Dinner and a Show

[barelin]

Dinner and a Show
by Chessman
Part 1

It was one of those propitious events that one cannot predict but simply sits back and enjoys.

I’d come to my favorite diner in NJ, one where the Sopranos series had frequently filmed, and sat in my usual booth facing the door. I ordered my favorite meal of brisket of beef, French fried potatoes, and steamed broccoli, and I was enjoying my opener of lentil soup when two women walked in and settled into the booth diagonally across from me.

The older woman of the pair was pleasantly enough attired and appeared to have a serene attitude. Her much younger companion was as restless as a puppy needing a walk. She sat across from her companion but did not settle, constantly fidgeting and looking very uncomfortable. The girl, about twenty, was wearing heels and a button-down-the-front dress of silvery satin, and she appeared to be wearing nothing underneath the dress. Her C cup breasts pressed out of the fabric and erect pencil eraser nipples were evident.

I noticed the older woman coaching the girl. Using only hand signals, the girl was instructed first to spread her legs wider, then to cross her legs in such a way as to allow the dress, unbuttoned for two buttons from its hemline, to expose the young woman’s crotch. The only thing separating her vagina from worldwide exposure was a thin lacy thong panty, which the girl now flashed uncomfortably.

Following another hand signal, the young woman sat campfire style on the seat of their booth, feet and knees wide apart. She attempted to eat her soup and sandwich lin this position but was soon fidgeting again and her panty had developed an obvious wet spot.

Finally I could not resist. I stood and walked the short distance over to the older woman. Bending down I inquired in a low whisper if her young companion was an exhibitionist, a submissive, or a slave in training. The older woman smiled and with a finger motioned her companion to unbutton the top button of the silvery satin dress. In doing so the girl exposed a silver choker that was standing in for a true slave’s collar. The older woman explained her companion was in training and had not yet committed to full slave status; but, indeed was submissive.

I whispered a suggestion to the dominant woman, who smiled and readily agreed. The girl was instructed, again in sign only, to unbutton two more buttons, which brought the opening at the neck of her dress just below the bottom curve of her ample bosom. I was told the reason the girl was fidgeting was she had small ball vibrators, which the older woman remotely controlled, inserted in both her vagina and anus. This also explained the growing damp spot on the girl’s thong front.

Now, much to the embarrassment of the girl, she was instructed to remove the thong and hand it to me. By squirming on her seat she managed to remove the garment, which I sniffed and then placed into my sport coat pocket.

The older woman then reminded the girl what would happen if her dampness stained the satin dress she was wearing. Silent still, the girl simply nodded yes, and the older woman stepped up the vibrators to another level. Warned not to cum, the girl rose from the table to go and pay the bill for the meal the two women had just ate

The older womanI thanked me for being such a good audience by offering me one of her business cards and giving me an open invitation to drop by anytime. When she saw the dark damp spot on the rear of the girl's silvery satin dress, the older woman whispered, "If you stop by in an hour you can help me teach this wild thing what it means when I tell her not to soil her clothing."

* * *

[barelin]

The next hour found me walking the seven city blocks to the address printed on the business card the older woman had presented to me.

Timing my arrival so as to be within the minute of the appointed hour, I gently knocked on a door, in spite of the posted 'Closed' sign. The older woman opened the door to allow my entry. She then closed and locked the door and drew down the shades, which blocked all view of the interior from the street.

The shop was a thing of beauty and I expressed that observation to her. She in turn thanked me and went on to explain that everything I saw was designed from her mind to the finished product and that many women of wealth and status considered themselves honored to be made one of her 'by appointment only' clientele.

The woman was a talented jewelry, dress and gown designer. On two turntables in this outer shop were manikins dressed in upscale fashionable business attire and on a fixed raised dais stood representative evening gowns, and wedding dresses suitable for Modern Bride magazine.

The show case displays were of fine gold and silver jewelry. No two alike, as she prided herself as being able to give her clientele one of a kind fashion that the woman of taste could get nowhere else but in this shop.

I knew I was not there under invitation to shop, however, two sets of women’s cuff links and a bracelet caught my eye and I asked if they might be held aside for purchase when the owner was in the mood to conduct business.

As the shop was named 'Design By Camille', I politely asked if she was the Camille. She laughed, a mature and hearty laugh, and then said she had been so angry with her niece that she had neglected to introduce herself, and that indeed she was indeed the self same Camille.

When I informed her that I was Mark Chessman, she gasped and said she had read the stories I had authored for a certain web site and found them intriguing.

I then inquired as to the younger of the pair I had seen in the diner. Camille said we would soon join her, as she was involved with the staff and tied up in the workroom behind the showroom portion of the building. Camille also indicated the ‘child’ was her niece, Linda, whom she had raised from age eight following the loss of Linda’s parents in a fiery automobile crash. Linda was now nineteen, soon to be twenty, and had gone from a brightly focused National Honor Society high school over-achiever to a girl completely without focus, wasting her time and her aunt’s hard-earned money for three semesters of college at the Philadelphia Institute of Fashion and Design.

Linda, Camille’s heir apparent in the business, had been put on both academic and social probation by her school and was now serving a one semester suspension for running what amounted to a tavern out of her dorm room. On her return home from the college Linda had been placed under discipline by Camille. No boyfriends or girlfriends allowed, no drinking nor drugging, and for the next five months until the suspension was lifted, she had to work in her aunt’s shop and sewing floor as an apprenticed intern.

Camille had fashioned the silver choker necklace/collar for her niece to resemble the choke collars used to train dogs. A fine leather strap could be added by clipping it to the toggle ring of the collar. It was by means of this device that Camille maintained minute-by-minute control of her niece and insured that Linda was doing the tasks appointed in a manner that did not disappoint Camille or her customers.

Still, even with all of the layers of control in place, Linda had managed to attempt a display of temper by cutting an important client’s fabric incorrectly, costing her aunt several hundred dollars of fine silk, and by leaving a hot iron on the beaded bodice of a wedding gown due to be worn in three days. Her final rebellious act had been to use a bolt of velveteen as a masturbation mount, leaving her fluids embedded so deeply into the edge of the bolt that the wet stain penetrated through seven or more yards of material. Her aunt had caught Linda in the act and when Camille screamed at her, Linda stuck out her tongue and continued to ride the bolt to climax.

That was enough for Camille. She had two of her shop girls, who both worked the store and the back room as seamstresses, hold Linda down while Camille rammed vibrators into Linda’s vaginal and anal passages. The anal plug was removed twice a day so that Linda could move her bowels and bathe. The egg-like vaginal device had not been removed since it had been inserted. Camille kept the remote control for the two devices with her at all times and used the pitch intensity of the pair to control her niece’s attention span toward work, household chores and social interaction. The vibrating eggs could apparently give both pain and pleasure depending on the whim of the operator.

Camille had also instructed her niece that as it appeared she did not understand instructions given in plain English, all future communications between the aunt and niece would be non-verbal commands. By the evening I had bumped into the pair in the diner Linda had learned every nuance of the hand signals her aunt used to communicate. Yet, she had still not learned self-control. The soiling of the satin dress with her fluids proved that.

It was at this point that Camille offered me entry into the rear workroom area of her business. The shop had its beginnings as a dry cleaner. Certain aspects of that business had been left intact when Camille had taken the property over. One of those features was the overhead track that with a push of a button delivered clean garments to the area of the store where the paying customer could pick them up. Attached to that overhead device was one now-nude coed. Her wrists were fastened with leather cuffs and the handcuff chain was hooked onto the travel machinery. In its present location Linda's bare toes were just grazing the floor.

The two shop girls were stripped down to what appeared to be neoprene thongs and matching sandals. Camille informed me that this type of fetish wear was one of the ‘back room’ sales items that were even more popular than the everyday couture in the front of the shop. Leather and rubber wear outsold bridal gowns three to one, according to Camille. She introduced the shop girls as Amy and Emma. When their names were spoken each curtsied in my direction. They then returned to the misery they were inflicting upon Linda.

Her nude form was being slathered head to toe with the olive oil used to pack sliced scotch bonnet peppers. Camille informed me that once my portion of Linda’s night of discipline began, this unctuous anointing would prove efficacious in remediation of Linda’s behavior in the future.

My instruction was to make myself comfortable, and when ready to apply ten strokes of a switch to each of six targeted areas. Camille clarified that this would be a total of sixty lashes, ten in each area. Following the administration of this discipline I was to take Linda, brutally and without mercy, in any one of the three orifices available to me. I was not to stop until I was gratified.

I immediately removed my clothing, down to a pair of silk boxer briefs, and then tested the weight, length and flex of the cattle switch offered me for my use.

Amy and Emma had excused themselves to go and wash the peppery oil off of their hands. When they returned each had a Y shaped length of leather with small loops like that of a cowboy’s lariat on the longer ends. Handles graced the shorter ends. These loops were attached one each around Linda’s ankles, then Emma and Amy began walking away from each other until Linda was stretched fully open at the hips, her own body forming an inverted Y. The shop girls were holding tight when I began my portion of the punishment.

Ten lashes each to buttocks, shoulders, breasts, thighs, soles of feet and genitals. Camille had not specified the order of the lashes, just the areas to be flogged. I chose to begin at the shoulders. I asked Camille if Linda’s vow of silence was lifted for punishment and I would like to hear her do the count. Camille told me no, and ball gagged her niece, as she feared the neighbors would be alarmed to hear the screams coming from the disgraced coed. Camille agreed to keep the count.

Standing to Linda’s left I began applying the whip to her right shoulder. I managed to lay five stripes from shoulder to the lowest portion of shoulder blade without overlapping once. I then moved to Linda’s right side and began again, this time using backhand strokes to lay matching patterns of welts on the left shoulder. Linda was in tears and I could see the efficacy of the pepper oil as it seeped into the raw welts.

I motioned to the girls to walk toward me and this lifted Linda so her cuffed hands were supporting her upper body while the soles of her feet were exposed to me. From ball to heel each foot received five lashes. Linda looked as if she would pass out, but her aunt prevented that by taking Linda’s nipples in her hands and pinching them hard enough to make the girl scream behind her ball gag.

I moved to the buttocks for the next target area. I simply laid the switch over both cheeks for five strokes from the left and then moved to the right to repeat the punishment five more times. This time however I allowed myself to criss cross my strokes so that Linda’s buttocks were covered by a series of X-like welts.

Amy and Emma moved further apart, thus opening Linda’s inner thighs to me, and I began administering punishment to that area next. Using only the very tip of the switch, I cut fine lines in each inner thigh from crotch to knee, never once overlapping a stroke.

So as to give the genital punishment more meaning I did not do that while in the area of the thighs, rather I moved myself up to Linda’s 34 C breasts and laid into them by five swift strokes on the upper surface and then five slower strokes from below.

I waited then, with Camille’s permission, both to give my arms a rest and to allow the pain to absorb into Linda’s flesh along with the constant irritant of the peppery oil now mixing with her sweat and running into her wounds.

I had already decided to take the girl anally when I finished her whip punishment. I therefore showed her labia, clitoris and vulva no mercy when I rained down ten lashes directly into the vee of her reproductive valley.

My erection, now a full eight inches long and three solid inches round was ready to penetrate the punished girl and I so told her aunt. Camille told Emma to lubricate Linda for penetration. Emma did so by pouring more of the peppery olive oil onto Linda’s already raw behind and then thrusting two fingers coated with the oils into Linda’s rosebud opening. She stepped away as I stepped up. Linda’s hands were released from the overhead device and then she was bent over a worktable and her hands resecured to its legs. Her feet were similarly secured to the other legs on the table. He bottom was angled at a perfect height for the deed I was to do and I plunged in.

I thrust viciously, hammering my piston like organ in and out of her rear hole until I heard her gasping in a combination of pain and sexual completion. I informed Camille that the girl appeared to be enjoying her punishment too much. Camille laughed and told her niece that she was nothing more than a slutty slave to be used and abused be whomever whenever and that would be her status until she learned to abide by all of her aunt’s rules all of the time without question or hesitation. As I emptied myself into the girl’s rectum, her aunt asked her again did she clearly understand what she was and what she needed to do to grow beyond the status she herself had imposed.

Linda nodded yes. Her aunt removed the ball gag and said tell me what you are. Linda told her aunt she was her aunt’s slutty slave until such time as she had proved herself to be otherwise.

Her aunt then collared Linda officially, with a hammered silver collar that locked into place around the girl’s neck.

What came next for Linda and what I observed on my subsequent visits to Camille’s shop are tales for another day.

End of part 1

[barelin]

Dinner and a Show
by Chessman
Finale

BRUNCH WITH LINDA AND CAMILLE

I had waited two days before venturing back to Design By Camille. My encounter with Linda having taken place late on Saturday, and other business kept me away on both the Sunday and Monday, I returned to the shop hoping the jewelry I has set aside was still unsold.

The bell on the door, advising those working in the rear that a customer had arrived, chirped a bright high pitched tune as I entered. Emma appeared through the curtain-covered archway that led to the shop’s rear. Her attire did not vary much from the last time I had seen her and her co-worker Amy; a neoprene thong bottom and a bandeau top in the same material but a bright green in contrast to the black of the bottom.

Emma smiled when she saw me and told me that Camille had been expecting my return visit. The items I had selected earlier, prior to Linda’s disciplinary session, were in the shop safe awaiting my return for them.

Emma called back to Camille, stating interestingly enough, “Mistress, your gentleman friend is here,” and with that phrase alerting me to the fact that both Emma and Amy were submissives to Camille and not merely work subordinates.

Camille made her appearance in a stylishly cut business suit, beautifully crafted in what appeared to be several layers of opaque material, in a mauve color that was almost as dark as Camille’s skin tone. She smiled and bent to open the shop’s safe and in so doing allowed her skirt to creep up the back of her thighs in such a way that my eyes could not miss the fact she was either “sans culottes” as the French would say or wearing a flesh colored thong beneath the suit.

My manhood stirred at the possibility of either prospect. She rose, not bothering to tug the skirt down, and laid the three selections I had made out on the velvet mat atop her counter.

As I looked at the items I smiled, I should have been aware just from these items that there was a secret business beyond the public one represented by the fifteen feet of shop space in the front of the store.

The first item, a pair of cuff links, was made to appear to be a replica of an ancient coin of Greece or perhaps Persia. On close examination, though, the form of an adult female in fetal position and sucking the thumb of one hand became obvious. Crafted in silver, the links also had traces of gold vermeil where the hair on the woman’s head and pubis were etched. I found the pieces to be subtlety erotic, yet wearable as art and functional as jewelry. There was a woman in my life for which these were destined.

The second item was also a cuff link set. These were of the type that has a straight metal bar passing through the French cuff opening of a shirt and then jeweled studs at the ends of the bar. This type usually also has a safety chain linking the end caps so that if an end cap slips loose the entire link is not lost. The end caps linked by a chain in this set were small feet. The subtle message sent by the piece to those in the life style was a submissive’s spreader bar. Again this would only be obvious on extremely close examination. Camille mentioned as I was looking at this set that several of her clients had purchased this item as a three piece set.

When I screwed my face in non-comprehension, Camille called Amy out of the back and told her to strip. With a, “Yes, mistress,” Amy removed her outfit, which was the reverse of Emma’s, having a black bandeau top and bright lime green bottoms. There, piercing her nipples and clitoris hood, were pieces similar to the ones I had chosen for cuff links. The light of understanding finally blinked on over my head and Camille dismissed Amy. The young girl left, nude, her neoprene outfit still lying on the floor. Camille merely mentioned as an aside, “I had not given her permission to dress. She will not until I tell her I allow it.” I ordered a matching piece to be made to complete my purchase as a proper set.

The last piece I had admired and intended to purchase was a necklace of wrought and hammered silver. A hidden hinge and a secure snap closure made it obvious to those in the life style that this was a submissive/slave collar. What had especiallyattracted me to it was the acid etching work on its outside. The neck collar had to be at least three quarters of an inch wide and was a heavy weight of silver. The etched relief art work on the collar was that of a woman lying down on her back with her head propped up on the hand at the end of an arm which had its elbow where the floor would be and whose bottom leg was outstretched while the upper one was slightly bent and elevated so that the woman’s sex was exposed. This theme was repeated around the eighteen inches of collar and in each of the iconic woman’s pubic regions was set a different semi-precious stone. Camille told me there were twelve images (I later checked this myself and counted twelve) and that each stone was a birthstone for one of the twelve signs of the zodiac. A slave's master or mistress could customize the neck collar with any one stone celebrating either the submissive’s birth month or the month in which she was collared. With that last remark Camille summoned Linda from the rear of the store.

“Show Master Mark your collar, Linda,” Camille ordered her niece, now her submissive/slave. Opening the top buttons of her blouse, Linda approached me. Camille stopped her and corrected her with the words, “How do we properly display merchandise in this shop, Linda?”

The coed stopped as if she were on a leash, which in fact she was, albeit a mental one, and finished unbuttoning the blouse and removed it. A glance at her aunt showed this was not enough and her cheer style shorts and the thong beneath them followed the blouse to the floor. Linda then walked up to me and presented the collar for my inspection. Hers showed the female repeatedly on her stomach with her knees bent so that her bottom was presented. A small amethyst was set into the cleft of each bottom crease. I noted to myself that the month was, indeed February and the stone for that month is amethyst. Linda had been officially collared following my participation in her discipline. I wondered to myself if I had chosen a different orifice in which to penetrate her that night if the collar design would now be different.

Camille dismissed her niece and just as Amy had done she retreated to the rear of the store nude. She also had not been given permission to dress herself.

I purchased the two sets of links (I would take the second set when the last piece for it was created), and placed the small box with the first pair into my pocket. While I had someone special in mind for the neck collar, I wanted it to be fitted on her while she was present within Camille’s shop. I told Camille I would be waiting until then but to reserve a blank, without set stones, with the etchings being a woman on her knees in the position assumed to please a man orally. Camille smiled and agreed to start the work on that project upon her completion of three special orders that were now in the works in the shop.

