On Friday, Geoff dressed up again as Tania. He tried to think himself into the rôle. As he admired his woman’s face in the mirror and pulled up the pretty, but very tight control briefs he had bought to suppress his manhood, he started to invent an imaginary history for Tania.
‘You’re to wash your hands before dinner. Follow me.’
Tania’s tight skirt made her take steps as small as those enforced by Zoë’s chains. She followed Zoë to a luxurious bathroom.
‘I need to go. Could you . . .’
‘Mistress says I have to watch you all the time,’ whispered Zoë, blushing nevertheless.
It was humiliating to squat with this lovely girl looking on. Tania tried her best to conceal Geoff from view. Zoë looked on silently as Tania went to the toilet and then washed. Then Tania followed the pretty, naked slavegirl to a huge dining room.
The scene was bizarre to say the least. Mr Prentice sat at the head of a long table, which was set already with plates and cutlery. His wife faced him at the other end. She looked up as Zoë and Tania entered. Facing one side of the table sat one man in his forties and two big women of indeterminate age. Only the man was naked. His wrists were chained. There were two spare seats at Mrs Prentice’s end next to the isolated male. Facing them, the other diners were also female, all naked and chained in the same fashion as the man and Zoë. Next to Mr Prentice was a tall slender girl with raven hair and the face and figure of a fashion model. The next woman was much older. Her large breasts sagged slightly and her neck announced her as middle aged. Next to her was another pretty but plump young girl ─ buxom one might say ─ with short mousy hair. Zoë took her place next to this girl. A rather ugly middle-aged woman was serving soup to the assembled party dressed in a maid’s uniform.
Tania stood there, awaiting instructions.
‘Sit here next to me, Tania. Betty, you sit between her and Colin,’ said Mrs P. ‘Betty is a pathetic transvestite like you, Tania. And she is my slave,’ she announced.
Tania sat down awkwardly and looked at the others around the table. Betty served her some soup and squeezed in next to her. The soup was a delicious watercress and asparagus. After Betty had cleared away the soup plates, served the main course of salmon and broccoli and rejoined the eaters at table, Mr Prentice eventually spoke.
‘Allow me to introduce Tania Hyde, our newest author: my wife’s latest acquisition.’ He emphasized the last word. ‘This is Emma Willcock. She also belongs to my wife.’ He chucked the black haired beauty under the chin. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Yes, Master. Hallo, Tania.’ She smiled timidly. She had a pronounced Welsh accent.
‘And this is Charlotte O’Kane, one of our most prolific and best selling authors. She belongs to me as does Chloe, next to her, and Colin Masterson, next to you.’
The two big women were introduced as Gloria Ash and Mary De Sade. Mr Prentice explained the spare setting by saying that Tony, his best photographer might join them later.
Dinner finished, Zoë helped Betty clear the table and served brandy and coffee to everyone.
‘Have you finished my letters, Tania?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’
‘Why didn’t you bring them for signature, then, you idle slut? And don’t think I haven’t noticed the filthy stain on the new skirt I gave you. Stand!’
Nervously, Tania pushed her chair back and stood up, smoothing down her skirt and hoping the patch had dried.
‘What do slags like you deserve?’
‘Please don’t beat me, Mistress.’
‘Get over the chair.’
Tania knew she had no choice. She pulled her chair clear on the table and leant over its back, placing her hands on the seat.
‘Pull her skirt up and knickers down, Colin,’ ordered Mr P, ‘and then come here.’
Tania’s blush burned like fire. Everyone would see her shame now. Everyone would see Geoff, who was already growing hard again.
Tania wept as much from shame as from the pain, as Mrs Prentice handed out ten strokes of the cane.
‘Thank you, Mistress,’ she sobbed, rising, getting ready to kneel and kiss Mistress’s feet for being so lenient.
‘Get back in place, Bitch.’
Tania bent again, regretting her premature optimism. Please no more, she silently prayed.
During her short moment of uprightness, Tania had seen that Colin was kneeling between his master naked knees.
‘That’s enough, Colin. I’m ready now.’ It was Mr P’s voice.
Tania waited for the crop but, instead, he felt something warm and wet and hard push between the cheeks of his sore backside.
‘Nooooooooooo!’ she screamed as she realized what was happening. Her No turned into a scream of agony as Mr P’s huge organ pressed relentlessly into Tania’s arse. This was too awful. It couldn’t be happening. Sodomy! I’m not queer, thought Geoff. But I’m not Geoff. I’m Tania. Master is fucking my cunt. Tania’s muscles relaxed and the monster dick plunged all the way into her. All the way to her very soul.
‘Yes. Yes. Yes! Fuck me, Darling. Fuck your virgin bride. Fuck me harder.’
The feeling of her new husband’s spunk spurting into her made Tania climaxed. Her first sex on her wedding night. Her first orgasm. She felt totally empty when he pulled out; empty but deeply satisfied. She was in love.
Mrs Prentice made Tania lick up let mess that Geoff had made and then ordered her back to the table. Mr P allowed Colin to lick him clean and replaced his trousers.
‘It’s our practice, when a new author arrives at Crewel, for the established authors to tell their life stories,’ said Mrs P. ‘I find it a pleasant way to pass an evening and the method of telling allows for constant improvisation so the rehearing the tales is seldom dull. Since you’re nearest the head of the table, Emma, why don’t you go first?’
