Making of a Slut Ch. 05

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School mistress continues with her training.
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Part 5 of the 5 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 09/23/2003
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Cherrie
Cherrie
49 Followers

Chapter 5: Fran Dresses To Thrill

It was a different Fran that returned to the bedroom, and closed the door. Gone was the facade of being the purely innocent that she had always lead people to believe. Her legs still feeling like Jelly, her bottom on fire from the arse fucking she had just cruelly received, she threw down the remnants of the, now torn dress across the bed, and then sat down momentarily in order to reflect upon the days events. That afternoon she had been a willing party, to what she thought would have been...perhaps should only have been, a harmless bit of flirtation. Up until that moment on Larry's little fishing boat, she had been an anal virgin, now it felt as though she had received baptizism by fire!

In no way was she disappointed, the way her heart raced bore testimony to that, the hunger for more still raged between her loins, as she glanced down at the clothes Stuart had laid out for her across the pillow. Tentatively she picked up a small powder blue lace top, and examined the fine intricate workmanship that had gone into its creation. The lace-work was so fine, so sheer, that it rendered the top completely transparent. With a slight struggle, she tentatively slipped it over her head, taking care not to damage the delicate fabric: Her body, still slick with perspiration from Larry's administrations making the job even more difficult. She desperately needed to shower, but he had forbidden that, his words still ringing in her ears. He wanted her to smell like a whore...like the slut she was to become.

Unclipping the fastenings at the top of her stockings, she peeled them off and discarding them, watching as the thin nylon glided through the air and onto the floor. Placing her hand between her legs, she felt the wetness from Larry's seaman, still seeping from her anal opening. Already the sticky secretions at the top of her legs, beginning to dry into a white powdery substance.

"Oh...I'll smell like a whore alright," she whispered quietly, holding her sticky fingers under her nose, and then placing them between her hungry lips before sucking on them greedily. "And taste like one too!"

Removing the suspender belt, she next examined the skirt that lay on the bed. It too was powder blue, but here all similarity ended. The skirt was minute, no more than a thick belt, and seemed to be made out of the thinnest Latex imaginable. Fran had heard of people wearing rubber, and had always regarded them as being 'a bit kinky' but here she was, about to taste the joy's of what she had always thought strange.

It proved almost a nightmare to put on. The rubber sticking to her damp skin, pulling her naked flesh this way and that, threatening to tear it off her very bones, but at last she managed it, and then cursed herself for not noticing the small container of talcum powder that had been put out, in order to assist her.

Fran felt slightly uncomfortable at first, feeling the tightness of the Latex, as it clung to her naked skin, stretching, following her every movement, as though it was part of her. The feeling soon passed, only to be replaced by a new feeling, a more sensuous feeling. Examining herself in the mirror, her eyes following the line of her long slim legs, as they disappeared out of sight beneath the hemline. She knew instinctively, what the little rubber skirt had been designed for. It was designed for sex, not for comfort or to follow the latest fashion trends...but for the pure sensuality that it gave to the wearer: Every curve, every 'goose bump' defined through the thin rubber material. It filled her with wicked excitement, to realize that even to the most casual of observers, it would be blatantly obvious that she was devoid of all underwear.

"Everything alright Madam?" quizzed Stuart, as he casually walked into the room un- announced, and catching her by surprise. He appeared to be holding something in his hands. "Master Larry is waiting in the car downstairs, he asked me to give you these."

He held out a matching pair of shoes, and what appeared to be three very fine gold chains. Fran took the proffered items, puzzled at what they could possibly be for. The shoes were obvious, but the tiny golden chains had her completely mystified, they were much too fine and delicate in their composition, to be worn as jewelry.

"If Madam would allow," suggested the butler, holding out his hand after seeing the confusion on her face.

Taking the chains from her, and suggesting that she raise her arms a little. He leant towards her and wrapped one around her slim waist, taking care to ensure that the tiny catch was fastened securely in the small of her back. Next he clipped on the second chain to the first, at a point just below her naval, letting the free end dangle down towards the floor. She became aware that his fingers were trembling slightly, the thought that she was making this horrible little man nervous, strangely excited her. Then what he did next, took her completely by surprise, it happened so quickly that any objection would have been useless! He reached down, and gripping the hem of her tiny skirt, yanked it up to her waist in one swift movement. Fran let out a gasp at his unexpected audacity!