Business concluded, I was invited to the rear of the shop for a light brunch. Emma was preparing crepes and omelets in the small but well-appointed kitchen. She would serve us while Linda and Amy acted as our tables. Both girls were informed that should any of our food or beverage spill due to the girls not being good furniture, severe discipline would follow. Linda, who was to be my table, went as rigid and unmoving as if she were carved oak. Judging from the barely healing welts I had left on her boys two days before, she had no desire for a repeat of that lashing.

Emma, who was now wearing a French maid’s apron and nothing else, served my plate of crepes and a fluffy omelet with a delightful cheese melted into it. Emma returned seconds later with a chilled champagne flute. Putting the warm plate into the center of Linda’s back, I then placed the champagne flute on one of the cross hatched welts on her buttock. The temperature change and the sensitivity of her bottom caused her to shudder. Despite this nothing spilled. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I was looking with anticipation to having this minx back on a flogging rack in the near future.

Amy did not make out as well with her mistress. To be fair, Camille tortured the young woman while she ate. I watched as while sipping her champagne with one hand she dipped the other under her ‘table’ to play with its breasts and pinch its nipples. She then tried to find a way to tuck he napkin securely into the cleft of Amy’s bottom, brushing her vagina each time. The girl finally gave in to arousal and shook so hard the plate and flatware on it fell to the shop floor. Fortunately nothing broke.

Camille looked the girl in the eye and told her she was fortunate on three counts. First, Camille had just made a large sale to Master Mark and was therefore in a good mood. Second, her plate was empty and did not break when it fell to the floor and Camille had been holding her flute of sparkling wine when Amy shuddered. Lastly, Camille was in the mood for some bare handed spanking so fifty swats with a bare hand would be Amy’s punishment.

The outer shop bell rang before that session could begin. Camille rose, straightened herself out and exited to deal with her customers. Amy waited, having assumed first position and knowing if she broke it for any reason her punishment would be doubled.

[barelin]

THE MID MORNING SNACK

The intercom between the shop front and the workroom floor buzzed, and Emma speedily answered it, “Yes, ma’am?”

“Tell the girls to tidy up, the Channahon bridal party is here for their fittings,” Camille’s voice sang pleasantly over the speaker, “oh, and tell Mister Chessman to wait, my business with him is not yet completed.”

“Mistress says tidy up. Amy, your discipline shall wait until the Channahon party leaves. The one-piece jumpers are in the closet. Linda, please get three and let’s ready ourselves for business.” Emma had taken charge. I was later to find out that she was the first under Camille’s discipline and was therefore considered to be first girl when Camille was not present. I wondered what business it was that Camille and I had not completed, so I sipped my wine and waited for the bridal party to enter the workshop. Perhaps Camille would have a moment to discuss the matter while the party was being fitted.

Linda slipped the sleeveless one-piece dress over her head and still bare foot, went to the larger client closet off of the workroom and brought out the rolling garment rack labeled Channahon. I was amazed to see what looked to be twenty formal dresses and one additional bridal gown that from the beadwork alone must have cost a normal person’s yearly salary.

Amy and Emma took positions, one at each end of the rack, and when the party began to file into the workroom curtsied to the woman whom must be the mother of the bride and then again to the younger woman who must be the bride herself.

I should have known from the name, but seeing the face that had graced the cover of every publication from US Weekly to Women’s Fitness, I immediately recognized Marie Channahon as one of the power elite within the state and an absolute power in this county.

“As well trained as I remember your help, Camille,” the woman commented. She then turned to look at Linda, who had not made a move to show subservience to the Channahon party. “Who might this little slut be, Camille?”

“My niece and ward, Linda, she is staying with me for a semester to learn the business and expects to return to Fashion Institute of Philadelphia in the Fall, Marie.” Camille quickly put her niece in a slightly higher status than her employees, thus explaining Linda’s perceived breech of protocol.

“Oh, she’s lovely, may I see her properly attired as well as your two girls?” Marie asked in a tone that made me aware that she and Camille shared a bond beyond designer and consumer.

“For this fitting, I believe so, Marie,” Camille responded. Clapping her hands three times and motioning with her finger, Camille mimed shoulder straps shrugged off and three jumper dresses fell at three young pairs of feet.

“Lovely, absolutely lovely. Now who is this male in our presence, Camille, another one of your employees?” Marie asked.

“No, this is the writer I told you about, I think you’ve read some of his works. Marie, this is Mark Chessman. Mark, I’m pleased to introduce Marie Channahon and her daughter Margaret.” Camille stepped aside as I took the two steps needed to close the gap between the stately Marie and taking her hand in mine I kissed her wrist both on the upper and under sides and finished with a light kiss on the palm of her hand.

To say she giggled like a school girl would be an understatement, whether her delight was in the greeting or realizing she was looking at the person who had brought her pleasure in the written words I had produced I could not yet tell. Marie then presented her daughter Margaret to me. To my surprise, Margaret curtsied to me as I kissed only the back of her hand.

The rest of the bridal party held back while this was happening, unsure as to how to proceed. Marie brought that hesitation to a quick end. ”Girls, Camille charges by the hour, I may be rich but I am not foolish. Strip off and find your dresses so these seamstresses may properly fit you.”

At her words, all twenty attendants began removing and stacking their garments until they were all nude and at the garment rack searching for their gowns.

The oldest woman in the bridal party other than the mother of the bride was Margaret’s Matron of Honor. Martha Channahon-Smythe was at least seven months pregnant with twins (as I was later told by Emma), who was busily tending to Martha’s needs.

Camille saw that the three girls were handling the crowd of women quite well, and after offering Marie a flute of champagne, walked over to me. “Marie is a Dom, as you may have deduced,” Camille began, ”and her two daughters are learning to take that role on now that they are starting families of their own.”

“The bridal party is cousins and girlfriends of the bride. The two wee ones over there,” Camille nodded in the direction of a group of four tweens, two much less developed than the slightly older girls with them, ”are the daughters of Aaron Channahon, Marie’s only son. The older two tweens are the Garibaldi girls. Marie has raised them from the time they were six and almost five respectfully after her sister Bernice was killed with her husband Armando in a private plane crash. Marie has never allowed any of her children, including the Garibaldi girls, to wear a stitch of clothing in the Channahon mansion. Whatever season, whatever visitors or company may be present, the girls and Aaron were nude. A healthy attitude I would have adopted for my own children, if I had been blessed with any. Linda arrived on my doorstep too well formed by her late parents for me to adopt that style of parenting. However; this rebellious period at college has given me the opportunity to show her what a disciplined life can be.” Marie smiled as she watched her niece and the other two shop girls go about the fittings.

The reason for the bridal party starting in bare skin became obvious to me as I watched each layer be applied to each woman present. Corsets and panties specially designed to fit into and remain hidden under the gowns were being fitted to each girl. Stockings and garters to match were also in the ensemble. Of course the dresses were simply elegant, and then dyed-to-match shoes and shawl-type wraps were perfectly blended into each girl’s outfit. Jewelry was also provided and was understated perfectly to the outfit. A solitaire pendant necklace, a matching tennis bracelet and a wristwatch with a strap dyed to match the gown were all the girls needed to accent the beautiful dresses.

Marie Channahon had expected Camille to attend to her personally, yet Linda working to clothe her seemed to satisfy her very well. The fact that Marie kept slipping her hand between Linda’s legs and then lifting her fingers to her nose and mouth was not lost on my attention either. I expected Camille’s niece and the two shop girls would be paying attention of a different kind to this bridal party as soon as the wedding day garments were off and hung away.

“This wedding is in three weeks, Mark,” Camille said to me in low voice, “Linda will help me dress the wedding party on that day. My problem is once the event is over, Linda needs to get back to school or she will lose her enrolment. I have arranged for her to attend both summer sessions to make up the work from this semester, and she’ll be back on track with her class for the Fall term. I do not want her living in the dorm any longer and I don’t want her out on her own either. Would you be willing to take her into your house and keep a short leash on her?”

“Camille, I’ll keep her collared and leashed and naked at my feet if that is what you want. When I’m not at home I’m sure Greta will also take an interest in her care and discipline.” My response was toned neutrally, but, I could sense that Camille was excited by the prospect of Greta, my long time companion/lesbian roommate being there to assure Linda was not allowed to slack off into the ways that had led to her suspension.

“Very well, in five weeks, she will be all yours. Amy will drive her down to your townhouse. I do not want her to have an automobile at her disposal just yet. Will that make it difficult for you or Greta?” Camille asked.

“No, I write, so my schedule is flexible. If I’m busy on deadline, Greta can drive her to campus and pick her up when she is finished for the day. I’m guessing, though, that if she passes this probationary period some of your restrictions will be lifted?”

“We’ll see. Amy doesn’t know it yet, but I’m leaving her discipline for today’s accident in your hands and your time. I would think she will be sufficiently nervous about delivering Linda to you if we do nothing about it until then.” Camille smiled and walked back to the wedding party, most of whom were again nude or mostly so. I noticed Camille paying particularly close attention, hands on attention, to the Garibaldi sisters. Where that might be leading was between Marie Channahon and Camille, although neither of the girls seemed too upset by the petting caresses they were receiving.

BANQUETING AT THE RECEPTION

It was short notice, but I was pleased when Camille called me four days before the Margaret Channahon wedding to tell me her invitation was a ‘Plus One” and she wished for me to be the one.

Amy and Emma, along with Linda, Camille’s niece, would be working the wedding and reception as the bridal party dressers. There were three changes of clothing for the bride and two for the remainder of the bridal party. All in all, dressing the party and the changes would be a full days work for the three assistants. Camille would make sure all garments and accessories were delivered to the hall where the event was to take place. She then would be free to attend the ceremony and the reception with a companion. She had chosen me to be that companion.

I looked over at Greta who was clad only in the three-piece stud and bar set I’d chosen for her on my initial visit to Camille’s shop, and I told her of Camille’s invitation. The smile on Greta’s face was priceless. Her words then were, “And then we get the niece as a live in and that assistant to discipline, how lovely, go and enjoy yourself and be sure to bring me a present.”

Greta was the perfect roommate. She wanted the taste of a master’s whip and the disciplined life of a subservient; however, her traits were pure dominatrix when it concerned women. She had sex with me because she ‘had to’. She dominated, seduced and consumed women because she wanted to. To that end I never concerned myself with her sexual satisfaction. She was there to please me. Totally and without reserve she was there to please and serve me. What she needed she could get elsewhere form someone else it mattered not. She wore my collar and she now wore my piercings where once she wore jewelry of her own choosing. I was quite clear that anything the ‘cat’ brought home was also mine to play with. The variety was endless and her taste in women eclectic.

Camille had requested I wear a white dinner jacket and formal trousers, and then asked my size shirt. I told her and she said she would have one made up for me as a special gift and would give it to me when I arrived to pick her up at her shop.

Carrying my formal gear in a garment bag, I arrived wearing cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt and sandals. The day had dawned in the upper seventies and had progressed to almost ninety by mid afternoon. We had had such heat waves in mid April before, but this one had come in and lay on the area for the past three days. The wedding day was not only hot but humid. I hoped Camille’s creations would hold up through the afternoon and evening events the mother of the bride had planned.

When I saw the shirt I almost let out an audible gasp. Pearl gray, with tuck pleated front and stiff formal wing tip collar, it matched the gown Camille had fashioned for herself exactly. She had used the same fabric to create both garments and she confessed to me she had made a thong for herself from the same material and was wearing it beneath the gown. (It was obvious there was no bra beneath the bodice of her dress.) She had also made me pewter shirt studs and cuff links for the shirt. Up close you could tell they represented a young woman’s upturned bottom. A small garnet was mounted in the cleft of the cheeks. These devices, almost a perfect match to Linda’s collar, were an eerie way of linking me to her. If this was symbolic of turning the niece over to my discipline formally, Camille made no mention of it.

We arrived at the hall and were seated on the bride’s side of the facility where the ceremony was to be held. Camille had done a marvelous job on the gowns all the women in the wedding, from the eight year old flower girls to the mother of the bride all were elegantly attired and accessorized and walked the aisle as beautifully as runway models.

The usual readings, the exchanging of vows, and legal promises were made. Then the clergywoman who was officiating turned to the assembled audience and shed her clerical robe.

Camille whispered to me, “She is the ministerial head of the Church of The Sky Clad Goddess. I’m surprised she went this far into the ceremony before this happened.” I was not, therefore shocked to see the spiritual advisor of the couple standing in nothing more than a g-string and a full body suit of tattoos.

The nearly nude woman proceeded with the ceremony, “As is our tradition in the Church, a woman presenting herself for marriage is presumed to have a pre-nuptial agreement which states she will bring nothing paid for by her parents be it money, clothing, jewelry or clothing into her new marriage or home. Margaret, are you sullied by any such thing today and do you in the presence of these witnesses wish to purify yourself before finalizing your vows with your husband to be?”

Turning to the assembled audience, Margaret spoke clearly and without a trace of nerves. “I have accepted gifts from my parents in the form of this veil,” she handed it off to her sister, the maid of honor. “Also these gloves,” she peeled the pearl-buttoned elbow high gloves off and handed them to a flower girl. Now would come the commitment, ”Also this gown,” her mother Maria Channahon stepped forward and unbuttoned the seven pearl buttons down her daughter’s back. Margaret then stepped out of the gown and her mother took it from her. High heel shoes, garter belt and thigh high sheer hosiery were all that remained. Margaret kicked off her shoes, “These as well,” she said as she handed them to her other flower girl. “My husband to be gave me these rings, this necklace, this garter belt and these hose. If he now wants them back I shall give them gladly and our relationship will end here today. If he allows me to keep that which he has given me I promise to serve and nurture him from this day forth.”

Todd Dunphy wisely stated to the congregation and to his intended wife, “I honor you with all I have given, and I give you my heart as well. I pledge that your possessions shall increase and our love will continue to grow.”

The minister pronounced them husband and wife. The bridal party filed out and the bride and groom entered an adjoining door into the reception hall where they formed the traditional greeting line with their parents.

I felt nothing could shock me after this point. The reception proved me to be mistaken. My expectation had been the bride would be clothing herself at the end of the ceremony in preparation for an evening of dining and dancing. Dine and dance she did, but get clothed? Not a stitch more than the garter belt and hose she wore down the aisle as Mrs. Todd Dunphy. In fact, as the night wore on and the hose took runs in them, she removed them.

Before that, the presentation of the wedding party occurred as the master of ceremonies introduced the party in reverse order, beginning with the flower girls. No one in the reception hall appeared to be shocked as the eight year olds entered the hall nude except for well applied latex body paint in a shade of blue that was perfect for their skin tone. A bikini bottom had been stylized onto each of them and matching flowers adorned their head curls.

The two junior bridesmaids, the Garibaldi girls, were next entering the room. They were also nude, except no body paint was applied to them. They wore crowns of plaited flowers on their heads and each had a garter on one thigh with flowers inserted beneath the garter holding the flower stems. If either of them had begun to grow pubic hair, there was none in evidence on either. They were smooth over their entire bodies. (I later learned that the garter and flowers, as well as the body painted bikini bottoms on the younger children, were meant as signals that the girls were virgins and were not to be touched beyond kissing and caressing them.)

The bridesmaids entered wearing only their headpieces and carrying their bouquets. Two of them wore garters similar to those worn by the Garibaldi girls. The ushers/companions with them wore thongs made of the same material as my shirt and Camille’s gown.

When the very pregnant matron of honor, Margaret’s sister, entered, the room gasped. Martha was draped in a knee length, button-less vest, her head piece and flowers being worn by her eighteen month old daughter Charlotte. Charlotte was wearing nothing else and was the youngest nude in the hall.

It was then that the master of ceremonies invited the assembled guests who wished to do so to ‘join the bridal party in more comfortable attire.”

Camille was down to her g-string and heels in less than fifteen seconds. Two buttons on her bodice when opened gave her the ability to simply puddle the fabric at her feet and step out of it. I was a bit longer in getting down to ‘proper attire’. I noticed the parents of the bride and groom had joined the wedding party with both mothers wearing not a stitch. The fathers looked as if the gym had been regularly visited by both of them for a few months prior to the wedding.

Margaret and Todd danced their first dance and it was obvious to everyone that Todd had become aroused by it. His erection had to have been a good eight inches long when the music finished playing. Spoons were banging on water glasses as the guests noticed the groom’s arousal. Instead of the usual kiss, traditional at such moments, Todd bent his bride over a chair back and proceeded to penetrate her. The cheering of the guests was loud enough to drown out the moans Margaret made as she was worked to her first orgasm of her married life.

The dance with her father in law ended with him having her as well. When her father danced with her he chose to orally bring his daughter to orgasm, as did the groom’s mother and Margaret’s sister Marie.

The lucky bachelor who caught the garter belt Margaret had been wearing since the wedding ceremony also was offered his choice of satisfaction with the lucky bridesmaid who had caught Margaret’s bouquet.

Todd positively glowed when it was announced that it was time for Margaret’s first paddling as a married woman. He sat in a straight-backed chair and took his bride over his knees. With a flat bare hand he spared nothing as he slapped her bare bottom twenty-two times. She spent the rest of the night walking from table to table greeting her guests and showing off her well used vulva and her well abused rear end.

I watched as Todd’s father took Marie and Todd’s mother similarly was welcomed into the family by Marie’s husband. I of course had taken Camille soon after we removed our clothing and was now eyeing s particularly gorgeous red head with a fiery red patch of pubic hair and freckles head to foot. I learned she was Todd Dunphy’s cousin Edna, was twenty-seven, single and quite submissive. Camille seemed to know everything about everyone. Much better, I thought, to be Camille’s friend than her enemy.

I had only just finished a pleasurable if not leisurely bout of sex with Edna when the master of ceremonies announced, “You don’t have to go home, but you cannot stay here.”

Camille and I dressed, I drove her back to the shop and we said our good-byes. I would be seeing Amy and Linda in less than two weeks. I could not wait.

AN ORDER OF LINDA TO GO

We changed plans slightly. Amy, who was to have driven Linda to my town house just outside of Philadelphia, was needed in the shop due to a particularly expensive rush job, so Greta and I traveled back to the city to pick Linda up and to complete my business with Amy. We walked through the shop door and Camille was behind the counter speaking to a woman who was looking at jewelry.

