Meredith’s Surprise Slut Lesson

Hairy

In case this is the first of my stories you’ve read, there are a few things I’ve skipped over in this story since there are several other stories I’ve written about this same sub. I tend to write a story after almost all of my sessions with my toys. But I publish very few of them online.

***

My name is Pepper Rodgers. I’m a 19-year-old Domme, living downtown Mobile, Alabama. I have a decently well-stocked playroom in the second bedroom of my fourth-floor apartment (most of my neighbors are corporate types who aren’t always around, giving me a lot of privacy, even in the halls and elevators). I also have a decently stocked toy box. I prefer my toys to be older than I am, around 30-42 years old. I prefer men for myself, however not for my toybox. When it comes to toys, I find women and couples to be far more amusing. Single men tend to be needier, and often too clingy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few of them in my toybox. I do. They just don’t have the same chances of getting there as couples and single women do.

I’m petite. Actually more tiny that petite. I’m 5′ 1.75″ and 91 pounds. I’m not bony, though, I’ve curvy, like a small-sized woman. I have blond hair down to my shoulders and blue eyes. Oh, and my chest is the only place I’m not small. I’m a 32-D, and I’m very pert. Which makes me popular with the boys.

I’m also slightly bisexual. I’m attracted to men, not women. I’d never choose a female partner for even a date, let alone for sex. But I’m not opposed to masturbating with a female toy. Sophie happens to be my favorite sex toy to pleasure myself with. Her tongue has two big advantages over my vibrator: one, it’s very delicate and tender. Two, no matter how much I use it, its batteries never die at the worst possible moment! It’s better than fresh bunny batteries, it just keeps going until I want it to stop. And I don’t even have to hold it in place!

When I want sex I never use one of my toys. I never allow a toy touch, or even see, all of me. And I never bring a toy to my bedroom. Nor do I chose a woman. I pick a man, usually one I find in a club or cafe, or wherever. I flirt, dance dirty a little and if he meets my standards, I ask if he’s interested in a one-time-only, no-names-exchanged, hook-up. I’ve never been turned down.

I have a few standards for my hook-ups. I never pick a guy I know or even just see around. And I insist on a cock between 7 and 9″ long and 1.5″ across, plus or minus a small bit. I won’t touch a guy who isn’t circumcised, either. I hate the way the foreskin feels inside me. I want to feel that fat head. The dirty dancing gives me plenty of time to tease a guy hard and feel for myself what he’s got. It’s the only way not to be disappointed. Guys always lie about their equipment!

Sophie is my 19-year-old live-in slave-girl. She’s slightly petite at 5’4″ and 119 pounds. She’s pretty, too, with long honey-blond hair, green eyes, and a 34-B chest. Sophie is extremely devoted to me. So devoted, and so happy as my slave, that despite not being attracted to women, she’s a virgin with men. She serves and pleasures only me, and those I give her to. And while I use her, even with my male toys, I won’t allow any man to touch her pussy or penetrate her bottom. Those are mine. Only mine.

I have three BFFs, (Isabelle, Reagan, and Ellie) none of whom are into my little games. But all of whom occasionally creep into my stories. After all, they are my BFFs so they tend to be around. Luckily they’re not offended by anything they happen to see. They’re just not eager for me to put on a show on their account.

I also have a circle of five other women friends, all of whom are Dommes as well. Andrea (26), Janelle (35), Colette (39), Diane (43), and Olive (44). we usually get together every couple of weeks for coffee and a little chat about who’s doing what to whom lately. We sometimes share, or loan, our toys to each other, but not that often. Sometimes we do a favor for each other, such as providing something different for a toy. Mostly we do what girls do: we gossip.

I get all of my toys through networking. It’s almost always either one of the women in our circle who has a toy she doesn’t want and offers to point it at another who is interested. Or sometimes one of my toys tells someone, who tells someone, and so on until someone asks my toy to introduce someone to me. Rarely it’s someone I don’t play with, but who knows what I’m into, who asks me to meet someone. I get plenty of emails inquiring about meeting me, and while I will email and maybe chat with a sub online, I haven’t yet met any. I won’t rule it out, but meeting online is risky enough that someone would have to convince me before I’d think about it. A girl’s gotta be careful!

