Date: Thu,  5 Oct 2006 04:47:00 -0700
From: bahee <bahee@telus.net>
Subject: Brianne A-new-year

Several readers have asked - this is not an autobiography but a fictionalized
account taken from my own journals.
All the events are true, they happened. Maybe not quite in the way or order
described, but they happened.
Bahee


All too soon it was Labour Day and school was back in session. Sam and I
were still going to school together but it was a new school this year. What
a difference.  We were still in the public school system but we were
attending an "alternate school".  I wasn't sure what that meant but soon
found out. Some things were obvious.  There were the Goths, the ones into
heavy piercings, the tattoos. There were gays and lesbians and even a few
straights. The great thing was that everyone could be themselves, not
matter what that "self" was. Even the geeks could be geeks. It wasn't all
peaches and cream. There were all the normal adolescent growing pains; the
strain of making new friends; the forming of relationships; the jealousies;
but on the whole school was basically now a happy, accepting place.

By the end of the first month I found myself a member of a group of girls
that accepted me as one of themselves. They all knew I was a TV - I was
even learning the jargon. Their tolerance, acceptance of me was helping me
to be accepting. At the beginning of the summer at the time of the first
"outing" I was very anti anything that could be remotely considered
"male". Jeans were out, I wanted to wear nothing but dresses and
skirts. Even the shorts I lusted over did not get much wear. But as my new
friends were teaching me, jeans could be very feminine and could be
comfortable.

At home even Jen was accepting the fact that she now had a sister, she even
seemed to be enjoying the situation. He early days of summer had been very
tense for both of us. There had been periods of coolness but by now we were
getting close again. Jen was able to tell me of her early feelings of
betrayal when I first came out. Now she was enjoying the role of elder
sister teaching me to appreciate the latest fashions, how to apply my
make-up, even boy-talk.

Sex was, and still is, a source of confusion. I was convinced that I was a
girl. I enjoyed talking about boys with my new girl friends. Like them I
lusted after the hot ones at school. I loved fucking with Sam. She was also
living full time as a girl, but she still found time to slip her clit into
my cunt just about every day. I still had a cock between my legs. I might
call it my clitty but at times it was still a cock and I liked to stroke
it, to make it spurt, to put it into Sam's cunt and fuck her. Was I gay? I
drooled over the school hot boys. I dreamed about going to bed with them,
of being their girl. Was I lesbian?  I was a girl but found myself
attracted to other girls. I wanted to be with them, to kiss and cuddle, to
go to bed with them. Even today, several years on, the questions have not
all been answered, the feelings resolved.

My relationship with Sam changed as the term progressed. Grade 12s don't
really have a lot in common with grade10s. We were not exactly growing
apart. We were each making friends in our own grades. In many ways the only
thing we had in common was our need for sex. Although I enjoyed fucking Sam
I was much more interested in being fucked. I dreamed of the day when I
would have a boy friend. Someone who would fuck me 10 times a day and then
again at night. I fantasized about the boy's locker room after a basketball
game. Going there in a cheer leaders uniform. Sucking off each member of
the team. Being fucked by each one of them. To have their cum dripping out
of my mouth, out of my cunt. It never happened but reading my journal
entries today brings it all back and the longing is still as strong as
ever.

My relationship with Sue was growing. We watched several videos that her
clients had made. I found some of the things the clients wanted to be
weird, even gross, but some of the sessions were real turn-ons. As Sue
explained, and I came to understand, why they wanted the things they did I
saw even the grossest requests in a different light. The activities were
not something that would give me any pleasure but they helped the client
and, as Sue said, they paid well.

During the fall I found myself visiting Sue two or three times a week,
often when Sam was not around. I just wanted to be with her, be around
her. I wanted to do things for her. I pottered around the kitchen, putting
things away, washing up each dish or cup as it was used. Looking back on
those days I was acting like a little puppy. One evening Sue showed a
video, not of a session, of a guy dressed as a maid working around a house.
He was not very good at his job and everytime he did something wrong he was
punished with a good spanking. I found myself being turned on by the whole
scene. My clitty was getting hard.

"You enjoyed that one, didn't you?"

"Yeah, it was pretty cool. He sure didn't learn very quickly."

"Do you think you'd have done a better job?"

"Oh yeah, I could have done all that without any spankings. She would not
have found anything wrong with my work. I could be the perfect maid."

"You think so, do you? I see you've been doing lots of little things around
here. Would you like to try out as my maid and learn how to do things
properly?"

I swear my heart skipped more than a few beats. "Do you really mean that?
Do you mean I could be your maid, just like in the videos?"

"That would be the general idea.'

"Could I wear a uniform, just like he did." I could harldy contain my
excitement. My clitty was as hard a rock. My arse was twitching at the
thought of Sue giving me a spanking. I could hardly sit still.