“These will work perfectly for your daughter’s Prom, Agnes. Linked together they are as secure as a chastity belt and far more comfortable for the woman wearing them.” Camille sealed the deal of the sale and the woman left the shop with a small bag of very expensive body jewelry.

“Agnes has a sixteen year old who is going to Prom this weekend. The girl has already had her labia pierced six times and has studs in the holes now. Agnes just bought three sets of bars, which she will use to close over the labia and make vaginal intercourse impossible. That was the only way she agreed to let the girl go to Prom with the boy who asked her out. He is a varsity letterman in three sports and his fourth sport seems to be bedding junior varsity cheerleaders.” Camille smiled and then said, “Agnes is not ready to be a grandmother, but I suppose her daughter’s anus and mouth are not off limits.”

Mental images of my own Prom nights came forth and I realized that Agnes was probably a wise mother. I had dated the same girl throughout high school. Roberta was a tall, underdeveloped red head with freckles everywhere, still to this day my favorite body type, and our hormone addled brains thought we were in love. She was a sophomore when I took her to my junior prom. We both lost our virginity that night. The night of her junior prom, I as a senior escorted her and after the dinner and dancing I had her anally for the first time. A week later she and I took a room together and after only a brief appearance at it for pictures, spent the rest of the weekend in that room in every position two people could possibly get into sexually.

The night of her senior prom, I dined and danced with her; however, as a college freshman away at school I came home to find she had been with another boy from her graduating class and was four months pregnant. She hadn’t started to show yet and would graduate in two weeks with the secret still in place. She was marrying the boy right after graduation. “Yes,” I thought, “Agnes was a very wise woman indeed.”

To Camille I said, “Camille, this is my companion, Greta,” Greta curtseyed and Camille offered a hand for her to kiss.

“Greta very much likes the jewelry you created for her, and I would like for the final offering to be readied for wear today if you please.” I said to Camille following the introductions.

Camille nodded and led us to the rear of the shop. Amy and Emma were busy at a cutting table with patterns on top of fabric preparing the cloth beneath for cutting. Both were wearing neoprene cheer shorts and matching halter-tops. Camille’s niece Linda was wearing a simple cotton pleated micro mini skirt and matching halter-top. Simple in that the pleats hid the fact the material was sheer and with every move the coed made brief flashes of her bottom and vaginal region came to light. The halter of the same sheer fabric showed off her areolas and eraser pointed nipples quite clearly. They were exposed so clearly that the rings through her nipples were perfectly visible. Her collar was holding up the front of the halter-top. The small hem in the halter fabric had been run through the collar making a part of the top itself.

“Very interesting design,” I mentioned to Camille, looking at her niece.

“This is the rush order we are working to complete, Mark,” Camille told me, ”There is an in-water boat show in Atlantic City in a few weeks and one of the casinos has commissioned these outfits for the show girls to wear while they model on and around the boats. Linda is wearing the prototype. The casino executives should be here in twenty minutes to grant final approval and from then it is a rush to complete the fifty costumes and the matching pasties and g-strings the law requires the models to have on under such sheer wear.”

“So we shall wait until after the casino people leave before we take Linda back with us,” I stated. “And I shall discipline Amy at your convenience.”

“Actually, I would like you to do that as part of the entertainment for the executives, Mark,” Camille whispered, “This casino specializes in hiring submissive females for their floor staff and entertainers. I think a showing of people of like mind might cement this business deal.”

Camille opened her jewelry safe withdrew a velvet pouch containing the collar I had selected for Greta. Telling her to submit herself, Greta removed the simple dress she was wearing and was immediately naked. She knelt before me and in the presence of witnesses, Camille and the three girls, offered this statement, “Master Mark, I freely and willingly accept my position as your submissive and accept this collar as a symbol of my status in your household until such time as you release me from it.”

With that I removed the leather buckle-on collar that we had used for several years from her neck and replaced it with the permanent locking silver one. I noted that the mouth of the woman depicted upon the collar had a London blue topaz set into each of the twelve icons. The new silver collar went beautifully against Greta’s deeply olive tanned skin and complimented the three bars she wore in her nipples and clitoris hood.

I gave her permission to don her dress again and she quickly snapped shut the front panel after lifting it off the floor. I told Camille I wanted a similar dress made for Greta as she was now wearing but in the fabric that the girls were working with for the casino contract. Taking my wallet from my pocket I put a deposit down on the garment.

Greta is a shade less than six feet tall, and is a very athletically firm, dress size fourteen. Her hair falls to her mid back when unpinned and as I have said previously, she prefers women to men and has sex only with me as she became my submissive well before she decided that munching carpet was more fun than sucking dick.

As my number one girl in residence she had full power over any other submissive I brought into the house and I had given her permission to bring home her own conquests, with the proviso that I would have access to any woman who darkened my doorstep. Most of her companions tended to be unhappily married women who went both ways in bed and eagerly submitted to the both of us.

Greta had come to me when she was a graduate intern, doing the semester of work experience required for her degree in the firm that publishes my novels and short stories. She was to edit the proofs of my fourth novel. She read the first three books as a requirements to understand my style and content, and after reading chapter three of the new book, 'Flames and Embers' she had quietly told me that she had the same desires to submit to a dominant male as the female protagonist had expressed in her dream sequence that occupied most of that chapter.

I had told her it could be arranged. If she stripped naked there and then and went to her knees begging for my dominance in her life. The rest as they say is written history. I married her for the simple reason of insuring my assets would pass to her should I die first and to give us each the ability to care for the other in case of a medical emergency. Soon after she submitted to me we learned that a childhood illness had left her sterile. We had no children, yet the lifestyle we lead would have made children problematical anyway.

We have been together for twelve years and she has edited my last five novels. (I try to get one out every eighteen months or so.) Often she will sit, nude and fresh from love making, on a burgundy plush towel, campfire style at my feet, with the pages I have written that day and a red pencil, a blue pencil and yellow highlighter and work on my manuscript while I hack away on the next chapters on the computer. I consider our life together full and richly rewarding. She has told me in words and deeds this is the life she craved and she is happiest when serving me. At thirty-four she is a raving beauty and would make a doting mother. I am going to suggest adoption after my next book is published.

This reverie had taken place while Camille answered the door and spoke with her clients in the outer shop. She’d locked the front door and hung a “Closed For Private Fittings” sign on it then escorted her guests to the rear workroom.

They seated themselves in five wing back leather chairs and listened intently to the presentation of Camille’s designs and conceptual ideas for the boat show costuming. Three of the executives were men. Aged mid forties to early fifties and wearing suits appropriate to the season, they sat and listened almost bored by having to be there. The older woman executive was the casino’s event planner. It was she who would have to deal with the fifty young women parading about the yachts, boats and dinghies in the costumes Camille was creating. The last woman, much younger than the rest, was the casino choreographer. Apparently there was some dance routines the showgirls would be performing as part of the boat show. She had to be sure that the outfits were dance ready and would move with the girls as they performed.

Amy and Emma came forward first to show the ‘working costume’ of cheer shorts and halter-top to the five casino representatives. They were asked to bend, stretch, do a leg kick or two, pirouette and do several other moves before the event planner and choreographer were satisfied and approved those outfits for the showgirls who would be dancing.

Linda came out next wearing the pleated skirt and halter-top ensemble, but now with pasties and a thong added. This would be the greeter/hostess outfit and Linda was also wearing four-inch heels to show the executives how the outfit moved with a woman in heels wearing it. She went through the activities of serving drinks, doing the waitress knee bend and carrying a tray back and forth. She stood behind a lectern, sat in a chair and generally showed the outfit off for a working costume. Linda’s prototype was white. The younger of the men asked if the same fabric was available in yellow and teal, the casino’s corporate colors, and if several interchangeable outfits could be made, so that a girl could have a teal top and yellow skirt for the morning and reverse the color scheme for the afternoon. The casino also wanted the same outfit done in a black satin for the after dark activities at the boat show.

Camille had already taken these possibilities in consideration and Amy and Emma quickly peeled out of their cheer short outfits, in front of the executives, and donned skirts and tops identical to the one Linda wore, save for the teal and gold motif.

The deal was sealed and Camille asked the five to stay for some special entertainment. Linda went to the left side of the workroom, brought back a barstool with a padded seat and back but no arms and set it in front of the five chairs.

I went and sat on the bar stool and waited while Camille told the five, “One of my girls has performed less than satisfactorily and is to be punished. If you wish you may witness her discipline.” None of the five moved.

Amy, on cue, came to stand beside me and disrobed. “I spilled my mistress’ lunch plate and I am to receive fifty hand delivered slaps on my bare bottom. Mr. Chessman shall administer my punishment,” Amy recited to the group. She then crawled onto my lap and presented for punishment nicely.

“Count for me, and for every stroke you miss count on you get two additional,” I commanded.

She did not miss a single count, from “One thank you, Sir,” to “Fifty, thank you, Sir”. She also held back her tears until she was dismissed. From inside the rest room with the door closed her sobbing was almost as loud as if she was in the same room.

I motioned Greta to go and care for and comfort Amy. The sounds coming from the rest room soon changed from wails to moans, and the moans were of pleasure, not pain.

Several minutes later, just before the deals having been signed and the executives being ready to leave the shop, Greta brought Amy out for the final portion of her punishment, her display. Amy stood; hands behind her head and posture perfectly erect and slowly turned so that her posterior was on display for inspection. Asking permission to speak, Greta said, ”My Master has done admirable work, see how already the buttocks are turning from red to purple! This girl will be magnificently bruised for several weeks.”

With that she returned to my side. I could smell the scent of Amy’s vaginal fluids on Greta’s breath. I would have to take action over that. I had told her to care and comfort, I said nothing about bringing to climax. From the look in her eyes though, Greta knew exactly what she was doing and why.

Shortly after the executives departed and Camille put her packet of signed documents safely away in her desk, Linda returned to the workroom carrying two pieces of luggage. One large suitcase contained her school clothing, which I would have final approval over before she left the house. Within the house and the yard she was to be nude. Clothing was appropriate only for classes and school activities.

The other case held her lap top computer, several school texts for the first of two summer session courses, and a framed photograph of her parents.

Linda thanked Camille for her second chance and Camille transferred authority of her niece to me for the duration of her school year. Linda simply stated, “I accept you as my master and will obey your rules.”

[barelin]

Summer Session
by Chessman
Part 1

This is a sequel to 'Dinner and a Show'

CAFETERIA FOOD ON CAMPUS

Friday.

The first thing Gwen and I had to do when control was passed from Camille to us was to collar Linda again in a way that her ‘jewelry’ would be acceptable in her campus settings.

To that end I purchased five pieces of anodized aluminum body wear from Camille. A fourteen-inch neck collar, three-quarters of an inch wide and made of plain beaten aluminum with a small chain design in its center, made a simple everyday statement without looking like overtly fetish wear. I added ankle and wrist cuffs of the same design and material as the collar . The look was hip and the meaning could remain a secret between Linda and her surrogate master and mistress.

Gwen liked the look so much I purchased a collar and cuff set for her as well, but Gwen’s, meant for more permanence, were made of stainless steel.

A command set was established before we left Camille’s showroom with Linda. For public interaction and socialization, Linda would refer to us as “Uncle Mark” and “Auntie Gwen” in lieu of the traditional "Master" and "Mistress". We felt this was more appropriate, as her Aunt Camille was her true mistress and we were acting as surrogates while the girl attended her college courses. Her discipline safe word was established as ‘foxtrot’ and a public infraction would be heralded by my or Gwen’s saying, “She will be attending a dance lesson later.”

She was to have sex only with partners approved by Gwen or me, as far as boy or girlfriends, and if sex was not to be part of disciplinary actions her current partner would be permitted to participate or watch. She was never to have sex unless Gwen or I approved. A caning, a flogging, or an act of public humiliation could be partner-accompanied to add to the shame factor; a discipline involving sex would be off limits.

She would be allowed the minimum amount of clothing permissible to attend school. A mini-skirt, a white blouse or T-shirt, and sandals were allowable for the two summer sessions she would be attending. If she successfully completed those and was allowed back to the Institute for the fall semester we would discuss proper cold weather attire. No shorts, underwear, or jewelry other than her collar and cuffs would be allowed.

With Camille’s approval, Linda would be laser depilated so as to be permanently hairless from her neckline to her toes.

Once inside the townhouse front door, she would remove her blouse and skirt. Her sandals would suffice for her to do the gardening and tend to the pool in the yard. A ten-foot tall concrete block fence, allowing absolute privacy, enclosed the twenty-one by fifteen foot pool. Unless we had company over, no one would see her tending to her chores.

Her class assignments would be reviewed by Gwen and me and if not properly completed would result in a ‘dance practice’.

Camille was an email or phone call away if modification in our agreement would be needed. Having changed Linda into her collar and cuffs and her permitted travel clothing, Gwen and I took our charge to the automobile for the journey down the Turnpike to our town house. In the vehicle, Gwen sat in the rear seat with Linda while I drove. Once past the electronic toll readers and on the roadway, Gwen had Linda slip off her skirt and spread her legs wide apart. For the rest of the ride, a good hour and forty-five minutes, until we hit the exit booth and then local roads, Linda was half naked and being diddled by Gwen, almost, but never quite, to orgasm.

She was so shaky by the time we crossed the threshold of the townhouse that I thought I would have to carry her inside. She did manage to walk up the drive to the front door on her own, with both her bags.

“No, Linda,” Gwen corrected the girl as she tried to step over the door sill, ”You were told you were not permitted clothing in the house. If you choose to use the front door you will remove your clothing outside of it, BEFORE entering.”

Linda’s eyes opened wide, she asked permission to speak, then asked, “Auntie Gwen, what entry may I use so I'm not seen by the neighbors and possibly arrested?”

Gwen and I had thought this out and decided that the garage, though attached to the house, was technically not living quarters and Linda would be permitted to clothe and strip herself in that space, if it was rainy or cold. Otherwise her clothed limit would be the third flagstone paver inside the garden gate leading to the pool and deck area. Linda was so informed and went around to the side of the house to comply.

“How long did we say before she was to only use the front door?” Gwen asked me with a grin on her face.

“I think we agreed to the third week of summer school,” I replied, “but that could be shortened depending on the rest of the plan and how well Ethan and Joyce take to our suggestions.”

Gwen laughed. As a published author I was often asked to speak at the P-FIT, as it was nicknamed. I, and Gwen as well, as she offered seminars on publishing business to both English and Business majors, knew many of the instructors and professors by name and had entertained them often for beginning and end of semester cocktail parties and fundraiser activities for the P-FIT endowment fund and scholarships. The two who would be involved during this summer session were Ethan Dunphy, BS, MS, EdD, PHD and Joyce Heath, MD, PsyD. Ethan is the dean of the School of Fine Arts at Philadelphia Fashion Institute of Technology and Joyce is the senior professor of the School of Psychology and Counseling.

Linda’s two courses in her first session of summer school were Life Drawing in Ethan’s department and Situational Psychology in Joyce’s. Summer sessions are usually taught by teaching assistants or junior instructors; however, in this case the two department heads were only too willing to take the six-week courses themselves. That and a six figure check I had cut to the professor emeritus endowment fund guaranteed it. May 15th to June 30th would be very interesting for Linda both on campus and off.

Linda entered the townhouse a few minutes later with her skirt and blouse draped over her arm. She placed her clothing over her suitcases and then knelt in first position waiting for further instruction.

Gwen took over her instruction, “When you have no class work to complete and no housework as assigned to you, your time will be spent in physical exercise. The workout room is to the left of the family room, which opens out to the heated pool. The pool may not look overly long, Linda, yet you will find under certain conditions you will not reach its end, even if you are a very strong swimmer. It is from a company called Endless Pool and has a feature that produces strong water current forcing you to swim into it or be swept back into the rear wall. Do not allow yourself to be swept back. To do so will result in a dance lesson. Likewise “Bruce” in the workout room is a medical model treadmill that is used by cardiologists to measure heart health and fitness. If you are working out on Bruce, do not allow yourself to come off the treadmill until your time or distance has been reached. There are also yoga mats and DVDs with yoga programs to insure your flexibility, and the hot tub and sauna are there for you to use as you recover from your workouts. I will show you, once, how the beds are to be made and how the bathrooms are to be cleaned. Thereafter those will be your standing daily chores. We will discuss your gardening duties later. You will also test the pool and hot tub daily for pH levels and clean the filters daily. If you have questions you may ask them now.”

Linda raised her head, “How many baths and bedrooms are there, Auntie Gwen?”

“Four bedrooms, including yours. The master bedroom is used by Master Mark. Get used to hearing him referred as such, he is my husband and we love each other passionately. However, I am also his submissive. I use the second bedroom, it attaches to the master bedroom via the master bath. Each of the other bedrooms has its own bath. If we have no overnight guests, the one not in use need not be cleaned until it is used. I can see you counting in your head, little one, the answer to the bathroom question is FIVE in total. There are three baths for the four bedrooms, one for the exercise room and one in the pool house. Our laundry facilities are also in the pool house, which has a kitchenette and two loveseats that make up as beds if we have a lot of overnight guests or if our guests bring their children. We tend to entertain around the pool and serve buffet meals and wines in the pool house, there are several low tables and pillow chairs for guests to lounge on and eat off of. You will of course serve, cater to our guests and clean up after any party we might have.”

I interjected at that point, “Linda, we may have occasional guests who may or may not stay over at anytime. Our parties are scheduled for Memorial Day, Independence Day, August 15th, Gwen’s Birthday, and Labor Day. This should not provide excessive interference for your study and school schedule. Gwen has already been instructed by me that if at anytime your school work demands more of your time you will not be punished for failing to complete ALL of you house chores. You must attempt to complete the basic ones to our satisfaction. As all of our clothing is sent out for cleaning, the laundry you will need to tend to is the bedding and towels. If a day needs to be skipped on those and if the only baths that get cleaned are yours and the master bath that day, you will be cited as satisfactory for the day. If you need to isolate yourself to work on a project, we will allow you the privacy you need. You must attend to your workouts in either the pool or the exercise room on school days, but not both. When you need to take a break from the books, a swim or a run on Bruce will get the blood flowing back to your brain again.”