[Note: Mistress Pepper and Sophie are “anonymized” versions of me and my slave-girl. The real me. All of my stories are (or should I say will be) my memories of a session with a sub. Thus, they are true stories, only in this version details have been changed to protect the sub. I do live in Mobile about 10 months of the year (the remaining two I spend in Sahabet Nizhny Novgorod, Russia, where my father is from and lives), and almost all of my subs live in Mobile or a bordering county. I’m originally from Baldwin County, next door to Mobile. I moved across the bay to attend USA. As is/did Mistress Pepper. But I’m not a blond. And you’ll most definitely have to guess at my bra size! Enjoy the story!]

Allan is a 42-year-old man who has been my toy for around seven or eight months. He’s been coming to amuse me about once every two to three weeks. Tonight, this Saturday night is his 15th session in my little playroom.

He’s, to me, a typical middle-aged divorced man. He’s decidedly middle-class, but also the suit-and-tie kind. He sells ads for one of the local TV stations. And he has two teenage kids, a boy 15 and a girl 17. In theory, he has them every weekend, but like any teenager, they care far more about their friends and social lives than any court custody decree. In reality, they’re at his house no more than one weekend a month. They might technically be there another one or two, but to me, it doesn’t count if they’re only there long enough to sleep a few hours and head out again.

He also has an LTGF – a long term girlfriend. She doesn’t exactly live with him, maintaining her own apartment. But she does spend many nights, like five or six a week, sometimes even seven, at his house. She keeps a fair part of her wardrobe and personal things at his house. To me, that counts as a “significant other.” And I never play behind the back of anyone’s serious partner. Before his first session, I made him have his girlfriend email with her permission for him to come amuse me. I’m sure that made for a rather interesting conversation between them.

It also gave me her email address. At first, she said she would prefer not to know what he’s doing. I almost left it at that, but something about the way she said it told me not to, that she had some misconceptions about what I might be doing with him. So I started sending her messages, telling her what he’d done, and silently letting her know what he hadn’t done. After a few sessions, she told me she was a little curious. The tone of her letter told me she wanted to understand what he could get here that he could get from her. Then the floodgates opened and she wanted to know everything. So I’ve been allowing her to see the videos of his time in the playroom. He, however, doesn’t know any of that. He thinks she’s still totally in the dark about what goes on in the playroom.

When Allan arrived at my apartment about twenty minutes ago, this session began as they all do. Sophie, my 19-year-old live-in slave-girl, met him at the door. She allowed him a few steps in, then immediately demanded that he hand over everything he had, including his underwear. She locked all of it in the file cabinet in the playroom, and she doesn’t have a key to unlock it. Only I have that. Once that drawer is shut, his clothes only come back out when I decide they do. Nude, Sophie has him kneel down and wait for me to be ready for him.

I only made him wait a few minutes while I finished a strawberry smoothie that Sophie had made for me earlier. Then I grabbed hold of his hair and led him into the playroom.

Allan is slightly tall at six-foot. He’s 200 pounds, but it’s a lean weight. It’s muscle, not fat. It doesn’t make him look like a linebacker, but more like a dad who spends a lot of time in the gym. And that he is. He has the gym equipment, at least some of it, in his house for those days he doesn’t get to the gym. It’s given him a toned look.

He has dark brown hair, cut short to where it’s off his collar and brown eyes. He’s not hairy, but he does have a nice fur of gray-tinged black hair on his chest and thighs. And a dense jungle of black curls on his pubes. He has small, narrow, but deep-pink nipples on his chest. And a very average cock. That’s only about five inches long, plus or minus a small fraction, and just under an inch across. But it’s standing up straight, straining to a hardness that rivals steel. That leaves his equally furry balls hanging free between his thighs, and it leaves them fully exposed to my eyes. Sophie’s eyes, too. She loves men, and wouldn’t hesitate to steal more than one glance anytime I allow it.

But in fairness, he’s glancing at Sophie, too. It seems that any man that comes here looks at her. She’s pretty, with curly long honey-blond hair and green eyes. Tonight, as usual, I have her dressed in one of her slave dresses. They’re all the same, only different colors. This one is baby blue. It’s all stretchy lace and hugs her body from the top of her breasts down to an inch below the bottom curve of her cheeks. It’s fringed with frilly white lace. And it’s lace does nothing to conceal much of anything. She has matching fingerless lace gloves, and spike-heeled, knee-high, boots made of a stiff lace instead of leather. She’s definitely worth looking at.