"Look here, my dear, this would not be a game. I'm serious and you would
have to be too.  There would be rules for you to follow and there would be
real punishment if you broke them. Spankings and other punishments would
not be play things, they would really hurt.  You'd have to do exactly as
you were told, no ifs ands or buts. The only thing is you'd not have
anything to do with downstairs. Do you think you can do it?"

"No sweat. It'll be real cool. When do we start?"

"I want you to think this over very carefully and make sure you really want
to do it. To give you some help, I notice the kitchen counter is untidy. My
maid would not let that happen. You will be punished. Stand up and take
your jeans off."

As I stood up Sue also got up and left the room. By the time I had my jeans
off she returned with a paddle. "God, what a miserable looking
specimen. That's no way to wait for your mistress. Feet apart, wide
apart. Hands behind your neck. Come on, snap to it."

This was a very different Sue to the one I had been used to. Many was the
time I had been naked around Sue, just doing normal everyday things. She
had seen me with and without an erection. She had seen me fucking with
Sam. Apart from my first one or two visits I had become completely
comfortable around Sue no matter what my state of dress or undress, but
now, standing in the middle of the room, feet wide apart, hands behind my
neck dressed in a pair of panties and a crop top, I felt embarrassed,
exposed, completely vulnerable in a way I never had before. I felt like the
naughty little girl that I was. I was scared of the punishment that I knew
was coming yet wanting it. Sue took a cushion and laid it on the edge of
the kitchen table.

"Come here." I walked over to the kitchen. "Hold out your hands." She
opened a drawer and took out a couple of wrist cuffs. I had seen enough
videos by now to know what they were for. "Lean over the table. Come on,
flat on your tummy. Stretch out your arms." Some rope from the same drawer
and I was quickly tied, stretched out, to the table. I felt Sue behind
me. A hand was caressing my bum. Round and round. First one cheek and then
the other. A finger was stroking my crack. Then smack, smack.  Two smart
swats, one on each cheek. Jesus that stung. Then the gentle stroking was
back. Whew that was better. Whack, another swat. Some stroking. Then whack,
whack, whack. This was really beginning to hurt. I could not stop myself.

"Ouch, that fucking hurts."

"Punishment is supposed to hurt, and count on a couple of extras for
swearing.  We've not even started yet." Sue hooked her fingers into my
panties and pulled them down to my knees. "Hmmm. Not bad, even if I say so
myself. A pretty shade of pink, but I think you need a good red arse before
you go home tonight."

There was a swish and a crack. I screamed. That was no hand. That hurt.

"Your punishment tonight is six of those. After each one you will say out
loud the number, you will say `thank you miss Sue, may I have one more'. If
you get the count wrong or the words wrong we will start over. Do you
understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes miss Sue."

"Good. We'll start now. Are you ready?"

"Yes miss Sue."

I'm not going to yell, I'm not going to scream, I'm not going to cry. It's
a game.  She won't hurt me that badly. I can take it. Swish, whack. Jesus
christ. Every breath left my body.

"And?"

I remembered. "One. Thank you miss Sue. May I have another?" But not like
that one I nearly said out loud.

Crack, my other cheek was burning. My eyes were watering. I was not going
to give in. As I caught my breath, "two. Thank you miss Sue. May I have
another?"

Three and I was yelling and crying quietly, sort of.  Four and it fucking
hurt like hell, I was yelling and crying out loud.  Five and I was pleading
now. No more please.  Six and it was all over at last.

"Well, if you really insist."

God she conned me. Number seven was the worst.

"Now for swearing, two more. I do not like foul mouthed little girls,
especially if they are going to be my maid. I hope never to hear you swear
again."

Two more swats. I thought I was going to die. No pretence now. I yelled, I
cried as I had never cried before in my life. Sue untied my hands. She
helped me to stand up. My legs were shaking, I could hardly stand. She
hugged me close. I clung to her, burying my head into her neck. Gradually I
calmed down.

"OK, get dressed. Go and wash your face and come back here."

I did as I was told. In the bathroom I took a look at my arse in the
mirror. It was red, hot and sore. My make-up was a mess. I washed most of
it off. Pulling on my jeans was painful - why hadn't I worn a skirt or
dress tonight. I went back to the living room.

"How are you feeling?"

"Pretty goddam sore."

"You're not a very fast learner, are you? What happened the last time you
swore in front of me?"

"I'm sorry."

"Well, I'm going to ignore it this time, but it really is the last time. No
more swearing. Now, you're going to have a sore bum for a few days, which
will remind you of tonight. If you become my maid then you can expect such
things to happen pretty regularly. I want you think very seriously about
this for the next couple of days. You are to come back here at 6 o'clock on
Friday evening and not before. At that time you can give me your
decision. Will you be alright going home, or do you want me to walk you
home?"

"I'll be fine, but really I know what ...."

"No, this is not the time. No more talking tonight. Go. Come back on
Friday."