Training Ann-Marie Ch. 01

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I go to Portland and dominate a Swedish girl.
2.5k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 06/13/2012
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A couple of years ago, I was invited to participate in a Q&A panel at a three-day conference in Portland on access to clinical care. One of my employers offered to pay my travel and food costs. Better yet, thanks to a tip from a friend, I got the chance to housesit in a beautiful restored heritage loft in the Pearl District, whose owner was away for an entire week. Even though my work commitment was just for one day, I decided to take full advantage and stay the week.

I had an ulterior motive. A few weeks earlier, I'd signed up on a personals web site catering to bisexual and bi-curious women. I'd been sending notes back and forth with "svenskasub1986," who as you might guess claimed to be a bi-curious young Swedish woman living with her fiancee in downtown Portland. In addition to having a degree in marine biology and an esthetician's licence, she said she was looking to add one more thing to her resume before settling down and marrying: "I want to have the experience of giving myself over utterly to another woman and serving her for her pleasure, not mine, only hers. I want to learn, and I want to be obedient and do as she says. No restrictions."

As you can imagine, this pleased me very much and got my mind whirling with possibilities. I felt as if I was in a state of constant arousal. During the workday, whether at the office or driving around the city to meet with clients, I often had to "take a break"--locking the door to masturbate furiously while seated on the toilet, or pulling over on a quiet side street, hiking down my slacks, and caressing my tits while I flicked my soaked clit in broad daylight, fantasizing about being served, pleasured and obeyed

Still, when I arrived in Portland, I was prepared for the whole thing to be a hoax. We'd set up a meeting at a little coffee shop near the river that evening, but I figured she might not show up. It seemed too good to be true.

How pleasantly surprised I was, then, when I arrived and spotted her sitting at a corner table, nervously twisting her long blonde hair, flanked by her fiance, as we'd agreed.

"Hi, so nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand. "I'm pleased to see that you live up to the advertising." She accepted it with warm slender fingers and blushed a little.

"No, no, the pleasure is all mine—I mean, yours," she said with the barest trace of an accent and a giggle. "I'm Ann-Marie, and this is my fiance Robert." He nodded and shook hands too: late 20's, tall, American features, clearly pleased to see me.

We ordered cappucinos and spent a few minutes chatting about the city, the weather, work. Her eyes lowered demurely when I looked into hers, but she was clearly delighted to see me. At last, Robert polished off his coffee and gave Ann-Marie a quick kiss on the mouth. "Everything seems to be kosher, so I'll leave you girls to it," he said to Ann-Marie. "Love you, babe." As agreed, I handed him a slip of paper with my Portland address and phone number. He smiled at me, headed out and rode off on his bike.

Freed of distractions, I put my hand on Ann-Marie's knee and gave her a frankly admiring and appraising gaze. Her simple white blouse and tan capri pants did little to disguise the fact that she had, by my reckoning, a perfect body. Tall, nearly my height, perhaps 5-foot-9. She had light green eyes and long, fluttering lashes. A lock of blonde hair fell over her forehead, as porcelain-smooth as the rest of her body, except for a small mole on the side of her neck. Her figure was deliciously slender yet curvy: her breasts like almost-ripe Valencia oranges, her well-rounded hips reminding me of a girl I used to lust over in my Halifax years. I was wet, and I could feel my pussy clenching already with anticipation. I knew I wanted to take charge of Ann-Marie.

She smiled shyly and looked down. "Oh my God, this is very wild for me," she said. "I never expected when I signed up...I mean, our emails were very exciting, and now this...I mean, I'm hoping that you like me as much as, well, as I like you..."

I placed a finger over my lips. "Shhh." Then I leaned over the table, taking Ann-Marie's sweet young face between my hands and kissed her with hungry intensity on the mouth. Knowing that other patrons were watching us only increased my excitement and desire for her. My tongue flickered against hers as I kissed her deeply, again and again.

At last, I drew back. With a little gasp, she knocked her coffee cup on the floor, where it clattered.