“Sit.” I order him firmly, pointing to the “high chair.” It’s new to him. I’m sure he’s seen it in here before, Sahabet Giriş but so far I’ve never made him sit in it. It’s tall, more like a barstool than a chair, and thus its nickname. Like most of the props in here, it was custom built for me by a few friendly frat boys.

It looks like any stool in a bar, though. For a seat, it has a pair of two-inch-wide wood slats shaped like a “V” with its point missing. For a back it has two metal poles standing up a few inches apart at the center, rising up to another wood slat at the shoulders. Those end at the top of his hips, turning sharply outward, then just as sharply downward, to join the legs.

Allan sits on it, trying to wiggle himself comfortable. Instead of waiting, I tap his knee with the tip of my crop and instruct him to sit all the way back against the chair’s back. He scoots back. It leaves his entire bottom hanging in the air, the short slats of the seat now only under his thighs. Which is what I want.

Sophie hands me a length of natural hemp rope. I kneel down and wrap three turns of it around one of his ankles before tying it off to itself. Then I start winding the rope around his calf and the two-inch slat of the chair’s leg. I pull each coil tight around him, making sure it’s lying snugly against the last coil, looping the rope around his leg all the way up to his knee. I don’t tie it off there. I keep going, wrapping it around his lower thigh all the way up to the end of the slat maybe three inches before the crease of his thigh. Then I tie it off, securely binding his leg to the chair. I do the same with his other leg.

Now I move up to his shoulders. He’s sitting up pretty straight, so I don’t have much shoving to do to get him squared up against that slat. On the back of that slat, there’s a square metal channel with a few screw eyes on it. Sophie hands me another length of rope, and I tie it off to one of those eyes. Then I wrap three tight coils of it around both his chest and the slat. Now I wrap two more coils of it around one shoulder, under his armpit, and around the slat. Another coil around his chest, and then two more loops around the other shoulder. Finally one last wrap around his chest, and I tie it off. It has his shoulders very snugly bound in place to that slat.

Now for his hands. I’d never leave those free while I tease a toy. Toys tend to misbehave when they suffer. Sophie fetches me a third length of rope. I wrap three coils of it around his left wrist and tie it off. Then I bring his hand up to the back of his neck, bring the rope along with it. I make three turns of the rope around his neck, pulling all the slack out of them, but not tightening them. But nor do I tie off the rope. I bring his right wrist up, wrap three tight coils around that, and then tie it off around his arm. This way, should he try to pull either or both wrists from his neck, he’ll only pull the rope uncomfortably tighter around his neck. That should encourage him to behave, while also leaving him free to struggle but punishing him with a choking tightness should he misbehave.

I have Sophie hand me a pair of ½” wide leather straps. I drape those over the very tops of his thighs, wrapping them around the wide part of the metal tubes as they join the chair’s legs, and also through a screw eye there to keep them from moving around. I pull them tight before tying them, pulling them into the creases of his thighs and pulling his hips firmly towards the bars. That pulls his back tight against the narrow bars rising up to his shoulders.

I blindfold him with a thick sash of dark cloth, tying it tightly around his eyes so he doesn’t get a single ray of light through it. And then I gag him. The gag I chose for him is kind of like a ball gag, only with a large egg-shaped piece instead of a round ball. The “egg” is rubber, covered with a layer of squishy foam, and with a ¾” tube through its center for air. As I tighten the strap around his head, it pulls the pointy end of that egg to the back of his mouth. While he can easily breathe through the tube, the egg is fat enough to mostly stuff his mouth full. And firmly hold his tongue still.

Sitting in the “high chair” leaves his bottom fully accessible. There’s no seat under any of his cheeks, and there’s no back rising up behind it. His cock, still as hard as they come, stands out straight, pointed slightly upward, between this rope-bound thighs. And it leaves his big balls hanging low in their furry sack, dangling freely in mid-air.

I have a special toy waiting to use on Allan tonight. He hasn’t seen it. It’s been behind a heavy screen cloaking off a corner of the playroom, but I doubt he thought anything about it. That screen is always there. Just not the toy behind it.

The toy is Mia. Ever since I re-homed Joyce, a slave I never intended to keep, I’ve missed having a second slave in the house to take care of the more menial chores and free Sophie up to cater to my capricious whims. But instead of looking for one, lately, I’ve been having one of my unattached toys stay here a few days at a time to fulfill that Sahabet Güncel Giriş role. Then after a day or three, I’ll summon another toy for it. Mia, being a waitress, is now temporarily unemployed since the Governor ordered all restaurants to stop dine-in service. No restaurant can afford to pay waitresses to wait on no one, so most have been laid off until the dining rooms reopen. And that unhappy turn of events has left Mia with plenty of free time to worship at my feet, amuse me, and do the chores around my house.