With that I looked to Gwen and snapped my fingers. She shuddered. Good girl, you are well trained and you know what you have done wrong.

“I’m sorry Master Mark, I have no excuse for my misbehavior and I expect to be disciplined.” She offered and promptly unbuttoned the sundress she had been wearing\ and let puddle on the floor.

“Linda, Gwen is also expected by me to be nude at all times within the confines of this house,” I explained, “Most of our guests will also be nude when they visit, though not all shall be. Business guests usually remain clothed, and I still expect you to serve them as you will serve all of our guests. The last time Gwen ‘forgot’ to remove her dress promptly on arriving home from outside business she was required as punishment to go grocery-shopping nude. What shall it be this time, Gwen, no more midnight runs to the twenty-four hour Stop and Shop? No, I think this time I will pull the Lexus out into the driveway and you may wash the car nude on Saturday afternoon.”

I couldn’t tell if the shudder that I saw Gwen give was excitement, fear or shock. I knew I had pressed a button though. All the men in the cul de sac either mowed their lawns or washed their cars on Saturday afternoon. In fairness, when she was to be so punished, I would call the wives in the cul de sac Friday evening and tell them Gwen had lost a bet and her payoff was to wash the car nude in the driveway. If they wanted their men to ogle it was okay but if they chose to keep their guys ‘busy’ for the two hours between one p.m. and three p.m. that would work as well. The last time, last summer, Gwen had to mow the lawn nude; seven men had grins as wide as a jack o lantern the next day. Apparently, the girls in the cul de sac decided to reward their men that same afternoon Gwen was to be punished. The odd delivery, mailman, or the lesbian couple on our left, might see her, but I could almost guarantee the men would be otherwise occupied.

“Oh, and Gwen, while you are at it, the Nitro could use a wash and vacuum as well.” I added that as an afterthought. “Well, Linda, we know how Gwen shall be spending her Saturday, let’s now talk about how you shall spend yours.” With that I led the girl away to unpack and settle into her room.

That followed with the phone calls to the neighborhood wives, all of whom giggled and said they would make plans to keep their hubbies busy. Judy and Tia, our lesbian neighbors, had been in our pool nude and had seen Gwen nude so many times that they knew this was her normal state around the home. Last summer Tia had held a full conversation with Gwen, Tia sitting on the front steps of the house and Gwen going back and forth with the mower and then raking up after.

I had told Linda she was to lay out all of the clothing she had brought with her for my inspection. She had done so by the time I was finished speaking to the wives and to Judy. Tia was out at a pottery class adult extension at P-FIL and would be home later.

I walked into Linda’s room, unannounced, as she had no lock on her door and had been told part of the arrangement would be that either Gwen or I could walk in and spot inspect her room and activities whenever it was convenient for us. She stood, head bowed, legs apart, hands clasped behind her back in position two, much as a soldier put ‘at ease’ but with head down. I then began picking through her garments. She, wisely, had already separated the swimwear and underclothing she had packed into one group. I picked through these and tossed the bras and most of the panties back into a suitcase, she would not be using those. I left her two thong panties, for those times she might need full coverage. Her swimsuits were monokinis with thong backs and that thin strip of cloth up the centerline to the bra cups with a neck tied halter-top. Her back in these looked totally nude. Of the three I allowed her the yellow one; the navy blue and black and white zebra pattern went back into the suitcase with the underwear. There would be an occasional day trip to the Jersey shore, and she would need a swimsuit for those days.

She had seven white pleated polyester tennis skirts that were micro mini in size. Those went into the keep pile, and two halter top type midi blouses with button down fronts were added to the keep pile, along with several DKNY white T-shirts. Sneaker sox, two pair of white KEDS sneakers and three pair of Crocs Cleo style sandals completed the allowed clothing. I told Linda she would be wearing a pair of sandals, a white mini skirt and a midi blouse to her first day of classes.

Her assigned duty for both Saturday and Sunday before classes began on Monday was to lie in the sun by the pool and work on evening out her tan as she had triangles on her breasts and that awful stripe down the middle of her abdomen as well as the triangle at her pubic region that needed to be blended into her tan.

I told her we were expecting company on Sunday in mid afternoon and she should be prepared to serve wine and cheese when called upon to do so. I then invited her to the master bedroom. She followed and I summoned Gwen. She stepped onto as footstool at the foot of the king size bed and waited for my gifts to her. On the stool Gwen was just tall enough to look me in the eye. As I snapped the new stainless steel collar and bracelets on Gwen, Linda looked on in fascination. She had never seen a ritual collaring before, though she herself had been collared twice now, both times with temporary and removable collars and cuffs.

These were different as they mated with a male-female joint. I slipped in headless screws to secure then in place. Until I decided they would come off they would stay on. Gwen was thrilled, she was wet with excitement and her pierced nipples were as erect as I’d ever seen them.

“Linda, come here,” I ordered, and the younger girl approached the bed, ”Tonight you pleasure each other,” I told the women, “Then Gwen, report to my bed. Linda, be sure Gwen is satisfied.”

I was on deadline, and I needed to finish a chapter on which I had been working prior to the long drive to get Linda and the drive home with her. I guessed that I had at least two hours to write in peace, leaving them to their own devices, and I had ideas for the plot involving two submissives ordered to pleasure each other.

* * *

[barelin]

“She’s not a natural lesbian,” Gwen pillow talked to me after giving me an exquisite round of oral sex.

“Is she open enough to experiment with both sexes or will that require further training?” I asked in return.

“I explained to her that pleasure and pain can come from either sex, and she should enjoy the pleasure and endure the pain if she wants to survive the submissive lifestyle. I had three fingers in her vagina at the time and she was so near orgasm I’m not sure she heard what I was saying. All I heard her say was, ‘Yes, Yes, oh god YES.’” Gwen said.

I laughed at that, snorted my laugh I was laughing so hard. “Wait until Sunday. That will be the true test. I have already told her she would be serving wine and cheese to guests. But that is all I have told her.”

Gwen whispered to me, “Tia and Judy called me on my cell a little while ago. They wanted to know if I needed help washing the cars tomorrow and what bet I had lost.”

“Well I thought it was fair, it I called all the guys in the cul de sac that they should know as well,” I answered her and felt the shudder she always gets before a public humiliation punishment. ”In fact I may let them pleasure you on the front lawn, if you do a really good job on both cars.” That evoked a shudder so deep I felt it and suddenly her nipples were erect and I felt a new wave of moisture between her legs.

“Did I give you permission to get excited?” She shook now from momentary fear. “This carwash is punishment for forgetting your boundaries, are you forgetting them again so soon?” Now she was shaking. She had visions of being tied to the whipping post and being caned for severe disobedience, something I rarely did to her but something she knew was more than possible.

“No Master Mark, I’m afraid my body is so over stimulated from the events of the day I could not prevent it. I will change your sheets, and then retire to my room.” She had gone full submissive, except she was giving herself permission to leave, now, which was not going to happen.

“Across my knees,” I ordered, sitting up in the bed. She crawled across and lay rear end up over my thighs. ”You do not dismiss yourself, so no, you will not change the sheets, at least not until morning, in fact you may wind up soiling them even more. You will receive an open handed spanking of not less than thirty swats, you will then flip over onto your back and spread your legs and give me the best sex we have had since our marriage night or you will get thirty more.”

She was lubricating so freely now my thighs were slick with her fluids. “Count for me,” I ordered. She did, not missing a number, and both her cheeks were bright fiery red when I was finished. My erection was painful and I ordered her on he back. The paddling had been the foreplay. I slid into her without resistance and she clamped down with her keigle muscles immediately. She knew she was to do all the work and I’d made it more difficult by putting her on the bottom. She also knew she was not to orgasm, as I’d not given her permission. Just prior to my ejaculation I withdrew from her vagina and ordered her over so I might use her rectum to complete myself. Four strokes after entry I unloaded my second batch of fluids for the night. Gwen was ordered to roll over and go to sleep. The stain on her side of the bed would be an outline of her body from her hips to her knees. It was okay though as Linda would do the laundry. May as well start the coed off with a real load of work, I thought to myself.

Saturday.

I arose with the sun on Saturday morning, singing obnoxiously loud, “Car Wash, workin’ at the car wash, baby…”

Gwen was amused by this and crawled over to me to take my morning erection in her mouth. Several minutes later Gwen swallowed her protein breakfast and scampered downstairs to fix eggs and toast for the three of us.

I walked into Linda’s room to find her at her computer researching the classes she was to take. I asked her what she was doing and she told me she was making sure she had all the supplies she needed for the art course, such as a sketch pad, an art pad, pencils, charcoals, chalks and water color paper and paints to complete her projects. The course was set up so that each week a test would be required on Friday. This test was in the form of a progressively improved artwork. Week one was simple line drawings of the model. Week two was charcoals and shading in black and white. Week three added colored chalks to the drawing with advanced shadings and backgrounds added in chalks the following week. The sketch for the watercolor was the week five project and the completed watercolor was the final examination. Linda had all of her supplies lined up and was checking the on line inventory with and against what she had already purchased. She had everything she needed except for the watercolor pad and watercolors.

“I hadn’t known they would be needed when I signed up for the course, they were not mentioned in the original syllabus, Uncle Mark. Do we have a moment today or tomorrow to go to a Michael’s or A.C. Moore?”

“I’ll have Gwen take you once she finishes washing the cars,” I told her. “After breakfast I want you coated in SPF 30 and out on the lounge chairs. We need to get rid of those tan lines. The art store is open until nine tonight, so Gwen can take you once the sun goes down.”

Gwen is an excellent breakfast chef. Her egg and cheese omelets could be contenders in any food contest. This masterpiece had small flakes of baked Virginia ham in it, a light white cheese, Colby I thought, and just a hint of basil flavored olive oil in which the egg was cooked. Crispy wedges of whole-wheat toast on the side set the platter off nicely.

When she saw Gwen kneeling at the side of the table, Linda joined her. I explained that Gwen would be eating out of a bowl on the floor when Linda and I had finished our meal, as Gwen was under punishment. Linda was told to learn from this, for any time she was under punishment she would receive the same treatment.

Linda and I ate and I complemented Gwen on her creation. Finished, I scraped my dish, Linda’s dish and what was left in the platter on the table into a large bowl. Gwen bent down with hands behind her back and began to eat from the dish. When she had finished, and she knew enough to finish it all, Gwen crawled to a second bowl containing water and lapped that up as well. I placed all of the dishes into the dishwasher and set the timer on that. Then I moved both the Lexus and the Nitro into the driveway. It was not quite ten in the morning and Gwen was not to start her car wash punishment until one in the afternoon. Therefore I dismissed her to the pool to get some sun on her pale body, and she gladly joined Linda while I retired to my study to write. I was a bit blocked and my editor was being punished. The writer in me wanted her advice, the master in me wanted her obedience. It was a moment of inner turmoil.

It passed. I saw the time and realized I could not work on the pages any longer, I needed to get the materials Gwen would need out to the driveway. As I was gathering the sponges, chamois clothes and soap I heard a knock on the sliding glass door. It was Linda. “Uncle Mark, may I assist Auntie Gwen in washing the cars? If we get them done really quickly she can get me to the art store in time to let me browse for the best paints and some really good brushes.”

“In the driveway, out front, nude,” was all I said to her. She nodded then said, “I understand that Uncle Mark, and I will still be working on my tan, as you ordered me to do earlier.”

This child was going to be a perfect fit for the project ahead, I though, and then I voiced, “Auntie Gwen will tell you how to help her. You may make sure she does a good and complete job. If either of you fails, both of you will be punished.”

“Understandable, Uncle Mark,” she concluded.

One minute before the clocks in the house struck one p.m. the girls were up front wetting down and soaping up the two vehicles. As I had planned, and the telephone calls had solidified, the mail had already been delivered and the women of the cul de sac were keeping their husbands busy elsewhere. Judy and Tia arrived on our lawn at ten minutes after the hour. I actually wondered what had kept them away so long.

“This is our niece, Linda, who will be staying with us while she takes courses at P-FIT,” Gwen offered up as introduction. “Linda, these are our neighbors to the left, Judy and Tia.”

Linda walked up to the taller ash blond Judy and extended her hand to shake Judy’s and say hello. She was unprepared for her nude body to be grabbed by the other woman and put into an embrace that literally took Linda’s breath away. Judy finished with a light caress of Linda’s backside and lower back.

Tia, with her mixed Japanese and African-American background, was slightly smaller in height but fuller in hip and bust than Judy. She greeted Linda in the same manner as her partner.

Our neighbors had wandered over with a pitcher of cold drinks, some old towels, and a stack of disposable plastic tumblers. Tia poured each of them a drink, they toasted the day and each other and then after drinking the punch that must have been laced with alcohol, Linda and Gwen continued washing the Lexus.

I had opened the window to my study, which was directly over the garage and looked down on the driveway, and heard the conversation.”Hey, this would go faster if we pitched in and dried the cars as the girls washed them,” Tia suggested.

Gwen protested, “No, I lost the bet fair and square and the punishment was to wash the two cars nude in the driveway. I should fulfill my debt.”

Judy laughed, “Gwen, dear girlfriend Gwen, Mark made the bet with you to WASH the cars. Nothing in that bet said ‘and dry’ did it? Which means if we don’t help you wash we can help you dry.”

“Oh, and don’t you have a helper right here?” Tia pointed to Linda who had a soapy sponge working on the roof of the Lexus.

“I opened my mouth and stuck my naked toes in it when I said Auntie Gwen had Uncle Mark cold this time. Uncle Mark asked me if I wanted in on the wager knowing my payoff would be the same as Auntie Gwen’s. I said yes, and here I am” Linda giggled and pirouetted her nude self about.

Judy and Tia were both wearing bikini bra tops and sheer shorts, Judy spoke up, “I don’t think Mark would object to our drying the cars if we at least take our tops off, do you Tia?”

The Lexus was done, washed, rinsed, washed a second time by one forty-five. Linda and Gwen started the washing of the Nitro and true to their agreement the tops came off of Judy and Tia as they dried the exterior and vacuumed the interior of the Lexus.

The Nitro had a slightly higher roof line and Linda was up on a two step stool washing the roof with her 34C breasts pressed against the passenger side windows when Al, Chad, Jack, Henry and Bob walked over from Al’s house three doors to the right of mine.

“Hi, Gwen,” offered the gregarious Henry, “Who is the new girl in the neighborhood?”

“My niece, Linda,” Gwen stated as she wiped her hands dry on an old towel, “Linda, come on over here and meet the neighbors.”

Following introductions, Linda tried to get back to her chores. Chad and Bob had gone over to talk with Judy and Tia neither of the lesbian couple bothering to cover up nor concerned at their semi nudity. Gwen was holding a conversation with Henry, concerning a neighborhood pool party slated for the Memorial Day Weekend, and Al was trying to strike up a conversation with Linda.

“Are you visiting?” Al offered a lame but valid opener.

“No I’ll be staying here for at least three months, I needed a place to stay while I take some summer courses at P-FIT,” Linda stated honestly. She was pink with embarrassment, Her heart was fluttering and her vagina was dripping as she held a conversation with this fully clothed neighbor. A neighbor, who happened to be over six feet tall, wore a two-day-old beard like a movie star and even clothed in a camp shirt and cargo shorts appeared to be remarkably endowed.

Al, smiling and waving toward his house, yelped, “That’s nice I guess we’ll bump into each other again then. Well gotta go, my wife has refreshments ready for the boys and I.” Al called to his cronies and they all made their excuses and left walking toward Al’s house while casting looks over their shoulders suggesting they would really rather stay and keep the naked and semi naked women company.

Shortly after this visit, the four women finished the Nitro and I was called down to inspect the work they’d done. Neither a smudge nor a streak was evident on either vehicle and all eight of the tires had been washed and treated as well. The chrome wheels sparkled. I was pleased and told the four that I was. I invited Tia and Judy in to use the pool, an offer they readily accepted and soon four naked women slathered in sun block were cavorting happily in the pool, while I tried to clear my writer’s block and finish the chapter on which I was working.

As the sun went down and the air chilled to a night’s coolness, I ordered take away to be delivered from Lotus Blossom Gardens, our favorite Chinese place. Normally Gwen answered the door for deliveries, but today I took that duty over and after paying the girl who always delivered to us and watching her wiggle away to her car I brought the fool out onto the deck and yelled for the women to come and eat. I was happy to see that while all dried themselves off none of the women attempted to put a covering on their body.

Judy asked me, ”Mark, aren’t you a bit over dressed considering the company you’re keeping?”

I unsnapped the snap of the shorts I was wearing and pulled the golf shirt over my head and soon joined the women in a state of complete undress.

We ate and we drank sake and rice wine and we followed up dinner with a leisurely swim. I offered Tai and Judy the use of the sauna and hot tub as the night grew too chilly to be out, yet too young to end the fun. They declined the offer, giggling that they wanted to go home and feed each other desert. Gwen smiled and said we too would have coffee and brandy and possibly a light desert once the girls were safely home. Unlocking the garden gate and watching them creep over their back yard until the motion sensor activated lights illuminated them as they went for the screened in sun porch door, we three waved good night and then closed and relocked the eight foot by three foot gate.

The formerly white areas on Linda’s body showed a true pink hue from being exposed to the sun all day. I told her to gather the empty glasses and put them into the dishwasher and to gather the wet and soiled towels and dump them into the hamper in the poolroom. When that was done, she was dismissed for the night.

“She seems genuinely happy to be here so far, doesn’t she” I quietly asked Gwen.

“She is semi-trained by Camille and sort of expected a situation like this to evolve while living here, just not so quickly” Gwen said, “Though she took the visit by the men very well and seemed to have no objection to Tia and Judy joining in with us for the afternoon and evening.”

“Well, tomorrow may prove to be very interesting then, not a hint to her whom our guests for Sunday brunch are, okay?” I asked Gwen who was already on her knees with my penis in her mouth giving me my nightly stress release. “Oh, and don’t talk with your mouth full.” Gwen’s answer was a snort through her nose.

Sunday.