"Pick that up like a good girl," I told her. She obeyed.

"Very good," I said with a knowing smile. "One thing you're going to have to get used to, if you want to serve me, is that I will do most of the talking and you will do most of the obeying. Is that easy for you to understand, Ann-Marie?"

She nodded, pushing her hair away from her eyes. "Yes, yes. Of course."

"Mistress. That's what we said in the emails. That's what I expect to be called."

"Yes, Mistress."

I can't even describe the feeling that went through me when she said those words and looked down at the floor. Just an incredible heat shot through my body. I knew I was now in charge and that I was going to get everything I wanted. My cunt was throbbing. At a nearby table, two lesbians were listening in, one buzzcut and older, the other more femme, both with slight knowing smirks on their faces.

I wanted to start using Ann-Marie for my pleasure right then and there. I was very turned on by the fact that she could feel my power and could hardly look at me. But I knew it was best to ease into this delicious scenario.

I stood up and reached for my jacket. "Let's go. It's about eight blocks from here."

Gesturing for her to walk in front of me, I headed toward the door with a wink to the two lesbians, who were openly ogling my new submissive. I overheard the older one saying: "God, I would submit to her too. Look at her. Magnificent. That blonde is one lucky little bitch..."

Back at the loft, I didn't waste time. I said to Ann-Marie: "Be honest. Have you been with a woman before? I mean properly."

"No, like I said, only making out with my girlfriends at the club in Gothenburg when I was growing up. But I always wanted more..."

"Oh, you'll get that here," I said with a laugh. "Get used to doing whatever I tell you to do. And by the way, who told you to not call me Mistress just now?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress," she said instantly.

"Really?" I said. "I'm sorry about this too." I reached out, grabbed the front of her blouse, and ripped it in half, right down the middle, buttons flying off. She shrieked in surprise, and then looked down as my dominant glance met her eyes.

"Pick up those buttons and then take off the rest of your clothes. Yes, you are to be completely naked the next time I see you. Which will be in the master bedroom, down the hall. I've left a set of printed instructions for you on the dresser over there."

Five minutes later, I lay moaning on the king-sized bed with entirely selfish, unabashed enjoyment while Ann-Marie, deliciously nude with a soft patch of golden pubic hair, massaged my body from tip to toe.

"Oh yeah," I smiled. "This is what I deserve. Nothing less than your complete attention and worship. I feel good, and that is all that counts. You are nothing."

"I am nothing and you are everything, Mistress," Ann-Marie acknowledged softly. "All I can do is serve you and give you pleasure." I felt the hardness of her young, pink-tipped nipples pressing into my back as she leaned over me, kneading my upper back.

"Do you want to see how much pleasure I'm experiencing?" I said. "Reach back. Spread me. Yes, do it. Put your hands on my beautiful ass and take a look for yourself."

She hesitated for a second and then complied. My asshole clenched and another surge of excitement went through me as I felt her feasting her eyes on my thoroughly aroused cunt.

"You want to lick it, don't you?" I said.

"Oh my God, oh yes, I do," she stammered.

"You haven't earned it yet," I told her, barely restraining my own desires. I knew I had to show her that I and only I was in control here. "Continue pleasing me. You need to prove that you're worthy to touch, tongue, and worship my cunt."

Ann-Marie redoubled her efforts, breathing hard with lust for me as she completed the massage. When she was done, I ordered her to rub aloe vera lotion into my skin so that I could feel as soft, fresh, and seductive as a goddess ought to be.

When she was done, I took my time before slowly rolling sideways, sitting up and putting my feet down at the edge of the bed. Instinctively, my little Swedish servant girl kneeled in front of me, and kissed my feet. God, she was even better than I'd fantasized.

"You love kissing my feet, don't you?" I said.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Would you rather kiss my feet or your fiance's mouth?"

"Your feet. Thank you, Mistress, for giving me this privilege."

"Here's another privilege you don't deserve, Ann-Marie. I want a pedicure, and you're going to give me one now. Go get your things and get started right away."