Mia is 18, almost 19, years old. And she looks as young as she is. She’s somewhat petite at 5’3″ and 109 pounds. She has a round face, with short black hair and green eyes, a small little nose, and a straight mouth with full light-pink lips. She’s lean and thin, the bones slightly showing at her shoulders. Her figure is somewhat “stickish,” but her sides aren’t so straight that she doesn’t have any curve, just a gentle one. But she also has a flat stomach with taut skin.

If I were to allow her a bra, it would be a 34-A. Her breasts look small, even on a small girl, but also rather shapely and firm. They’re fully rounded, like half oranges blossoming off her chest. In my hand, they’re just loose enough to have a slight sponginess to them. And they’re topped with wide nipples that stand out a full ¼” from her mound. Nipples with tips so flat that they have a crisp edge at their rim. But also light pink nipples that are surrounded by wide rings of a very light pink hue which seem to take up a full third of her mound.

And Mia sports a full bush of very dense black curls that is trimmed into a neat triangle with sharp lines just inside the crease of her thighs. At its bottom, her bush has a rounded point that ends a scant bit above her lips. Lips that are long, but flat and narrow, leaving her pussy mound more flat than puffy. Her lips don’t fully meet, leaving a good slit between them that allows her extra wrinkly purple inner folds to poke out. All of which can easily be seen with her standing, Mia not having enough fur or thigh to hide any of it.

Too bad for Allan he’s blindfolded. Mia might be young, a mere 13 months older than his daughter, and to him, she might even look like a child. He was 24 when she was born, which makes him old enough to be her father. And, by happenstance, 11 months older than her father. And she has a very “girl-next-door” averageness to her face, but there’s no denying that she’s cute. And what man doesn’t like looking at cute young women? Especially one wearing nothing except a pastel pink collar and matching leash.

I get Mia out of the kennel she’s been waiting locked inside. The kennel just behind the screen. She crawls out, and when told to get to her feet, stands up with her hands behind her back. Then she obediently follows me as I walk her out and stand her in front of Allan, as he sits in the “high chair.”

I leave Mia standing, facing Allan, about three feet in front of him with her leash hanging down between her breasts. While I watch Allan and Mia, Sophie gets a stool and sits it beside Allan, also about three feet back from him. I cue her with a little wave of my hand, and Sophie slips out of the room.

In a few minutes, Sophie is back with Meredith, Allan’s long time girlfriend, in tow. After the last few sessions, I allowed Meredith to watch the full videos of Allan’s session. There was nothing she didn’t get to see in every last detail. Then yesterday, as I was planning this session out in my mind, I asked Meredith to meet me for coffee and discuss Allan. She agreed. What I did was offer her a choice. If she agreed to follow my rules in my house, I would allow her to be there for his session tonight.

Instantly I saw a bright twinkle in her eye, even as she very nervously asked me what would be required of her. I told her. And I watched as every word seem to entice her just as much as made her nervous. She didn’t argue much or even make a serious effort to negotiate (which I wouldn’t have allowed). She agreed.

I don’t know her. That was the first, and only, time I’d met her or even spoken to her. So I didn’t ask much of her. Only what I needed to make Allan’s experience what I want it to be. An experience that will get him squirming and moaning in a very entertaining way.

As I’ve asked, she didn’t bring anything with her. Not even her purse or phone. Just her clothes, and a single key for her car in one of her pockets. As she enters, she does make a sound. Sophie is holding her hand, and Meredith quietly allows Sophie to walk her to the stool. Sophie points and Meredith sits.

Yesterday I’d left Meredith with the URL for my web site, a page of which has all my house rules on it, and the postures I expect my subs to assume when told to do various things, like sit. Meredith sits on the stool and crosses her legs. She rests her hands in her lap. It’s a sloppy, or inexperienced, version of the sitting posture. Sophie, knowing I will be disappointed to see even a complete newbie like Meredith sitting so improperly, immediately takes hold of Meredith’s hands and turns them palms up, rests one hand atop the other, and sets them in her lap. Then she straightens the woman up. Meredith, realizing that Sophie’s trying to help, allows Sophie to position her. When Sophie is done, I nod, which makes Sophie smile.

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