Gwen woke me while tending to my early morning erection with her lovely mouth. I politely invited her to insert me into her vagina and ride me cowgirl style. I watched her pierced clitoral hood slide up and down over my penis and saw her edging toward an orgasm. I granted her permission to release herself.

Her fingers of her left hand immediately flew to her clitoris while those of her right pulled on one of her pierced nipples. Her orgasm and mine found mutual timing and I had not pulled out of her. This was the first full vaginal coitus we had in over five years. She looked at me with shock. She had ceased using birth control a year after we had accepted our positions as Dom male and sub female and part of that agreement had been no further vaginal intercourse to ejaculation. This had clearly been a mistake and might change everything in our arrangement.

“Master Mark, I apologize, I did not mean to force you to use me that way,” she was apologizing to me, okay, “I do not wish to worry you, husband, but I am in my fertile portion of my cycle.”

Gwen had been the victim of a disease in childhood that had scarred her fallopian tubes, making conception difficult, and I being nearly two decades older than she had a low sperm count. We had long ago resigned ourselves to never having a child of our own and had chosen the Dom/sub lifestyle as a way of expressing our caring for each other. Surely that would be curtailed if Gwen were to bear me a child. However, the thrill of possibly becoming a father offset that circumstance. To see Gwen nude, belly swelling with child, would delight and excite me.

“Shall I punish you, wife, for such an indiscretion? What would that punishment be? Let me think, Oh, here it is, from this date until the time you would normally cycle we shall have only vaginal intercourse. Should you have your period, we go back to our prior arrangement. Should you find yourself pregnant, wife, we shall discuss your status in this household as befits a mother to be.” That said, I left the woman I loved with all my heart lost in thought on my bed as I padded off to use the bathroom.

Gwen was thirty-five. That is a difficult age for a first pregnancy. Difficult in terms of carrying the child to full term and difficult in terms of having a pregnancy take at all. I put the thought in the back of my head and went downstairs, nude, to check on the wine situation for this afternoon’s visitors.

Ethan Dunphy and Joyce Heath would be arriving at one p.m. and I put two bottled of Chablis into the wine cooler to chill and another two bottles of merlot uncorked to breath. Those would be for the fish and meat courses of the dinner. I told Linda she would be serving for wine and cheese. I did not tell her that Gwen would be preparing and serving a full soup to nuts sit-down dinner after the wine and cheese. Gwen would get Linda’s help in the kitchen but would be serving the meal alone as she had a rhythm to her meals that was years in the learning. We had tried maids in the past and they only got in the way. Linda would be allowed to sit at table with us while Gwen served.

Ethan and Joyce had agreed to not reveal who they were or how Linda would come to know them on the next day. They were just old friends of the family who accepted our casual lifestyle and enjoyed the occasional nude swim in our pool.

From nine in the morning until twelve thirty, Linda followed orders and instructions by lying out in the sun by the side of the pool. She showered and dried off and awaited further orders from Gwen in the kitchen. Gwen, nude and collared and cuffed was puttering about the kitchen in a style I referred to as organized chaos. Linda was following behind her, putting away spice jars and rubs, clearing the sinks of carrot and potato peels and helping to strip the ends and strings from fresh garden green beans. Linda made two trips to the outside trash bins before the guests arrived.

When the doorbell chimed, Gwen instructed Linda, “Go answer the door, curtsy, and invite our guests in to sit in the recreation room. You may lead them there and show them to their seats, go now, before the chime sounds again.”

Linda scurried to the front door, and pulled it open to show two middle-aged people, about Uncle Mark’s age, standing there. She dropped a curtsy as Gwen had told her to do and offered to lead them to the recreation room where they might be seated.

Once they were settled she asked if the couple would care for a glass of wine and stated there was a chilled white or a breathing red to chose from. Both the man and the woman opted for the chilled white, the day was warm after all, and asked if they might be served their drinks by the pool. Linda indicated she would ask her Auntie Gwen if this was in Auntie Gwen and Uncle Mark’s plan but she thought it would be all right with them.

“They want to go out by the pool and have their wine and cheese there, Auntie Gwen, I did not know if that was approvably. I said I’d check with you,” Linda told her mistress as the wine was poured and a cheese tray set up with cubes of a variety of hard and soft cheeses and small crackers to accompany them.

“Ethan and Joyce are old friends, Linda, but of course you would not know that, and we often allow them to treat our home as if it were their own. Don’t be surprised or shocked if by the time you carry this outside they are as naked as you and I and happily slashing about in the pool.” Gwen handed Linda the tray and told her to return quickly for the wine service.

I came down the stairs wearing only a pair of silk briefs, my idea of a swim suit when one was called for, and checked with the women in the kitchen before joining our company poolside.

“Shoo,” was Gwen’s response to my offer of help. I did pick up the wine bucket with the ice and an open bottle in it and carried it with me out the sliding doors to the pool deck.

Linda had placed the cheese and cracker tray on a table between the two lounge chairs Ethan and Joyce had chosen to use. As the couple disrobed, Linda asked if she could fold and take their clothing into the pool house were it as less likely to get damp from pool splash. The pair smiled and nodded that would be acceptable. A look passed between Ethan and myself, Ethan thought Linda would do nicely. I looked over at Joyce who had a huge grin on her face while watching the tight derriere of my coed charge walk away from her.

“I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave, Mark,” Joyce said to me. “I agree with Ethan, she will do fine, and if she does her grades will reflect that.”

“That will please her Aunt Camille no end, Joyce. Oh, as long as she is enrolled in P-FIT, Gwen and I are her aunt and uncle and her guardians” I told the pair of professors. We ended that train of discussion as Linda bounced her way back to us.

“Will there be anything else, Uncle Mark? If not I’ll check with Auntie Gwen to see if I can help her inside, or return to the activity you assigned me previously.” Linda dropped a curtsy, cute, but not requested nor needed. I would remember that for later.

“Go sit or lie down on the lounge in the sun, Linda, Gwen is fine in the kitchen by herself as can be attested by both Ethan and Joyce who have offered help to her in the past and both were ordered out of the kitchen with threats of bodily harm if they returned.” I paused as Joyce laughed and nodded her head, ”I will call you if we need another bottle or more cheese.” I concluded and dismissed her to the other end of the pool.

We all swam a few laps to cool off and then sat around chatting about small things as old friends are wont to when they see each other socially. I called to Linda to take a plunge, and swim a lap or two and then get sun on her back, as she’d been too long on her front side. She did so and then appeared to doze off.

It was nearing five thirty when Gwen summoned all of us to table. Linda was told to sit at the foot of the table, while the four of use sat clustered near the head.

Gwen served us family style starting with a chilled tomato soup, followed by a shrimp and endive salad with a horseradish vinaigrette. Crudités and a blue cheese dip were on the table. Gwen’s masterpiece, a bone-in prime roast of beef, came to the table for me to carve. The green beans, carrots and mashed potatoes followed and were all passed along while our guests waited with expectation for the rib roast to be carved. Ethan liked the end piece as it was slightly more well done, Gwen and I liked the next rib in on the roast and Joyce liked her beef rare enough to moo at her when she cut into it. Linda was not given a choice; she took the other end piece on her plate as it was what was left when the platter made it down to her.

Several times during the meal I called upon her to refill the wine glasses, which she did with flourish and without spilling a drop.

Dinner ended with a crème de leche dessert that was light on the tongue and a pleasure following a heavy meal. Our guests and I retired to the hot tub for a soak, while Linda and Gwen cleared the table and got the dishes started in the dishwasher.

Nude the entire time, Linda seemed to be comfortable in her own skin and with her role in the household. In the hot tub I asked, “Have you decided about tomorrow?”

“Yes, I know I have,” Ethan responded, “She will make a fine life model for my class.”

Joyce quickly added, “And as the subject of the experiment in my class, “The Psychology of Shame and Public Humiliation,” she will serve most excellently.”

[barelin]

AFTER BREAKFAST, MORNING CLASSES

MONDAY MORNING…LINDA GOES TO CLASS…

Linda rose on Monday the 15th of May to do chores and breakfast. She put away the dishes from the previous evening and she started the towel wash for the used towels from the weekend and the morning’s clean up. She made toast while Gwen finished at the stove with pork roll, eggs, and cheese biscuits. We ate, Linda rushed to the pool house to change the washer and drier loads and then dressed herself in her mini skirt ant midi top for the trip to campus.

Camille had not permitted Linda driving privileges, so it was up to Gwen to take the coed to campus before her eight forty-five class began and pick her up from school following her afternoon class, which ended at four.

Between eleven thirty and one p.m. Linda had time to eat lunch, use the rest rooms and do class assignments. Her morning class, with Ethan Dunphy instructing, was “Life Drawing” and was a required course for all fine art and design majors.

At one in the afternoon, Joyce Heath would be instructing the Introduction To Social Psychology course. These two courses and the required out of class work for them would occupy Linda for the next six weeks. Then after a week off she would start the second six week summer session.

Gwen was more than familiar with the school campus and greeted the campus police officer by name as they entered the campus in my Nitro.

“George, this is my niece, Linda,” Gwen greeted the officer, “She is taking some art and psychology courses this summer session.”

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Mrs. Chessman,” George responded. He was wearing the stripes of a police sergeant and his emphasis on the word ‘see’ made Gwen grin but was missed by Linda.

“Oh, I suppose you will be seeing a lot of Linda for the next six weeks, George, but I’ll only be dropping her off here and picking her up after classes, this summer.” Gwen put the same emphasis on ‘seeing’ that George had used on ‘see’. Linda, still anxious to get to class and get settled missed the nuance there as well.

“Well no matter how short a time it is always a pleasure, ma’am,” George finished and opened the swing gate that allowed Gwen entry into the faculty and staff parking area.

“Wow, how do you have access here, Auntie Gwen,” our coed in residence asked, “I tried to park here one day last year, before they suspended me, and they towed my car.”

“Master Mark is on the Board of Trustees, dear,” Gwen answered, “We have many of the same privileges on campus as senior faculty.”

Linda had her mind churning; this could mean that she would have an easy ride of her courses with a person of influence as her guardian. Linda always looked for the ‘cake’ courses and the easiest way to a grade when possible. She perked up considerably thinking her summer would be a walk in the park.

Gwen saw the look on her face and immediately announced, “Your Aunt Camille has told us that any grade lower than a B in any of the four classes you are to take this summer will result in the Dean’s Review Board disallowing you fall admission. We expect a 3.25 GPA from you as a minimum. There will be punishment if you slide by with Cs and do not gain readmission in the fall.”

Linda went from gleeful to crestfallen. There went her easy summer and snap grades.

Gwen admired the youngster as she exited the vehicle, Linda’s skirt slid up as she slid out and a fine view of her well-tanned posterior was evident for just a passing minute. As Linda leaned over the back seat to retrieve her note book and sketch pad, Gwen had a full view of the two C cup breasts with the nipple piercings until the coed stood up with the items in her arms. A small purse with her student ID card, a few tampons and her pens, drawing materials and a gum eraser was all she had to sling over her shoulder. Linda’s student ID card was also her prepaid cafeteria pass for lunch.

Gwen pointed in the direction of the entry way for the Arts building and watched until Linda was inside the door. Speed dialing her cell phone, Gwen notified Ethan Dunphy that Linda was in attendance. Linda’s summer session at P-FIT was about to begin.

Linda walked into the classroom and saw that it had the usual whiteboards and draw down screens for overhead projection and video presentation, but that it also was set up in a semi circular fashion of easels and chairs, actually backless stools, sixteen of them, with one central podium, which apparently rotated like a lazy-susan.

Cabinets lined the walls behind the student positions and a riser behind the podium, with audiovisual equipment and a lectern on it, appeared to be the position from which the instructor would do his or her work. Linda’s schedule had noted INSTRUCTOR: To be announced. Linda thought this meant a teaching assistant or perhaps a junior instructor with low departmental seniority.

Her classmates began filing in, and she was pleased that they were a majority of women, some older, and only four men. Introductions were quickly made. The two forty-something’s were in the class for credit toward teaching certificates in the arts. Dorothy and Irene now taught Biology and English respectively, but wished to add the arts to their credentials. Three women were in their mid to late thirties and were back in college after their children had grown enough for them to go to classes while the kids were in school. Ruth, Charlotte and Elsa seemed to know each other from having taken classes together previously.

The six traditional undergraduate coeds were different; four were sorority sisters who had opted to take required courses during the summer months rather than spend the money to travel long distances to stay with family or friends for the summer. Twins, Paula and Carla, on the other hand lived with their parents on an Army post in Germany, and simply could not afford to fly back and forth, as they were on ROTC scholarships. Pam was in the same situation, except her family was stationed in Japan. Following this course session they would report to their mandatory military summer camp for the next six weeks. Janet, Yvette, Frannie and Ritu were members of Chi Alpha Omega sorority and had taken light course loads in the spring semester in order to have the time to got to spring break in Panama City, and do the spring party scene in the Pan Hellenic community.

Four male scholar athletes were also making up required coursework neglected during football and basketball seasons. Ned, Ron, Billy Bob, and Bubba were all massively muscular in the sleeveless shirts and cargo shorts they were wearing. Bubba had Linda drooling, for at six foot six inches and two hundred thirty pounds of rock hard muscle he was the hunk of her wet dream fantasies.

A door behind the riser opened and the attention of the class turned as one to see who was to teach the class. Several jaws dropped in the room. Notably, Dorothy, Irene and Linda’s were significantly lower.

There stood the Chairman of the Fine Arts Department, Ethan Dunphy. Linda was mortified to see the man whom only the day before she had served and eaten dinner with while nude standing there as her instructor. Dorothy and Irene were shocked, as they knew Department Chairs never taught summer session classes. This was highly unusual.

“Good morning, class, I see we are all here and we are on time. If we can hold to this henceforth it will be wonderful as we have much to do and only thirty sessions of three hours each in which to do it. Please find a seat behind any easel and we’ll take attendance.” Dunphy waited a bit and then broke the ice, “I am Ethan Dunphy, I hold a doctorate in education and another in philosophy of fine arts, and I am the chairperson of the fine arts department here at P-FIT. Some of you are shocked to see me teaching summer session. The truth is I volunteered to teach this course, as my job is mostly administrative during the regular semesters and I miss hands-on teaching.”

With that, he asked each class member introduced him or herself and tell why they were in the class. It came to Linda and she had been warned, both by Uncle Mark and Auntie Gwen and by her Aunt Camille to be totally honest and forthright when asked why she was in summer session.

“Hi, I’m Linda, and I’m a screw-up. I partied away my freshman year and the first semester of my sophomore year so badly that the administration suspended me for a semester and allowed me back in summer session on probation to prove myself. I need to do well in these four courses this summer or the school will not let me back as a full time student. So I’m here and willing to do anything assigned and work real hard.”

A few audible gasps from the older women, and a chuckle or two from the jock guys followed. Dunphy merely smiled and said, “Thank you, Linda.”

Dunphy then went through the requirements for the class. "The class will be divided into teams, and each student in the team would receive the same grade, so it would behoove each member of the team to do their best to see that the finished works are of high quality. A line drawing of the subject will be due this Friday. Next Friday the line drawing has to be shaded and toned with charcoal. A switch of media to chalks and pastels will occupy weeks three and four, with a pastel colored drawing to be submitted on the fourth Friday. Another switch of media to watercolors willoccupy weeks five and six, with the final examination for the course being a completed water color painting of the subject.

“Now, due to budgetary restrictions, we do not have sufficient funding to have a professional live model for six weeks. Therefore, I have decided that if one of you students participates as our model, that student shall be awarded the same grade as the team placing first in the overall class work.”

Bubba’s hand shot up. “I’ll do it, Professor.”

“Thank you, Bubba, but I think you should wait and hear the requirement for the model first.” Dunphy responded. “The model will be nude, except for jewelry while in the classroom. The model will pose for every team in the pose the team has selected at for at least fifteen minutes each class session. The administration is already aware of this, and has given permission that the student model may be nude anywhere on campus at anytime to fulfill his or her posing obligations for the class teams. Bubba, do you still wish to be the model?” Dunphy looked at the football player.

“Nude any time and anywhere on campus, Doctor Dunphy?” Bubba asked rhetorically, “uh, no, I don’t mind posing in class, Doc, but anywhere on campus, sorry, I could not handle that.” The other jocks in the class looked like a chorus of bobble head dolls nodding in agreement.

“Let’s ask the women then, oldest first, Dorothy or Irene?” Dunphy looked at the pair.

They both begged off fearing repercussions from their school districts if word they had pranced around in the all-together all summer got back to their administrations. Of the three moms returning to school, Charlotte was willing enough, but warned that with “stretch marks, saggy boobs and varicose veins, Professor, I’m no work of art any longer.”

The other thirty something’s bobbed their heads in agreement in a similar fashion as the jocks had done.

“Well, that leaves the eight of you,” Dunphy’s arms swung to the grouping where the teen and twenty year old students had seated themselves, “Could you girls stand up please.” Linda and the others stood, nervously.

“If you are wearing a bra, please sit down, bra marks take forever to disappear from skin and we need to start drawing by nine-thirty.” Dunphy looked at his watch and observed it was three minutes after nine.

Ritu, Yvette, Pam and the twins Carla and Paula sat back down and Ritu looked visibly relieved.

Linda, Janet and Frannie were left standing and Frannie’s nipples were poking out of her semi sheer tank top with either fright, excitement, or the chill of the room air conditioning. Her ultra tight skinny leg jeans showed her tensing and relaxing her butt muscles. Janet was wearing an oversized school hockey jersey and a very skimpy pair of cheer shorts. Linda had on her midi blouse and short pleated tennis skirt. Both Janet and Linda were wearing sandals. Frannie was wearing sneakers.

“For the same reasoning as the bra lines, of the three of you, if you are wearing panties of any sort, please sit down.” Dunphy instructed.

Janet gasped with relief and plopped back down on the stool she had stood by.

“One last question as the tie breaker, if you have pubic hair and are unwilling to shave it off for the class assignment, please sit down.” Frannie went beet red and sat, as Dunphy finished his questioning.

“Well, Linda, lucky Linda, please step up on the platform in the center of the semi circle and remove your skirt and blouse.” Dunphy instructed firmly but not harshly.