"Now if Madam would squat please."

Her face grimaced at the way he had uttered the word 'squat' making it sound so vile, so degrading. 'Why on earth would the little pervert ask that!' she thought.

"Please Madam...Master Larry is waiting," he urged, seeing the bewildered expression in her eyes, and then adding, "and we have to fit these."

He held up the two spherical balls, dangling them by the string, causing them to pendulum back and forth in front of her face.

She had completely forgotten to insert the two 'Love eggs'. Her mind had been entirely engrossed with the day's events and by what she was wearing. It was with a little trepidation that she followed his next command.

Squatting down onto her haunches, she allowed the man to put them into her once again, noting that he had the same lewd expression on his face as last time. A small tingle of pleasure ran down her spine...a feeling of wickedness, as she felt his hands trembling. She moaned silently to herself as she felt the balls filling her once again, her cunt, already wet and eager to make their re-acquaintance. She shuddered with added pleasure as he carefully rolled the short length of string between his thumb and fingers, until nothing was left but a small ball, which he tucked away out of sight between the folds of her inner lips.

Still squatting, Stuart then pulled at the roll of rubber that had previously been her skirt, and was now gathered tightly around her waist, and passed the end of the second gold chain beneath it, before instructing her to stand up and face away from him. She complied with his wishes, confident in the fact, that whatever the horrid little man had planned, it would probably come as no surprise. Then she realized how wrong she could be! He bent down and took the loose end of the chain and drew it up tightly between her legs, making her suck in her breath, like a fish fighting for air in the tight clutches of a fisherman's net. He tugged at the end, driving the tiny gold links ever deeper between the lips of her labia, causing her to experience a torrid stinging sensation, as it bit into her tender flesh.

Satisfied, he clipped the end onto the waist chain at the small of her back, chuckling to himself at the discomfort that he had put her through. Finally he adjusted the rubber skirt back to its original length, and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Oh one more thing," he announced, handing her the third gold chain, which looked slightly heavier that the previous two, and much shorter. "Your to wear this...at all times. Master Larry was very meticulous about that. He instructed me to tell you that it must never be removed from your person...for any reason. Is that clear?"

Fran examined the chain, it seemed harmless enough, and then nodded her agreement. The chain was indeed heavier, and much smaller than the others. It had the tiniest of what seemed like a dog tag dangling from its center. She examined the wording carefully, the blood draining from her face, turning her a deathly white! The tiny words, etched in gold shouting out to her...I am a Slut!

For the first time in her life, she suddenly realized what she was... what she had always been deep down. The 'Prim and Proper' schoolteacher image that she had always portrayed to the world, had all been a façade. This is what she really was...really desired to be... A slut! Ready and willing to take any man she chose, allowing him do to her all the nasty disgusting things that she had only read about in top shelf magazines. The gold tag, said it all, the words hitting her between the eyes, enabling her to now see clearly for the first time exactly what she really was. Yes she would wear it...wear it with pride...wear it because that's what she was...a slut!

At first she thought it a bracelet, but found it was much too long to stay on her slender wrists, and too short to hang around her neck. Lifting her right foot onto the bed, she found it fitted comfortably around her slim ankle. She clicked shut the tiny gold catch, locking it into place. Satisfied she bent down to retrieve the shoes that Stuart had deposited at the foot of the bed. Instantly, she felt a cold thrill between her legs, as the gold chain that now resided there, bit deeper into her inner labia, pushing the hood of her clitoris to one side and then holding it there.

She stood up sharply, startled by the unexpected sensations that now emanated from her moist pussy. She could feel the chain pulling at her... feel it nestling snugly in the cleft between her damp legs, all the time rubbing...the fine links teasing the head of her exposed little button. Her whole genitalia seemed like it was on fire with the many sensations: The chain pressing tightly against her delicate nerve endings, the balls dancing together deeply inside her tight cunt...vibrating at her every movement. Her whole body began to shake, her muscles going into involuntary spasms.