Still feeling the warm glow of arousal all over me, I could tell that this role was growing on me too. I put on my peach silk robe and sat down in a nearby armchair; she brought back a bowl of warm water and knelt before me again as I submersed my feet. It felt good. I didn't thank her or acknowledge her, and that felt good too. How delightfully wicked it was to have a servant girl doing exactly what I told her, obeying me at my feet...yes, a slave for me...that's exactly what Ann-Marie was learning to be.

When she finished up the pedicure, I inspected her handiwork and nodded with satisfaction. "It's time for bed now," I said. "You may join me tonight."

Fifteen minutes later, she came in, looking very sweet in a short pink flannel nightie. I was already under the covers. "Turn off the lights and come here," I told her.

She nervously complied. I could feel her lying expectantly inches away from me, not daring to caress me until I gave her a sign. I wanted to fuck with her mind, showing that only my desires counted, and I lay with my back turned toward her, acting as if I planned to go to sleep right away.

Only when Ann-Marie let out a long sigh of disappointment did my right hand slide smoothly, firmly beneath the covers to take hold of her inner thigh. She trembled and moved close to me. I responded by sliding my hand down further and then putting it slowly up her nightie. Caressing her inner thigh...leaning in close to kiss her neck...my fingers reaching until I felt those soft golden pubes of hers and her thoroughly engorged cunt lips pressing into me with an urgent need.

I pushed down the covers and forcefully pulled up her nightie. I switched on a bedside lamp so I could feast my eyes on my slave. Ann-Marie spread her thighs and I began to masturbate her in slow, deliberate circles. "Ohhhhhh God, it feels better than when I do it, Mistress," she gasped. "Oh God, I always wanted a woman to come to my room and put her hand up my nightie...now you're doing it to me..."

I bent forward and sucked one of those ripe nipples into my mouth as I'd been longing to do all evening. Every moment I pleasured this slave I gained power over her, and I knew it. Ann-Marie was almost crying with the intense pleasure I was giving her, thrusting her crotch up against my knowing fingers and leaving wet marks on the Egyptian cotton sheets.

Withdrawing my mouth, I deftly slid two fingers into her tight little cunt and began to finger her, putting my other arm around her and pushing her face into my breasts. I pushed up firmly against the roof of her soaked cunt and she let out a loud moan of shocked pleasure.

"Oh my fucking God!" she screamed, the sound echoing through the high-ceiling bedroom.

I was fucking my little Swedish bitch perfectly now. The sensation of power and control was unbelievable. I could smell the scent of my own thoroughly soaked cunt as I rubbed it hard against her porcelain thighs. She didn't deserve to come, though. Oh no. I was going to take Ann-Marie right to the brink and leave her begging. While she serviced me the way I wanted.

"In my fantasy, I'm the woman who comes to your room and puts my hand up your nightie," I told her in a low, lust-drenched voice. "I love forcing myself on a submissive 22-year-old cunt like you, Ann-Marie, and taking what I want. Do you know how your fantasy ends, Ann-Marie? Do you know what happens after the woman pulls up your nightie, sucks those slave tits of yours, and fingerfucks your wet cunt?"

"Oh God, please show me, Mistress!"

"This." I swiftly slid my fingers out of her cunt, sat up, slung my left leg over her young body, and straddled her face. Her moans vanished into a torrent of unrepressed licking as I took her by the hair and pushed her deep into my crotch, making her eat me out. "Lick me good, slave! Suck hard on my clit and drink my juices." I rode her face, bucking my hips and writhing in the centre of the bed with her underneath me.

When I was ready to climax, I ordered her to stick her tongue straight up and let me fuck it, as if I was using a new sex toy. And come to think of it, wasn't that exactly what I was doing with my little slave? The thought aroused me profoundly as I frigged off to an enormous climax, wiping my cunt hard on Ann-Marie's face. I rolled away, grabbing her tight, and eventually fell asleep with her tangled up in my limbs, her face still near where she'd been worshipping.

Morning would bring new surprises...

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