Linda simply undid the button at the side of her skirt and it slid to the floor as she pulled the midi top over her head. Tossing her clothes onto the stool, she stepped up and onto the platform.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your model, work with her, get to know her inside and out and make of her eight beautiful life studies.”

The four males in the class and the two older women were told to pick one of the other younger class members with whom to partner and the twins were told they could not work together. The pairings came out quite well with Billy Bob picking Charlotte as his teammate; Dorothy and Irene had each chosen one of the twins, Ruth paired herself with Yvette, Elsa with Janet, Bubba paired with Pam, Ned took Frannie and Ron and Ritu completed the pairings.

When she would look back at the class later Linda would realize the class size had been capped at an odd number knowing that one of the class would wind up with the modeling assignment. That was not what she was thinking at the moment on the posing platform. What she was thinking was she was cold, slightly embarrassed, and had to pee desperately.

“Doctor Dunphy,” she called out to get his attention as he was making the rounds of the pairings, when he looked up, she whispered, “I gotta pee.”

Irene immediately asked the professor, “Doctor Dunphy, is there anyway she could do that standing right here? Carla and I had the idea of catching her mid flow as the theme for our drawings.”

“Young man, bring that pan over there to the platform. Linda, take off your sandals and stand in the pan,” Dunphy instructed. Linda was embarrassed beyond words but complied immediately. The pan was the type used to mix plaster of Paris for sculpting and looked like the kind of industrial pan one would find on a construction site.

The two women brought their pencils and pads to the front and Irene, sketching rapidly, told Linda to begin.

This would become Position One, the first pose requested. Linda was to have the forefinger and middle finger of the right hand holding the outer labia apart, torso arched back slightly, legs at a forty-five degree angle and a look of sheer delight on her face. Carla and Irene both used their camera phones to snap photos of Linda from several angles and continued to sketch long after Linda’s flow had ceased. Linda stood in the puddle of her own urine until she felt it go cold. Only then was she allowed to go to the ladies locker room and shower. Which was where Dorothy and Paula wished to sketch her.

Position Two would become facing a jet of water hands in her hair feet spread apart.

Each of the other six pairs found ordinary yet somewhat humiliating places and positions for Linda.

Position Three was on her left side reclining on a park bench in front of the campus library and media building. This was for Ruth and Yvette.

Position Four was bending at the waist leaning over a recycle barrel placing a soda can into the barrel. That the barrel was in front of the Student Union Building made the pose all the more humiliating. Elsa and Janet thought that one up.

Position Five was with her shoulders and back resting against the trunk of the Alumni Tree in the center of the quad with her full frontal self facing the Administration Building. Ron and Ritu had come up with the idea.

Position Six was in the upright position of a sit up on the fifty-yard line of the college football field. There she was positioned facing the tunnel through which the team entered the field. Seated, hands behind her head knees slightly bent and about thirty degrees apart. She did not know that summer football drills would begin the second week of classes. Bubba and Pam. football player and cheerleader respectively, owned this idea.

Position Seven sounded easy but was tough on Linda to achieve. On an inflatable mat she was to lie on her back with hands and feet in the water legs and spread, adrift in the middle of the campus outdoor Olympic size pool. This was Ned and Frannie’s project as Ned was a part time lifeguard for the pool complex and Frannie was on the women’s water polo team.

The class went from venue to venue and checked out the acceptability of each situation. Doctor Dunphy liked every suggestion and added some physiological ideas as to how Linda should be posed. He positioned her and then would glide his hands over her nude body to show the stress of some muscle group and the relaxation of another in the same pose. Details such as would make or break a drawing for his class.

It was now eleven forty five and the class was technically over. Linda had to walk from the Natatorium to the Arts Building to collect her clothing and belongings and then get a bite to eat.

Ethan Dunphy walked with her a portion of the way and part of his instruction to her was, “tell Mark and Gwen you are not to wear anything except sandals to your class any longer, we don’t want pressure marks on your skin when you are posing.”

Linda shuddered. She was to come on campus nude and remain nude throughout the morning. Suddenly it dawned on her. The officer at the gate, George, talking to Auntie Gwen, and Auntie Gwen telling George he would be seeing a lot more of me while school was in session.

She laughed to herself and looked forward to what the afternoon might hold for her with trepidation.

[barelin]

End of Part 1

Summer Session
by Chessman
Part 2

LUNCH BREAK IS OVER…LET THE AFTERNOON CLASS BEGIN

Linda stopped in the gymnasium to slip into her clothing before going to lunch. She opened her bag for her student ID and found a note from Auntie Gwen stuffed inside. This she read as she ate an egg salad sandwich on whole wheat bread and a small side salad of endive, chard and tomato. After drinking a large glass of water she went in search of a ladies room before heading off to class.

Doctor Joyce Heath entered room 303 of the Liberal Arts Building on the campus of Philadelphia Fashion Institute of Technology, better known to all as P-FIT, knowing that the next six weeks were going to be special for her class and for herself.

She was testing new paradigms within the parameters of this summer session class; ones where she hoped to examine one of the most basic of human emotions. Situational Psychology, the title Joyce had given to the course, was a cover, a beard as it were. The course was designed to explore the seven sins and how people reacted to them in public settings. Hence the situational part of the title. Her class would put people in a position to witness one of the seven sins and analyze the reactions. So then, the question became how to introduce pride, wrath, sloth, envy, desire, and jealousy into social settings. Joyce intended to do it using one special student and to further enhance the experience for the class they were also to measure that student’s shame level when forced to cause one of the seven sin reactions in the people with whom she interacted.

She had a class of twenty-eight. Rather large for a summer session class. but most of the students were long distance independent studies students within her department who were meeting together to fulfill the mandatory campus time required by the syllabus. Joyce saw this as an opportunity for the students to carry the research back into their home communities and continue on with it, thus adding to the data for her research paper.

Her friends, Mark and Gwen Chessman, had introduced her to their submissive ward, Linda, who was to take the course. Without knowing who she was, Linda had served Joyce food, oiled her body poolside and otherwise fulfilled the desires and wants Joyce had expressed while a guest in the Chessman home. Joyce had decided then and there that Linda would be the research tool for the class and Joyce believed that Linda could induce at least six of the sins in those around her, though Joyce was not sure about sloth.

“Ah,” Joyce thought,” there she is in the second row near the window.” Joyce coughed to bring the classes attention toward her. She then got the reaction from Linda she had hoped for. The girl’s face expressed shock and perhaps understanding when she saw that the woman who had sunbathed nude by the Chessman pool only the day before was her psychology professor. Joyce had spoken to Ethan Dunphy, briefly, and had been told about Linda’s position as Life Study Model in her morning class. What she was about to do to Linda now would confirm the girl’s status on campus for the near future.

“Class, we have a minor celebrity taking our course with us,” good Doctor Heath announced to the other twenty-eight people in the room. All the students were looking about trying to discover who that might be when Joyce spoke, ”Linda, please stand up.”

Linda rose from her seat, she was back in her short pleated skirt and midi top and was physically shaking when Joyce asked her, “Linda aren’t you the Life Studies Model for Doctor Dunphy’s class?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Linda responded.

“Class, as you may know, traditionally the Life Studies Model at P-FIT, once selected, is to remain nude at all times while on campus for the duration of the semester or in this case the summer session he or she was selected. For that time, while on campus, he or she may wear sandals and jewelry but no clothing. Linda has obviously not wanted to offend anyone in this class and so has slipped on some coverage. Would anyone object if she was to spend her time in class properly attired as the campus Life Study Model?” Doctor Heath looked around the room and there was no show of hands or voiced opposition.

“Well, then, Linda, I believe you may remove your top and skirt and from now on just remember to bring a towel with you to cover your chair. Class, for the next six weeks, Linda shall be nude while in this class.” Joyce watched carefully as the girl pulled the midi top off over her head and then unbuttoned and unzipped the skirt and let it fall to the floor. ”Now, Linda, would you bring those up here to my desk? Then stand in front of the class and display yourself, please.” Joyce held out her hand, Linda went forward, handed the professor her clothing, and then turned to the class. Placing her hands fingers interlocked behind her head and spreading her legs to a forty-five degree angle, Linda stood up straight in the display position.

“Class, I invite each of you to come up one at a time and inspect Linda. You may touch her, but you must not arouse her. Pay particular note to the jewelry Linda is wearing. There will be a question and answer period after each of you has the opportunity to examine her.” Joyce then sat back on her chair and watched the parade of students come forward for professorial approved touchy feely.

Nine curious women and six men later, with eleven more in the line behind the buxom thirty something blond who was now stroking the small of Linda’s back, Linda turned to Joyce and begged, “Please Doctor Heath, stop this or let me touch myself.”

“Touch yourself, Linda, do you mean masturbate? Do you want to masturbate in front of the class Linda? Did your uncle and auntie give you permission to masturbate Linda? I will have to report this to them, you know.” Doctor Heath felt as if she had the control, as she knew the young submissive would be severely punished for pleasuring herself without permission.

“Look in my purse, there is a note,” Linda said with her voice heightened in emotional overdrive while a tall athletically built man fondled her pierced nipples and then traced a finger down her abdomen to her navel. The touch ended with just a tiny flick at the studded bar in her clitoral hood.

“To whom this may come, my niece Linda has our permission to bring herself to climax while at P-FIT, the act must be done publicly and witnessed by no less than three other persons. Campus Police and the Administration have been advised by email that her uncle, Mark Chessman, and I her Auntie Gwen have given her this permission.” Joyce Heath read the note aloud to the class. “Well then, Linda, go to it and have at it, and we expect a 'When Harry Met Sally' size orgasm.”

Linda broke position, as she had been given permission. She took the fingers of her right hand and spread her labia open. Using the fingers of her left hand she began massaging her clitoris and then still using the thumb of her left hand on her now erect pleasure organ she inserted two fingers into her vaginal passage and began easing them in and out rhythmically.

Her breathing changed in three minutes, her eyes glazed over in five, and at five minutes thirty seconds she collapsed on the floor.

As she was recovering, Joyce Heath asked the class, “Well, how many in the class experienced envy for Linda, that she is able to be nude and to masturbate in public with permission?” About seven women and two men raised their hands.

“How many of you are jealous of her?” Almost half the class showed hands.

“How many of you were desirous to be the person bringing her to orgasm?” All but two of the student’s hands went up.

“Thank you Linda for opening up discussion on the topic of this class. Class, we are studying Situational Psychology, the psychology of how and why people react as they do in certain social situations. Your first assignment is to write a short paper on how you felt on learning Linda was the Life Studies Model and would be spending this summer session on campus nude. Part two of the paper is to be your reaction to being able to touch Linda and whether despite my instructions not to you did indeed sneak a caress that might have been sensual or arousing in nature, thus stimulating Linda to the point she begged for release. The third portion of the paper is to be your reactions to watching Linda masturbate. This paper will be due tomorrow at start of class. Linda, as the subject of this experiment you are exempt from the paper, your effort today earned you an A.” With that Joyce dismissed the class.

Gwen was not due to pick Linda up until four forty-five. It was now just after two thirty p.m..

She walked up to Joyce and asked for her clothing back. Joyce smiled and said,as she had been told,” It's okay, honey, I’ll give them to Gwen when she comes to pick you up later. Now run along, and seize the day.”

So, nude, Linda sat campfire style with her sketchpad across her knees watching the ebb and flow of students and staff and sketching the statue by the flagpole in the center of the campus quad.

Ethan Dunphy came up behind her and coughed so as to not scare her out of her concentration. “You have an excellent sense of perspective and definition, Linda, you have the potential to be a very good artist.”

“Thank you, Doctor, and don’t answer me because if you lie I’ll know…Uncle Mark and Auntie Gwen had this all set up before I even attended one class didn’t they?” Linda looked and when she saw the grin on her professor’s face she knew she was right.

“Linda, your Aunt Camille, your legal guardian, is a graduate of P-FIT and has endowed a chair in the Fabrics and Textiles department. Doctor Heath and I both knew you were on not only academic probation here but also under submissive discipline through your Aunt. Mark and Gwen Chessman are good friends of the campus as well, Gwen served as Life Studies Model two semesters in a row, and right through the coldest winter we’ve ever had. Now between Camille and the Chessmans' influence and your probationary status academically, what do you think?” When Linda didn’t answer Dunphy continued, “If you do well for the next six weeks, and in the second summer session, all will be forgiven here at P-FIT and you will be reinstated as a full time student. There is a possibility that the Chessmans will lift your home discipline as well. If at any time you need to dance the foxtrot, just tell Joyce or I, we will test your limits, but you are not ours to break.” Ethan Dunphy then left the girl to her drawing.

Linda thought, after Ethan Dunphy left her, that if her professors knew her safe word, this meant there was communication between P-FIT, her aunt, and the Chessmans. She was under a microscope, being studied as she studied. She vowed to herself that she would strive to do her best and as Gwen had once instructed her, enjoy the pleasure and endure the pain. She checked the time on her watch, and packed her belongings. She then began her walk to the faculty parking lot to wait for Auntie Gwen to pick her up.

“Halt right there, young lady,” she heard behind her. She turned to see George, the sergeant on the campus police department waving his hand, signaling to her to come back to him. Warily she did so.

“Linda, you are campus Life Studies Model. You might not be aware of it, but that affords you some privileges even if it does not afford you any clothing. When you arrive on campus in the morning, come to the gate house first, an officer with a golf cart will be there to take you wherever you need to go. If you are detained until after dark or if your Uncle Mark or Auntie Gwen cannot pick you up for some reason, use the campus phone system and one of our patrol cars will bring you home. By the way, I was a rookie here when your Auntie Gwen was Life Studies Model. She has become a legend and you should be proud to follow in her footsteps.” George motioned behind him where a campus police golf cart sat idling. “Get in and I’ll drive you down to the parking lots.”

Linda got in and suddenly realized she had enjoyed the pleasure of her situation thus far. In fact she could not wait until tomorrow.

Gwen watched as the golf cart approached, and Linda got out, thanking George again for the lift. As she walked to the car she saw Joyce Heath occupying the passenger front seat. Her clothing was neatly folded on the rear driver side of the car. Auntie Gwen told her to get in the back seat and she did so.

“Only one slip up today, buttercup,” Gwen noted. “You put your clothes back on. Now Joyce covered for you nicely, but you should have known that a Life Studies Model once appointed is nude for the balance of the term. I see you really did not pay attention to your schooling for that first year and a half on campus. Joyce has asked that you not be marked; Ethan could not meet with us today but will be here to speak to and about you tomorrow along with Joyce. This will be a daily ritual. So you will not have dinner this evening, you will remain in second position until Master Mark and I retire and you will then sleep at the foot of Master Mark’s bed on the floor.”

“So much for the pleasure, here comes the pain,” Linda thought as Joyce got out of the car and she got in with Gwen for the short trip home.

LATE NIGHT SNACK

[barelin]

Gwen pulled the Nitro into the garage of the Chessman home and instructed Linda to go the exercise room and set Bruce, the treadmill, up for a five-mile run.

Gwen then came up to my study, having stripped in the garage as per her usual routine, and knelt by my chair until I was finished with the portion of paragraph I was reworking on my computer.

“Yes,” I said, looking down at her as she posed in position one, “What news do you have from the college?”

“She failed to know the code of the Life Studies Model and after being so named put her clothing one for lunch and the start of her afternoon class. Joyce corrected her gently in class and she humiliated herself by publicly masturbating due to arousal by touch, but I told her more house punishment would be forthcoming, Master Mark.”

(Gwen and I are married but at home she is the sub to my Dom and in public she refers to me as Husband rather than Master. We know the terms are interchangeable. In much the same way Linda refers to us as Uncle Mark and Auntie Gwen, knowing that the substitution of more socially acceptable words does not change the meaning of Master and Mistress.)

“What did you tell her?” I asked, as Gwen knew there were limits to her control over Linda and she must not cross over without my approval.

“That she would remain in position two until we tired of seeing her that way and that she was forbidden her bed tonight, she would sleep at the foot of yours, Husband.” Gwen’s look suggested she hoped she had not overstepped her authority.

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“In the exercise room.”

“Alright,” I nodded, “though I might modify the sleeping on the floor, she needs her rest if she is to succeed in her classes. Exercise her, have her drink plenty of water, two liters minimum, and then position her.” I then indicated I would be down as soon as I figured out the paragraph I was having a hard time reworking after my editor blue-penciled it.

Gwen, who was both my wife and my editor, giggled at that. The only portions of my life that she controlled were my many manuscripts and that was real power for if my books did not sell we did not eat.

When I appeared in the exercise room about half an hour later I saw that Linda was still on the treadmill and she was puffing with exertion. Standing next to her, Gwen held a slender birch switch, which by the looks of Linda’s derriere had been applied more than once.

“She was slowing down too much, Master Mark, I had to encourage her,” Gwen reported.

“Should any of these encouragements be visible tomorrow, I will lay on twice as many at full force on your precious butt, my love,” I glared and Gwen cowered. “I told you no marks for as long as she is the campus Life Style Model.”

Gwen dropped the switch and went down into position one with her head bowed. She had not expected that reaction.

“Up,” I ordered. “How much longer and further was Linda to run?”

Gwen looked over and said, “One and three quarters miles, Master Mark.”

“Girl, get off of the treadmill. Woman, amp the speed up to maximum and finish Girl’s run,” Gwen now knew I was seriously angry. It was the first time I had dropped the use of names and simply referred to the females as Girl and Woman. I had revoked status and it would be a while before Gwen was given permission to use her name again.

“Girl, I will be driving you to campus and picking you up for the next several days. Woman has no identity and therefore no identification. Woman shall be confined to the house under punishment and shall be treated like an unhousebroken pet. If you see woman attempting to act like a human being you may beat her and say, “Bad woman” if you see her scratching at the door to the backyard, would you please let her out so that she does not soil the carpet with her messes? Oh and Girl, you will sleep in the bed in the room for one called Linda; however, until you learn what it means to be campus Life Style Model you will simply be called Girl. I will test you orally when you think you are ready. Until then you do not have permission to use your voice. You may research the topic on the internet but you may not sit down. Until you pass the test you will stand so the sooner you are ready to be tested the sooner you will be allowed to sit or lie down.