In order to steady herself, she gripped the footboard of the bed tightly, her knuckles turning white as a small soft moaning sound emanated from deep within her throat. Her legs trembled uncontrollably... locking themselves together, as she climaxed, the orgasm intensified by the sight of Stuart standing there watching her, with a malicious smile spread across his thin cruel lips.

"Perfect Madam," he commented, as though he had just witnessed the most natural thing in the world. "Shall we go...Master Larry is waiting."

Feeling herself blush with embarrassment, Fran shamefully clutched the shoes, tucking them under her arm. She was still far to weak to attempt to walk in them at the moment, and followed him in silence downstairs towards the waiting car.

Larry was already seated behind the wheel, as Fran slid onto the passenger seat and closed the door. She noticed the smell of his expensive aftershave as he leant over and kissed her gently on the cheek. He smiled approvingly, noting how her tiny skirt had ridden up high over her soft thighs, revealing her smoothly shaved pussy; it's delicate lips pouting impudently. She sheepishly attempted to pull down the hem, but placing his hand firmly on hers, he stopped her.

"Leave it!" he commanded, and then reminding her, "I will tell you when and where...do you understand?"

"Yes," she replied obediently, knowing by the tone of his voice that any resistance would not be received favorably.

Smiling, he slipped the car into gear and sped away, his tires churning up the gravel, causing it to clatter as it bounced off the underside of the chassis. Fran remained silent, lost in her own thoughts, her little skirt still sitting high around her thighs, his hand resting upon her knee. She felt his hand climb higher, his little finger gently rubbing at the gold chain, which cut through her labia, pressing her clitoris so tightly: His fingernail raking the gold gently, causing the links to vibrate and send small tingles through her body.

Fran was having trouble controlling the uncontrolled spasms that were starting to bubble up between her legs. From the first moment that he had pulled away, until their arrival, at the car park, the two little balls, deeply embedded within her moist cunt had vibrated her to near orgasm. She was aflame, her whole body crying out for a merciful release...a release that she knew only Larry could grant.

"Oh please Larry," she begged wantonly, not caring who heard her, "take me...take me now...please!"

He watched, an amused smile spreading across his lips, as she climbed out of the car, her eyes searching for his...pleading, the desperation in her voice, like a lost child searching for its mother. She looked like the little whore he knew she really was, with her skirt hitched up around her waist, the way the dampness between her legs glistened under the cars headlights. He had known from the first minute he had clamped eyes on her, whilst she was climbing down the ladder to his boat, that she would be the one.

"Oh not yet my precious little slut...not yet. First I have to show you off a little, and then maybe you'll get all the fucking you deserve."

He said it with such authority, not a trace of contempt in his voice. She looked at him puzzled, not sure what he had meant, by 'showing her off.' His next directives sent cold shivers running down her spine.

"And remember, you're my slut...no one else's mine! From this point on, you will carry out without complaint, all that I command. When I tell you to do something, you do it, if I say jump, then all I wish to hear...is how high! Do you understand?"

"But...I..." she stammered, and then just nodded her head in compliance.

The way he had delivered his instructions left her no doubt in her mind, that now was not the time to argue. Resigned to the fact that he was totally in control, she adjusted her skirt, pulling down the hem, until it gave her a semblance of respectability. With her head bowed forward in submission, she waited whilst he switched off the headlights and locked the car, before following him into the dimly lit bar.

As she entered, she suddenly found herself plunged into semi-darkness, as her eyes attempted to adjust themselves to the murky lighting of the bars interior. A group of men, still dressed in their working clothes, were busy playing pool in the far corner. Acrid cigarette smoke filled the air, adding to the bars cheap dingy appearance. A steady beat coming from an old jukebox, positioned against the side of a small dance floor drew Fran's attention. There she could just about make out, the dim outline of a young girl, probably still in her early teens, up on the dance floor, with her arms tightly clamped around the neck of some guy old enough to be her father. The man was drunk, his hands everywhere upon the girls body, like a rampant octopus that couldn't make up its mind where to grab next.