Emma leant forward on her elbows, glanced nervously first at Mr Prentice and then his wife, and began her tale. ‘When I was at secondary school, my friends were always telling me that I could be a model . . .’
‘You’re to wash your hands before dinner. Follow me.’
Tania’s tight skirt made her take steps as small as those enforced by Zoë’s chains. She followed Zoë to a luxurious bathroom.
‘I need to go. Could you . . .’
‘Mistress says I have to watch you all the time,’ whispered Zoë, blushing nevertheless.
It was humiliating to squat with this lovely girl looking on. Tania tried her best to conceal Geoff from view. Zoë looked on silently as Tania went to the toilet and then washed. Then Tania followed the pretty, naked slavegirl to a huge dining room.
The scene was bizarre to say the least. Mr Prentice sat at the head of a long table, which was set already with plates and cutlery. His wife faced him at the other end. She looked up as Zoë and Tania entered. Facing one side of the table sat one man in his forties and two big women of indeterminate age. Only the man was naked. His wrists were chained. There were two spare seats at Mrs Prentice’s end next to the isolated male. Facing them, the other diners were also female, all naked and chained in the same fashion as the man and Zoë. Next to Mr Prentice was a tall slender girl with raven hair and the face and figure of a fashion model. The next woman was much older. Her large breasts sagged slightly and her neck announced her as middle aged. Next to her was another pretty but plump young girl ─ buxom one might say ─ with short mousy hair. Zoë took her place next to this girl. A rather ugly middle-aged woman was serving soup to the assembled party dressed in a maid’s uniform.
Tania stood there, awaiting instructions.
‘Sit here next to me, Tania. Betty, you sit between her and Colin,’ said Mrs P. ‘Betty is a pathetic transvestite like you, Tania. And she is my slave,’ she announced.
Tania sat down awkwardly and looked at the others around the table. Betty served her some soup and squeezed in next to her. The soup was a delicious watercress and asparagus. After Betty had cleared away the soup plates, served the main course of salmon and broccoli and rejoined the eaters at table, Mr Prentice eventually spoke.
‘Allow me to introduce Tania Hyde, our newest author: my wife’s latest acquisition.’ He emphasized the last word. ‘This is Emma Willcock. She also belongs to my wife.’ He chucked the black haired beauty under the chin. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Yes, Master. Hallo, Tania.’ She smiled timidly. She had a pronounced Welsh accent.
‘And this is Charlotte O’Kane, one of our most prolific and best selling authors. She belongs to me as does Chloe, next to her, and Colin Masterson, next to you.’
The two big women were introduced as Gloria Ash and Mary De Sade. Mr Prentice explained the spare setting by saying that Tony, his best photographer might join them later.
Dinner finished, Zoë helped Betty clear the table and served brandy and coffee to everyone.
‘Have you finished my letters, Tania?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’
‘Why didn’t you bring them for signature, then, you idle slut? And don’t think I haven’t noticed the filthy stain on the new skirt I gave you. Stand!’
Nervously, Tania pushed her chair back and stood up, smoothing down her skirt and hoping the patch had dried.
‘What do slags like you deserve?’
‘Please don’t beat me, Mistress.’
‘Get over the chair.’
Tania knew she had no choice. She pulled her chair clear on the table and leant over its back, placing her hands on the seat.
‘Pull her skirt up and knickers down, Colin,’ ordered Mr P, ‘and then come here.’
Tania’s blush burned like fire. Everyone would see her shame now. Everyone would see Geoff, who was already growing hard again.
Tania wept as much from shame as from the pain, as Mrs Prentice handed out ten strokes of the cane.
‘Thank you, Mistress,’ she sobbed, rising, getting ready to kneel and kiss Mistress’s feet for being so lenient.
‘Get back in place, Bitch.’
Tania bent again, regretting her premature optimism. Please no more, she silently prayed.
During her short moment of uprightness, Tania had seen that Colin was kneeling between his master naked knees.
‘That’s enough, Colin. I’m ready now.’ It was Mr P’s voice.
Tania waited for the crop but, instead, he felt something warm and wet and hard push between the cheeks of his sore backside.
‘Nooooooooooo!’ she screamed as she realized what was happening. Her No turned into a scream of agony as Mr P’s huge organ pressed relentlessly into Tania’s arse. This was too awful. It couldn’t be happening. Sodomy! I’m not queer, thought Geoff. But I’m not Geoff. I’m Tania. Master is fucking my cunt. Tania’s muscles relaxed and the monster dick plunged all the way into her. All the way to her very soul.
‘Yes. Yes. Yes! Fuck me, Darling. Fuck your virgin bride. Fuck me harder.’
The feeling of her new husband’s spunk spurting into her made Tania climaxed. Her first sex on her wedding night. Her first orgasm. She felt totally empty when he pulled out; empty but deeply satisfied. She was in love.
Mrs Prentice made Tania lick up let mess that Geoff had made and then ordered her back to the table. Mr P allowed Colin to lick him clean and replaced his trousers.
‘It’s our practice, when a new author arrives at Crewel, for the established authors to tell their life stories,’ said Mrs P. ‘I find it a pleasant way to pass an evening and the method of telling allows for constant improvisation so the rehearing the tales is seldom dull. Since you’re nearest the head of the table, Emma, why don’t you go first?’
Emma leant forward on her elbows, glanced nervously first at Mr Prentice and then his wife, and began her tale. ‘When I was at secondary school, my friends were always telling me that I could be a model . . .’