Her legs, out of exertion from the run, were shaking now. By the time she knocked on my door to be quizzed the pain should be just about unbearable.

“Woman, I saw you grab the side rails, reset the time for another 15 minutes and the distance for another mile and one half,” I yelled over at Gwen though I had not even glanced at her. I heard the beeping of the settings pad and knew she had complied. This would only last for a day and a half, for two reasons, first of course the book was on deadline and I needed my editor and second, I just could not stay mad at Gwen that long.

I quizzed Linda later that same night. Out of twenty questions about the Campus Life Style Model she got one wrong. A much better than passing grade, but as it was a five-point deduction from 100%, I decided five soft swats with the flat of my hand would make up the grade. She only missed “Who on campus may punish the Campus Life Style Model? Her answer was his or her master or mistress. In theory this was correct, except the question was ‘on campus’. On campus the Life Style Model could be humiliated; however, the model could only be punished in private in a residence. This could be a dorm room with the door closed or in our case in my house. Linda took her five swats and I then asked her,” Girl, do you have a name?”

She promptly answered, correctly, “No, Sir, I have no name.”

“I think it pleases me to call you, Butter Buns,” I stated waiting to see her reaction.

“Yes, Sir, Butter Buns is here to serve and obey, Sir,” she replied.

I then rubbed her backside, making a game of her humiliation; ”I wonder how your classmates will react knowing you have changed your name to Butter Buns?”

This caught her short and I felt her shiver. “I know, Girl, you look like a Linda to me, would you like to be called Linda?”

“Yes Sir, very much so, Sir,” the child answered almost too enthusiastically.

“Fine, until I say otherwise you are Linda,” with a wave of my hand I dismissed her and told her to go let the woman out.

I drove Linda to the campus the next morning. George the campus police sergeant was waiting for her by the draw gate of the lot with a P-FIT golf cart.

“Morning, George,” I called out cheerfully, “Gwen is tied up with work at home, so I’ll be the Life Style Model’s chauffeur for the next day or so. You know how editors get when they have a manuscript and a deadline.”

“Sure thing, Doctor Chessman,” George responded, “Just pull up here and I’ll have the girl back to you by four forty-five. If we are going to be later I’ll call you myself.”

“Thanks, George, as you can see Linda has no place to carry a cell phone, nor change for a pay phone.”

All three of us laughed at that one. George had provided Linda with a nice plush towel to sit on in the golf cart and told her to use it for the day and he would see to its being washed when she returned it after classes.

Four thirty in the afternoon found me waiting for Linda in the parking lot, having left Gwen collared and leashed at the back door of the house. Linda was really excited and started to jabber about her day as soon as she sat in the car.

I held up one finger to my lips and Linda stopped talking. I then said, “What happened to, ‘Uncle Mark, may I tell you about my day?’”

The joy on her face slipped away and she got very quiet.

“No, darling, don’t get me wrong, I want to hear everything that happened during your time away from us, both the good and the bad, open and honest is what we expect from you. Your role in the family does require you to ask for my attention, though. Try to remember that in the future.” I decided that enthusiasm should not be trampled and no punishment for this slip would result.

“Oh, sorry, Uncle Mark, let’s start again, okay” My I tell you about my day?” Linda smiled.

“Please do,” I chuckled.

“Well, I went into my morning class and before I started posing for the class members Doctor Dunphy called me to the front of the class and told me to bring my sketch book. He took two charcoals from the book and laid them on an overhead projector. One was of the Campus quad with the statue of the founders and the flagpole. The second was one I had done just to kill time, a self portrait of my left foot.” She paused for a moment and I let out a laugh.

“Your left WHAT?” my laugh got louder.

“FOOT, you silly Uncle you. Anyway Professor Dunphy, he told me today to call him Doc Ethan, is that okay Uncle Mark? Anyway, he pointed out portions of the sketches and talked to the class about depth and proportion and how they either could make or break a drawing and how mine was very well developed, my sense of depth and proportion, not my FOOT,” she had caught me before I got the remark out, “AND SINCE ONE OF THE DRAWINGS I HAD DONE WAS OF MY FOOT, AND SINCE I AM THE LIFE STYLE MODEL,” she had gotten louder as I had begun tickling the foot in question, I stopped and she resumed a more normal tone of voice, “Doc Ethan gave me an A for the first class assignment.”

“Wonderful, and now I can see why you were so excited you forgot protocol,” I replied, “When may I see that work of art?”

“I have it in my portfolio in the back seat, Uncle Mark, would you like to see it right now?” She asked.

Inside this shapely young woman was a very young girl still seeking a daddy’s approval. I turned the Lexus off and told her to get her folio and show me the work.

It was quite good, detailed down to blades of grass sticking to her toes and a broken ragged big toenail, I smiled when I saw in perfect detail and proportion the face of a young man peeking between the big and second toe. It was as if she had used her foot as a gun sight to focus on the boy in question.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“Oh, one of the guys in my afternoon class, Uncle Mark. I was trying to include as much detail as possible and just saw him sitting there visible between my toes, so I put him in.” Linda shrugged and smiled. She also wiggled on her towel a bit.

“That hot, eh,” I laughed, “A girl doesn’t leak like that for just any boy.”

“Uncle Mark, I barely know his name, Uhm, it is Phil, but he is a hottie,” Linda agreed.

“No sex without permission and we get to meet the boy before anything happens between you, understood?” My role as her guardian came out at that point.

“Yes, Uncle Mark.” She paused, then, “Do you want to hear about my afternoon class?” She put her sketches back into her folio and zipped it shut.

“Can I listen while I drive?”

“Yes sir,” she stated, "no artwork for this story."

I started the Lexus and pulled away from the curb. I waived to the officer on duty at the gates of the college and pulled out into town.

“Well Doctor Heath had given the class a reaction assignment to my need to relieve myself sexually”, she paused.

I interrupted her, “If you mean masturbate, say masturbate, Linda.”

“Masturbate, then, and some of the reactions were priceless.” She said.

”Continue…” I instructed.

“Well they had to name the emotion, like envy, jealousy, lust, and so on that they felt while they watched me per…uh…masturbate, and then tell what they would have liked to do themselves at that particular moment.” Linda said. “One woman. Marge something or other, is in her forties. Her report said she started out angry, that I was nude in class and allowing everyone to touch me. But, after she had come up and caressed me she was actually envious and jealous that I was getting the attention and she could not.” Linda paused to catch her breath.

“And…” I drew her back into the conversation.

“Doctor Heath instructed the class, now there are twenty-eight of us in this class mind you, that if at anytime the sight of me so aroused lustful thoughts in anyone of either sex; they were permitted to strip and come to the front of the class and do as I had done yesterday. I think the only thing that woman, Marge, needed was permission. She whipped off her sundress in two seconds flat, yanked off her hi-rise briefs and was on the stool in front of the class pounding away at herself like there was no tomorrow.” Linda finished her tale and giggled. “She was shocked though when Doctor heath told her that from that point forward she was to attend class nude. Doctor Heath added that as a caveat to her previous statement. Any student in the class who stripped off and masturbated for the class was to thereafter come to class nude.”

“So now there are two of you in Joyce’s class naked,” I laughed, “Good old Joyce! Her teaching methods are always innovative.”

“Oh, the best part is still to come, Uncle Mark, no pun intended,” Linda giggled, “the boy in the picture I sketched, stood and read his paper and it almost mirrored the one Marge had written. He too was jealous of the fact I could walk the campus nude without ridicule or ostracism and masturbate publicly without fear of censure. His name is Phil, like I told you before. Doctor Heath asked him point blank if he were given the chance to be naked all the time while on campus, would he act as my male counterpart? Phil was very excited when he answered yes. She asked him if he would strip there and then. He didn’t answer he just pulled off his T-shirt and cargo shorts he was commando beneath them and also quite erect. She instructed him that this would not do and would either of the two women in class who were nude please see to Phil’s problem. Marge got to him first. And I knew I could not do anything without your permission. She used her mouth and hand on him for about five minutes and then stood aside as he launched a cum shot that must have gone into the second row of student seats.” Linda paused for breath.

“Wow, sounds like a really exciting class you are taking,” I said in a way hoping to encourage her to say more.

“Yes, sir, and I cannot wait until tomorrow to go back to both classes. I never knew a college education could be so, ummm, stimulating,” Linda giggled.

ENGLISH MUFFINS WITH JAM

We arrived home and I parked the Lexus in the garage next to the Nitro. Linda got out with her school supplies and took the towel off of the leather seat. Despite the towel there was a damp spot. Talking about her Psych class and her classmates Marge and Phil must have aroused her. As I had asked for details and not forbidden her excitement I let the damp spot pass.

If I get Gwen pregnant and if we have a girl, I pretty much want her to grow up to be like Linda. Oh, not the slacker part mind you, but the free spirit that was blossoming in her since she had been dominated by and submitted to her aunt Camille and subsequently came under our guardianship. That is the little girl I would like to raise.

I pulled off my clothing and walked into the kitchen through the door off of the garage, naked and semi erect. Linda opened the sliding door leading to the outer patio and pool off of the kitchen and the woman with no name crawled in on hands and knees. My ‘pet’ came over and seeing my erection began to suckle on my penis. I filled her mouth with my ejaculate in less than two minutes. I too was somewhat aroused by the tales my ward had told me.

“Good woman,” She knew better than to swallow without permission, I said, and looked over to Linda, ”do you think this good woman deserves a name, Linda?”

“Yes Uncle Mark I think she does,” the coed answered.

“What shall I call her then?” I asked Linda and as if scripted Linda responded, ”Bubble Butt, Uncle Mark?”

“No, look at that scrawny pathetic excuse for a butt, Linda, we can’t call her Bubble Butt,” I replied.

“Oh, what was I thinking Uncle Mark, you are so right, uhm, I don’t have any idea what you should call her, Uncle Mark,” she finished her part.

“I know, she looks like a Gwen,” I said, “I think I shall call her Gwen.”

“You can swallow now, Gwen,” I finally told her and she did before another drop dripped down her chest.

“Gwen, why were you being punished? You may speak now,” I told her.

“I overstepped my authority and went against your instructions to me,” she responded.

“Don’t promise me you won’t do it again, we all know it isn’t in you not to try, and punishment for lying is much much worse.” I added.

“I will try to listen better and understand the limits you set, Husband,” she replied.

I walked to her held her hand pulled her to her feet and kissed her with a tongue-thrashing kiss that left me tasting my own seed and her passion. I was instantly aroused again and in painful need. Neither dismissing Linda from the room nor caring if she watched, I bent Gwen over a kitchen chair and pillaged her rear passage. No lubrication, just anal penetration and rough sex until I came again. Her well used bottom opened to me almost automatically, but I knew she was shocked that I was that aroused again so quickly.

Finished with her I told her, “You have a manuscript to edit, go upstairs and do your work. Oh, and do not leak on my chairs. Use a butt plug and a towel.”

Gwen Chessman, Bachelor of Arts, Master of Education in English Composition, licensed teacher of high school English, clamped her tender backside together and climbed the stairs looking not like an editor or educator but rather an illustration in a pornographic magazine.

The novel was due to the publisher on Friday, it was Tuesday night and I still had only rough notes for the last two chapters. I’d lost a day because I lost my temper and decided to discipline Gwen. I sat down at the kitchen table and Linda handed me something. While I was pillaging Gwen, she had made an English muffin in the toaster and she put it in front of me with a jam pot of elderberry jam.

It was on a plate and she had a napkin and a spoon for the jam as well. “Eat,” she said, “your blood sugar must be in the toilet right now.”

I ate, and drank a mug of Earle Grey tea she made for me. I did feel better after this light meal and went up the stairs to find Gwen. Linda handed me a plate and a mug for Gwen, “after all she hasn’t eaten since you put her under discipline, Uncle Mark, and if you want her editing to be sharp and your manuscript to impress the publishers, she needs to eat.”

Linda was to swim thirty laps of the pool today. We alternated her run and the swim to keep the muscles balanced. I told her to hold a kick board between her knees and only use her arms for the first fifteen laps.

I walked into the upstairs study and there Gwen was on a towel checking my work on the computer. I set the plate and cup down and simply said, “EAT!”

If I had treated her to Kobe beef she would not have enjoyed it more. The muffin and tea disappeared very quickly and she licked the bits of jam from her fingers. "Now, go shower. Take your time, flush yourself out, and come back in that heavy terry cloth robe we picked up in Las Vegas. You were shuddering before."

“I was cold and hungry, Husband, and I am still tired,” Gwen responded.

“Shower, robe, come here and we’ll cuddle and nap for a while. This mess will still be here at three in the morning.” I told her.

That is what we did, this time our lovemaking was slow tender and vaginal. If she weren’t pregnant by now she never would be.

The alarm went off at three and we both awoke finding ourselves refreshed and focused. Down we sat and had both final chapters roughed out by the time came to take Linda to her morning classes.

Gwen and I walked downstairs, nude, to be met by our ward working in the kitchen like a little domestic, she had laid out a platter of French toast, a pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice, and a large thermos of French Market coffee from New Orleans.

“I kind of knew what Auntie Gwen normally made for breakfast, Uncle Mark, and since the two of you were busy with the editing of the book, and for some reason after about three in the morning I couldn’t sleep,” she smiled she had heard us wake up and resume our love making at the sound of the alarm, before we got down to work. “So I came down here and fixed us a little something to start the day.”

“Good Girl, Linda and thank you so much, Gwen will clean up after us. She will get right back to the editing while I drive you in. Hmm, the Bushnell weather station indicates it is 58 degrees and raining, is the Life Style Model ready for a day in a chilly rainstorm?” I asked her.

“Auntie Gwen told me about her being the Life Style Model for her entire Junior year, wasn’t it, Auntie?” Gwen nodded in the affirmative, “So I guess if she can do it all winter in 20 degrees and snow and slush I can survive the 50s, Uncle Mark.”

“Good Girl,” I commended her, but did not mention that the possibility of her being the Life Style Model for the next two full semesters existed, so that she would have spent an entire year on campus nude and open to sketching and inspection.

Feeling like a dirty old flasher, once we had eaten, I tossed on only boat shoes and a raincoat and went to the Lexus while Gwen helped Linda wrap her folio in a large clear garbage bag to protect it while she was in the open.

Nude but for a pair of Crocs on her feet, Linda opened the back door, tossed in her carryall of art supplies and her folio and off we set for the college campus.

George, the campus police sergeant, was there to meet us with the golf cart and the transfer of student from car to cart went well. Linda was provided with an extra towel and a large golf umbrella in the school colors to use for the day.

What awaited me at the end of Linda’s school day was more interesting than yesterday. First, though, I had to return home and resolve the mess I called the ending of my book. I was still all over the map trying to resolve plot lines and I needed that one last paragraph of dialogue, pithy enough that readers wanted to come back for the next book in the series.

Gwen met me at the door. She had, in her hand, three of the wands that women pee on to see if they are pregnant. She had, on her face, the biggest smile I had ever seen in our time of dating and marriage.

“Well,” I asked, I would be happy either way, of course for this is the woman I loved, children or no children, ”are we or aren’t we?”

She did not reply, instead she just handed me the wands and scampered off to the upstairs study.

According to the three of those things we most definitely were. I think the smile that split my face was even bigger than hers and I raced up the stairs after her. Peeling off the raincoat and kicking off the shoes as I went, I chased after her until we both fell on my bed laughing.

“Oh, well,” I said, ”we may as well make sure it sticks,” and we did twice and got nothing else accomplished until it was time to pick Linda up from campus.

Gwen went back to work on the manuscript and I hopped back into the Lexus in my raincoat and boat shoes.

Linda was waiting at the faculty parking lot as usual and there was a rather good-looking naked young man standing with her.

“Uncle Mark, do I have permission to speak?” I nodded yes. "I’d like to introduce Phil, my male Life Style Model counterpart. We would like your permission to have Phil over as my guest for dinner and possibly overnight after I talk to you and Auntie Gwen.” Linda spewed.

“Granted on my part, for dinner anyway, you two sit in the back seat and I’ll get you to our house as quickly as possible.” I was wondering where all of this was leading.

Just then a beep came on the Lexus sound system and I pressed the button for talk, “This is Mark, I am driving this is on speaker and hands free,” I said, so if the matter was private the caller would call back.

“Hi, Mark, it’s Joyce,” the voice on the other end spoke, “I suppose this means you have the two Life Style Models in your vehicle?”

“Indeed yes.”

“They will fill you in when they have to, Mark,” Joyce said, “but starting next Monday we are moving the experiment out of the class room and on to the campus proper. You remember how this happened when Gwen was the Life Style Model, correct?”

I thought to myself, ‘this was moving quicker than a normal semester,’ but then again Joyce only had six weeks to accomplish what she normally did in fifteen.

“Understood,” I spoke into the ether, “I’ll let the kids tell me more at home.”

“And Mark,” Joyce added before breaking the connection, "the following Monday we move the experiment off campus.” The click over the radio speakers told me the connection had been severed.

“Let’s wait until we are with Auntie Gwen before we talk about all of this, Linda,” I said.

“Yes, Uncle Mark,” was the polite answer I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the two students were sharing one very tiny towel in the back seat.

I pulled the car into the garage about seventeen minutes later, and via the house intercom, asked Gwen to meet Linda and me in the living room. I did not tell her we had a guest. There was no need as by now I had removed the raincoat and boat shoes and was as naked as the two young people standing with me. I sincerely doubted that Phil would take offence at my thirty-seven year old wife’s nude body. If he did he could look elsewhere.

Gwen bounced happily down the stairs and stopped at the foot of them to stare at the new nude male in the house, “Well, I’ll bet this is the Phil we’ve been hearing so much about,” she said with a grin on her face. She walked over to him and kissed him on both of his cheeks, and then I saw her hand sweep low and caress Phil’s manhood. It jumped from limp to semi-erect in about fifteen seconds.

Gwen looked over to me and asked, “Husband, we can’t allow our guest to be uncomfortable, now, can we?”