Gently clutching her arm, Larry guided her towards the long bar, which ran nearly the full length of the room, and indicated for her to climb up onto the bar stool beside him. Taking care, and with some difficulty, she managed to climb up alongside him, her tiny latex skirt riding high over her thighs. A small tingle of electricity shot through her body, a sudden reminder, of the chain that ran between her moist pussy lips, as it tightened slightly, causing it to press down hard onto her swollen clitoris. Instinctively she tightly crossed her legs, placing her hands upon her lap, naively hoping that know one had noticed the look of sheer pleasure that momentarily graced her face.

Without consultation, Larry ordered a couple of large Johnnie Walkers on the rocks, and waited in silence as the bartender placed the tumblers onto the cardboard coasters in front of them. It took several more minutes before her eyes fully adjusted to the bars gloomy interior. She glanced around uneasily, afraid that she may be recognized, but now that she could see more clearly, she knew that this was not the sort of place that any of her known associates would ever visit. Feeling a lot safer, she sat back and relaxed safer in the knowledge that the chances of being discovered by someone that she knew, where very remote.

Picking up her tumbler, she swirled the ice cubes around, watching them as they clinked loudly against the side of the glass, and then raised the tumbler to her lips. She grimaced as the Black Label hit the back of her throat, and then slowly burned it's way down to her stomach. Whiskey was not amongst her favorites, but the hot acid taste quickly subsided, leaving her with a warm glowing sensation deep inside. As she lowered the tumbler, she looked across the bar and gazed into the large ornate mirror that ran its length. She watched the reflection over her shoulder, as the three men at the pool table stared intently at her back. She could feel their eyes burning into her, the wanton lust written on their faces as they mentally undressed her. For the first time, she felt uncomfortable...and totally naked under their salacious stares. She shifted uneasily on the stool, her embarrassment showing on her face.

"They evidently like you," remarked Larry, sipping his drink whilst enjoying her discomfort. "It's obvious that they recognize a slut when they see one, and that's what you are Fran isn't it...a slut?"

She didn't know how to answer; everything he said about her was true. She really was a slut...a slut to the core. She suddenly realized that the way she was dressed, the way she smelt...even the way she was feeling, was a lot different than before. She had progressed a long way from just dressing sexy and leaving off her underwear. This was something else...something much more base and sensuous. Larry had dressed her to thrill, dressed her to announce to the world what a dirty little whore she really was.

The thought aroused her, giving her a newfound strength, a realization that she could perhaps tempt a man...any man, certainly any one of the men present in the little bar, to do whatever crudities with her that they so desired. She bit her lip, her mind racing, as it filled with deliciously wicked thoughts. Only in her most secret fantasies, had she ever been given such an opportunity to show herself off like she could now. She felt the dampness, beginning to accumulate once again between her legs.

Taking another sip of whiskey, she looked up into Larry's eyes. 'Is this what he wants?' she thought, as she searched his face for an answer. 'Does he want me to exhibit myself...would he care if I exhibited myself?'

Her answer came quickly, as he leaned over and whispered softly for her to turn around and face the men. "Uncross your legs Fran. It's time to show you off like I promised."

Her heart missed a beat, the nervousness causing her whole body to shiver with excitement at what he was asking her to do. She could feel the blush beginning to burn red upon her cheeks. The two balls, still embedded deep within her vagina vibrating rapidly as her whole body trembled, with delicious anticipation.

Without taking her eyes from his face, she apprehensively took another long swig from the glass, before turning around on her stool to face the pool table, whilst at the same time slowly uncrossing her long slim legs. Hardly daring to look, she anxiously stole a quick glance downwards towards her lap, nervously licking the remnants of whiskey from her lips. Her fears were confirmed as she saw that the tiny hem had ridden up and was now barely covering anything. From her position at the bar, and the way she was facing the three guys, she had no doubts that they each had an uninterrupted view up her tiny skirt. The thought thrilled her, causing her nipples to harden beneath the thin lace top. She watched the three men through the corner of her eye, her pulse racing with excitement, in the knowledge that she had caused the prominent bulges in their pants. Feeling braver, she took another sip from her glass, and then opened her knees slightly.

Cherrie
Cherrie
49 Followers
12