark tunnel appeared between the
two nylon coated legs, a dark tunnel that widened as the legs parted. Anne
wanted to look away, but she was trapped like a deer in car head
lights. She knew what was coming, but she couldn't draw her eyes away. Her
mouth filled with a stocking foot, her eyes sought the depth of the tunnel,
to see what lurked there. As those legs parted Madam pulled her skirt
further up her legs, revealing more of the stockings and the perfect legs
enclosed with in them. Anne eyes looked on as the legs parted as far as the
skirts hem would permit. But she could see that Madam wore no panties, nor
that she was hairy. She could see a smooth mound and a damp patch on the
fabric of the skirt on which Madam sat.

Anne eyes looked on, feasting on the sight before her, and her tears
stopped. She still felt the shame and humiliation, but a new sensation was
added to the feelings coursing through her. Her mind sought to deny it but
her stomach was filled with butterflies of anticipation, of desire. Her
damp piss stained panties took on a fresh dampness, as the first small
signs of arousal showed. In over thirty years sex had been taboo to her,
something dirty, shameful disgusting. She had shunned it, and in those
years she had lived almost as a nun. Her hands never having the desire or
need to seek the pleasures she denied herself. But now feelings she could
not control seemed to grow with in her.  As she looked on Madam thrust her
mound forward, allowing the merest glimpse of her moist lips
appearing. Anne eyes feasted on the moist skin before her, and her foot
worship became an act of adoration rather than punishment.

Madam withdrew her foot from Anne mouth, and wound her right hand into her
slave's bun. With gentle but firm guidance she drew the awed eyes closer to
her wet pussy. As Anne was guided in between those thighs, new odours
assaulted her senses of smell. A musk that excited her, and turned that
leak which had seeped into the wet gusset of her panties, into a small
flood. As the vision wet glistening skin filled her eyes, part of her
wanted to flee at what she knew would happen next. Part of her told her
that nothing inflicted on her if she ran from the room would be worse than
this. She would still have her dignity, her pride, but as these thoughts
entered her mind, her tongue snaked out from her lips, in anticipation of
the nectar that awaited her.

The musk of Madams arousal became Anne entire world as her tongue came to
with in millimetres of the wet lips which were now visible as Madam slid
her mound further forward. "Kiss me there darling" she bid her slave, in a
mock act of love. Anne final resolve melted as her tongue finally reached
the wetness. She ran the tip along the moisture, and could feel the first
tingling as the honey coated her tongue. She had no concept of what was
expected of her, but she drew on those old memories to try and please
Madam. She sucked a portion of enflamed lip between her lips and sucked
into her own wet mouth. She felt the groin ease further forward towards her
and a moan escaped between Madam's lips. A moan of ecstasy as he watched
her slave sink further into the new life that awaited her.

Her hands twisted Anne hair and the band holding the bun gave way. The long
hair tumbled free, but Anne was unaware of its release. She felt her hair
being twisted at their roots, but she could not stop suckling on the wet
fold of skin that was between her own lipstick coated lips. She could not
stop drinking on the honey that flooded into her mouth. She felt Madams
hips buck and then she felt the honey become a torrent. She heard her
Madams moans became louder and she felt her entire pussy rise of the sofa
as she climaxed. The hands held her face in place as that torrent filled
slave's nostrils and mouth. When Madam's wild movements finally eased, Anne
face was released. She withdrew herself from between those thighs, her face
shinny with honey juices. Her mouth full of her Madam's scent. But as she
withdrew humiliation returned to replace the arousal that had been
there. She stumbled back on her knees, a moan of horror escaping her
lips. How had she permitted this to happen, she was no more than a whore or
dyke? She had to escape this insane woman. As she made to stand, Madams
right hand took the crown of her head and gently rotated Anne so she could
see the P.C monitor. Anne eyes expanded as she saw herself on the screen;
saw a replay of her foot worship and of her drinking from the font of her
Madam. In that moment the remains of Anne world crumbled she dropped back
onto her knees, knowing that any chance of fleeing was now gone for
ever. Run away now and she knew that recording would be played in ways that
would make her unable to face the world.

Her shoulders slumped as her Madam looked down at her new toy. "Your mine,
mine to do with as I wish, as I dicate" the cold chilling voice informed
her. Anne bowed further in a submission of surrender. "Now stand before me,
so I can see my new slave" she was commanded. As Anne lifted herself of her
knees the words ran through her mind like a loop of tape, "slave".  The
terror returned, her arousal a forgotten memory, her knees trembled and the
wetness was replaced. Madam looked on as stains of different moisture
slowly leaked down slaves tights. Turning the skin flesh a shade darker,
and matched by fresh tears. Her slave stood there, make up ruined by tears,
her hair a tangled mess and her tights stained in her warm wet piss of
fear. Slave's shoulders shock as the first sob escaped her lips, and with
that sob, the piss started to puddle onto the floor in a small lake. A lake
of humiliation, of servitude and of her new status in life.

Laughter assaulted her ears and as she looked though her tears she could
see Madam was laughing at her. As she looked on a hand sprung out and she
felt the slap of a smack as it stung her face. "Stop that crying cunt"
Madam's voice commanded her whore. The sting of that smack lingered as
slave sucked back her tears, and fought to stop the crying. "Better. Now
strip my precious, I want to see what pleasures, if any you can offer me."

Her hands shock as slave removed her thick tweed jacket. The tweed suit
that had always been a badge of her seriousness, of her brooking no denial
in the work place. That had marked her as a cold hearted career woman, a
veneer that Madam had seen to be so thin, and one that could be easily
broken. The crumpled tweed jacket feel to the floor and her calf length
skirt followed in be discarded, as she stepped out of it. Slave stood
there, in fresh piss stained skin toned pantyhose. The tears of her piss
ran down the mesh in small streams to form into a small lake at her
feet. Her `sensible' flat shoes had long fallen of her own sweaty
feet. Under the tights she wore a pair of white cotton briefs, this equally
stained in her humiliation. A humiliation she sought to cover with her
hands as they shielded the wetness from Madam's site. Above the pantyhose
waist bad was a flat tummy which was toped by an equally unflattering
matching bra. Her figure belied her image of cold hearted and Madams guess
had been right. Under the dour image lay a body that could easily be
moulded and dressed to make it one of desire. One that she knew her
contacts in Quadi would welcome into the fold once she had enjoyed the
fruits of her virgin whore, sub, slave. Call her what she wished, Anne was
no longer an independent person. She only existed to serve, to serve her
mistress. A fact that aroused similar feelings in both the occupants of
that moment, feelings that stirred and excited both. But that in one
mingled with fear.

I seem unable to wind this tale to an end so maybe here is a good place as
Anne stands there vulnerable and ready to descend into the pit of
servitude. There is more to come, so bear with me, it won't be long. Enjoy
and as ever feed back most welcome.

To my two subs, Anne this is for you as your emails pleases and excites
me. You are a beautiful French woman, whose emails are ones to inspire and
I look forward to many more exchanges.  To Lauren, you have disappointed
me, I grant you're eager to serve, but pay more attention and do as I
command and maybe we can come to a contract of servitude. One that will
help you learn your place in life. Maybe?

Mistress Sharon