If she thought I was going to allow her to deal with our guest she had another thing coming to her. I said, “Linda, you may pleasure your guest orally or anally but he is to come nowhere near your vagina, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Uncle Mark,” she replied excitedly, then, ”Privately or right here?”

I looked at Gwen, she nodded, “The first time, here, then for the rest of the night you may have the privacy of your room, with the door open.”

“Yes, Uncle Mark,” she said happily and fell to her knees in front of her young man.

“Don’t forget to swallow when you are done, Linda,” I added.

She simply nodded her head and kept on sucking.

A PICNIC LUNCH ON THE QUAD

This morning had dawned differently than the on previous day of Linda’s college summer sessions. Today was the day the male and female Life Style Models were to take their debut walk about the entire campus, open for the inspection of all students, faculty and guests. Dr. Joyce heath had decided, after seeing the stimulation provided by her students, Linda, Phil, and Marge, and the reactions of the other members of the class, that the time had come to bring the experiment outside the classroom walls.

Why? The answer was simply because that of the twenty-eight students in the class twenty-four of them were now as naked as the Life Style Models. Two sisters of the Temple of the Sky Clad Goddess, who were studying for their priestess credentials, had oddly enough not yet removed any article of clothing nor had the scenes enacted in the class aroused them. This type of desensitizing to nudity and public sexual display was part of the novitiate training in the religion and the sisters, while embracing the unclothed ideal, chose to set themselves apart. The other two were older women who had body image issues. They also embraced the freedom their peers had chosen, but could not bring themselves to participate. Joyce Heath had also begun to conduct her seminars while nude, in an effort to reassure the two women mentioned earlier. It had not worked as yet but the session was only a week and two days old at this point.

The reason for Phil staying over at Mark and Gwen’s the night before was so that he and Linda could get to know each other in a more intimate fashion. The would be called upon by the students and faculty on campus to perform acts separately and together publicly that they might not feel comfortable with unless and until they had experimented privately.

So on this bright late spring morning just before Memorial Day Gwen drove Linda and Phil back to P-Fit’s campus and was met by George the campus police sergeant in the faculty parking lot. The ritual transfer of the Life Style Models into the care of the campus police over, George asked Gwen if she and Mark would be coming back to campus for the celebration. The release of the Life Style Model onto the campus in general was always accompanied by a picnic in the quadrangle that fronted the Library, the Student Center, the Liberal Arts building, and the Fine Arts building.

During the picnic time the Life Style Models would be on pedestals and available to anyone wishing to caress, touch, fondle, or speak to them about their choice. Both Doctor Ethan Dunphy and Doctor Joyce Heath would also present the opening for anyone else wishing to participate in the life style. As was the usual at P-FIT, anyone who chose to attend class nude would be allowed to do so. Also if the majority of a class chose nudity the class could vote for their professor to teach the course nude as well.

The Picnic was, therefore, and exciting and pivotal moment of campus life at P-FIT. As the student body and faculty convened, most of the faculty was wearing their academic gowns and caps; as this was not a graduation such dress would be perceived to be anomalous by students new to P-FIT, particularly in the heat of this late spring day.

Doctor Joyce Heath stepped up to a podium and after a sound check called upon the students assembled to find a place on the grass and sit. Once most of the crowd had settled she spoke. “Our founder, George Alpan, considered himself to be a man ahead of his time. He took very seriously the name he bore. Some of you may know that Alpan was an Etruscan goddess, believed to be the goddess of both the underworld, the place where souls dwell for eternity, and of sexual love. Doctor Alpan had a statue of the goddess winged and nude save for a neck collar wristlets and anklets, oh yes, and wings, in his office on this campus to the day he passed on to his great reward in his underworld. That statue is now the centerpiece of the Alpan Memorial Fountain in front of the library.

“Because of his research into his name, Doctor Alpan became more and more interested in the belief system surrounding Alpan. One of the things he discovered was that most worship of the goddess was done sky clad, which is ritualistically nude, and that the power to feel the goddess at work in the life around you was best felt and worked with while nude. This is why at every opening of every school session a Life Style Model is chosen to represent the ideal to which Doctor Alpan wished this campus ascribe.

“In past years only a female Life Style Model was chosen. Some of the past Life Style Models have returned to campus today to join us in celebration of our new Life Style Models. Ladies, if you will...” Joyce and seven other women on the dais behind her pulled the ties at the necks of their capes and a shocked murmur went through the student assembly as the women stood and proudly presented themselves nude. The rest of the faculty present quickly followed the seven.

“This is what it means to be sky clad, to celebrate life naturally, without the pretense of clothing or the slavery to fashion.

“I present to you, Linda, this summer session's female Life Style Model.” Linda stepped forward and climbed the two steps to her pedestal. “and Phil her male counterpart,” Phil did the same on the opposite side.

“These two fine students shall be the exemplars of Doctor Alpan’s desire to see pretense and false modesty banned from the P-FIT campus forever.”

Gwen had been one of the seven to remove her cloak at Joyce’s signal. She now walked among the students, chatting them up and answering a multitude of questions. Mark sat, by the library, near the statue of the goddess Alpan, and watched his wife work the crowd. He was content.

He noticed that the pedestals had enough room that one or two other persons might climb up and examine the Life Style Model on them. Linda and Phil were being examined and talked to by a constant flow of questioning students equally male and female for each.

Still sky clad, Doctor Joyce Heath regained the microphone and made the announcement, “Any student here today wishing to renounce the slavery to fashion and express the pure desire to learn, may now remove his or her clothing and for the balance of this summer session and may freely express themselves on this campus, SKY CLAD!”

A huge cheer and round of applause followed along with the divestiture of a great deal of clothing. The split among those who had shed their garments.was about sixty forty male to female. The former Life Style Model alumni went about with baskets picking up the discarded clothing, which would be laundered and distributed, to the poor and homeless by the acolytes of the Temple of The Sky Clad Goddess.

Meanwhile Joyce was finishing her speech, “While the sky clad lifestyle may lead to sexual openness, it does not mean that everyone must participate in open sex. We grant the life style models a greater freedom, as part of their duties is to allow anyone wishing to do so to touch them, caress them, and even lightly fondle them. If they become overly stimulated they have permission to masturbate, as long as there are a minimum of three witnesses to the act and those witnesses attest to the fact the Life Style Model was overly stimulated.

“All of you are encouraged to explore your own bodies, and those of your chosen lovers, anywhere but here on the quad.” Joyce Heath’s comment drew a ripple of laughter from the crowd, the majority of whom were already exploring the new campus dress code.

A MEMORIAL DAY BEACH BARBEQUE

Linda was sitting next to Marisol, one of the two members of the sisterhood who were in her afternoon psych class. They had been chatting for several days about Linda’s status as the summer session Life Style Model and comparing it with Marisol’s status within the Temple circle.

Marisol explained, "The Temple of The Sky Clad Goddess is an offshoot of Stregheria tradition. It holds to the Romanesque Italian form of Goddess worship, with the Horned God being paired to the Goddess; however, the Goddess is the vessel from which life flowed and sexual satisfaction was realized.

"Women desiring to become priestesses in the Temple go through four stages of consecration before becoming a full priestess. Acolytes are those who have taken no vows as yet and are simply learning the Way and pursuing studies in the Temple. Apprentices, who have taken the first of three vows, serve at the right hand of a priestess and are still in training, learning the rituals and magicks. Novices have taken the second vow and have been consecrated into the sisterhood by a ritual initiation and right of passage. Priestesses have taken the third and final vow and are deemed ready to lead their own circle.

“In essence,” Marisol said to Linda, ”We are the same, as I perform all of the Temple ritual sky-clad and you live a sky-clad lifestyle as does the Life Style Model.”

“But, you have the choice to put on a cape and leave the temple to come to classes here or even to just go shopping. I haven’t seen a stitch of clothing for the past three weeks now, while on campus, and won’t again until we break at the first week of July for a week before the second session. I’m already assured of being the Life Style Model for that session as well.” Linda responded.

Marisol stood and removed her cape. Linda was awed by the olive skinned, raven-haired woman’s figure. At least a size twelve, perhaps a fourteen, with full breasts and hips and curves to personify the woman goddess. Her clitoris was pierced, as were her nipples and navel, and what set her apart from any other woman walking nude on the P-FIT campus was her body suit of tattoos.

“As an acolyte I received these,” Marisol pointed out her wristlets booties and neck collar tattoos.

“As an Apprentice, it was these,” she pointed out the sleeves and the wings on her back over her shoulder blades.

“As a Novice I received the four snakes.” Marisol showed Linda the two snake tattoos tails wrapped around her upper arms and bodies seeming to slither down across the breasts with gaping mouths open near her navel. Two others began at her knees and coiled themselves up her legs until their mouths seemed to hold the very entrance of her womanhood in them.

“When I take my final vows, more symbolic art shall be placed upon me. Should I ever become a High Priestess, my head will be shaved and my entire scalp tattooed. When we worship sky-clad this is what the Horned One sees. The Goddess sees our hearts and souls.”

“What about boyfriends, you know, lovers, how do they see you?” Linda asked.

“Oh, no,” Marisol corrected Linda, ”While we are not virgins and must have had sex with at least one man before our novice commitment ceremony, after being taken in as a novice we are only allowed to pleasure ourselves and each other. We have accepted marriage to the Horned One through the Goddess. Once a year at the time of the autumnal Shabbat males who are committed to Temple service are allowed to worship their priestess.”

“Worship?” Linda asked, “Worship how?”

“Orally.”

“You are now a novice, correct?” Linda asked, ”What happens if you change your mind and wish to leave the Temple, how do you become a civilian again?”

“The tattoos you see will never go away, Linda, and the ritual to leave the priestess-hood is harsh. Very few who have come as far as I make the decision to leave.” Marisol finished her comments and looked rather sad.

“Why so down, Marisol?” Linda asked.

“I have seen two separation ceremonies in recent months. They used to be very uncommon, but two in the last half year makes me wonder about the quality of woman we have begun to accept in the Acolyte stage. Acolyte and Apprentice may leave without prejudice, it is only after the Novice promises to the Goddess and the Horned One that separation from service becomes difficult. Yet, as I have said there have been two in the last six months. Of our class only Wanda and I remain and we started as six Acolytes.

“While that makes me sad, I actually came to speak with you concerning a request your Uncle Mark and Auntie Gwen made of the sacred circle. They wished to use the retreat house we keep at the oceanfront for the Memorial Day Weekend. The Priestess has said it would be our honor to open our doors to the Life Style Model and her guardians and she asked me to extend the invitation to Doctor Dunphy and Doctor Heath as well any of the female students in our class who might wish to spend the time with us. We are currently debating whether the purity of purpose of the Male Life Style Model would allow him to be in attendance. Usually non-committed males are not allowed inside the walls. One other thing you will notice, when a committed woman is inside her sacred circle the roles she may play outside of it are suspended. Your Auntie Gwen had submitted to your Uncle Mark as husband and wife and in all things sexual, while out in the world. Inside the circle they are equals. You may notice slight differences in behavior and attitude this weekend. Remember what you see and hear.”

“Non-committed? What does that mean?”

“Males who have passed certain initiation rites binding them to the Temple and the Priestess are committed, Linda. Those who have not are non-committed. Both Doctor Chessman and Doctor Dunphy are committed males. There is never a problem with their attending a sacred circle. Young Phil, on the other hand, is a Life Style Model, but has no commitment to the disciplines of the Temple, The Priestess or the Goddess.” Marisol took a breath.

Linda had no response for this. It saddened her that Phil might not be able to attend the weekend; however, a weekend in the summer at the shore in a sky-clad beach retreat house could only be a marvelous seventy-two to ninety-four hours in Linda’s mind.

* * *

Classes ended early for the holiday weekend on the Thursday before the weekend started. This was to allow students with a distance to travel to do so before traffic became burdensome. Classes would resume at noon on Tuesday for the same reason. Thursday night came and we set off for the coast in the Nitro. As we were off campus and out of the college environment and on freeways and expressways where State Police patrolled instead of the local and campus police who knew the relaxed dress code of P-FIT, we were all wearing simple T-shirts, shorts, and Crocs on our feet.

I was glad when we arrived. The sun was still shining, though low in the sky, and the deepening shadows made the retreat house look rather eerie. But, turning to Gwen and Linda, I smiled and said, “This place is fabulous inside and the private beach up front is one of the nicest at the Shore. At high tide between the wall and the jetty you have nothing to fear as to intruders walking on the public littoral portion of the beach. At low tide when children and parents might walk through the property on their way to collect shells or find an ice cream vendor, the sisterhood tries to keep its outside activity limited to the four walled-in sundecks. One deck opens at beach level with gates out to the sand and water. The next is slightly elevated and is where the grills and tables are located for outdoor dining. The third is off of the second floor bedrooms; each bedroom has a sliding door exiting to the deck. The last is the private rooftop deck that guests may only enter by invitation of the Priestess. The place is rather lovely.” I spouted out happily.

Gwen replied speaking to Linda, “Husband and I have been here many times, Husband was committed here, we were life bonded here and we had our PASSION here.”

“Your PASSION?” Linda asked.

“What mundane people call a Honeymoon, Linda,” I told her.

“OH!”

“So it is rather special to me and Gwen and we hope it will be as special for you after this weekend.”

I pulled into a parking slot and parking the Nitro, and the three of us pulled off the shorts and T-shirts we had worn for the trip, tossed them in a heap in the rear hatch, and grabbed our small overnight packs. I pulled out two boogie boards, three sand chairs, and a beach umbrella and we each loaded up. One trip from car to house and we were unpacked.

A nude acolyte met us at the door. She showed us where to put our beach gear. Then after dropping our back packs in a corner until our rooms were readied, the acolyte performed the ritual greeting of the house. She knelt before each of us in turn, kissed Gwen and Linda full on the vagina and me lightly on the tip of my penis and repeated, “Blessed Day, Blessed Be” to each of us.

Gwen and I in turn knelt and kissed her vagina and repeated the greeting. Linda caught on quickly and followed suit.

The acolyte then led us into a large sitting room with well-worn wooden chairs and benches scattered about in it and a large pile of clean towels. Everyone in the house was to take a towel and sit upon it while using the inside furniture.

We sat and chatted as the various Apprentices and Novices came through the room on their normal daily routines. Wanda and Marisol both spent a good deal of time speaking with Linda. I knew that in an hour or so, once all the others had arrived and settled into the house for the weekend, and darkness had fallen, that Linda would be taken to the upper deck on the roof to meet the Priestess Mother of the circle and to be led through her acts of commitment. The Priestess, after consulting with her sisters in the circle, decided that Phil could attend if he presented himself for ‘purification’ upon his arrival, so once Linda had been sealed within the circle Phil would join her for his ceremony.

I hoped that Camille would arrive in time for the rites. Linda’s Aunt, who had raised her since the death of her parents, deserved to be seated in the place of honor when the coed was gathered into the sacred circle. My hope was answered about twenty minutes later, when griping about Shore traffic on a holiday weekend, Camille flounced into the room, stripped as bare as everyone else and smiling broadly.

After having the ritual greeting performed on her and greeting each of the sisters in the circle first and then me, (was it my imagination or did she linger just a bit too long with her kiss), she announced that she and her girls had worked up gifts for the house.

The Priestess Mother walked into the room, and was greeted by us all and in turn blessed us. She then turned to Camille and asked, “Were you able to meet our request, sister Camille?”

“Yes Mother, I was able to find exactly the materials you requested and have the items with me.”

“Very good child, after we draw the young ones into the circle you may show our guests what we requested and what you have done.” With that she motioned for Linda, Phil and the members of the circle to retire to the roof deck for the ceremony under the full moon.

The ceremony itself was simple yet elegant. Linda was asked three questions, while kneeling in front of the Priestess Mother. The first question was, ”Do you wish to dedicate your life to the betterment of self, this sacred sisterhood and the world?” Linda responded yes, and then kissed the Priestess mother on the vagina as a sign she recognized that life and all good things flowed from the Goddess’ vagina. The second question was, “Do you wish to step inside this sacred circle and swear to be reverently obedient to its doctrine?” Linda answered yes, and again sealed her answer with a kiss. The last question was, “Will you hold true to the teachings of the Goddess in all things in your life?” When Linda answered yes to that question, the circle of women enclosed her, with the women facing inward and symbolically drawing her into the womb that is the sacred circle.

Linda kissed the vagina of every sister in the circle and then stood and under the full moon was presented to the Goddess as a member of the circle and of the family.

Phil then had his commitment ceremony, which varied only slightly in form. The questions of the Priestess mother were the same and his responses along with the kisses were the same; however when the circle of the sisterhood formed he was on the outside of it and went around the circle, on his knees, to kiss the vagina of all of the women, including, now, Linda.

His presentation to the Goddess was as her spouse, the Horned One’s, representative in life as demonstrated by the horn he now wore. Phil had spouted quite an erection during the ceremony and as I might attest this was not unusual.

Wanda and Marisol, as novices present, were given the blessed duty of ‘dehorning the beast’. The seed spilled by Phil was gathered in a linen cloth, and then by the light of day would be buried some where on the grounds of the retreat.

The ceremony complete, we all adjourned to the large dining room for refreshments and to see what Camille had brought for the sisters in the retreat house.

“Mother called me at the shop,” Camilla addressed us, “and told me that our guests would be mixed and varied this weekend and not everyone might want to have to remain off of the sand during the low tide public access period. Mother has spoken to the town council and to the Chief Of Police. You all remember Sandra Bookman, who is a circle member?” Not waiting for a response Camille continued, “Sandra indicated that state law required that nipple, areola and pubic areas on women and pubic areas on men must be covered when the beach was not private. However; she did say that as there were Canadian and European vacationers using the beaches in the other parts of the town who were being allowed to be topless, she could also overlook this on our stretch of the beach.

“For those visitors who might be leery of exposing their breasts to children and ogling men...” A laugh went up from nearly everyone in the room, the fact is in the life of the circle ogling was the ogler’s problem the lust in the brain was not owned by the nude man or woman performing his or her sky-clad duties or acts of reverence to the Goddess. “Okay, that is enough, for those there is this.”

Camille held out about a yard and a half of the finest silk in a lilac that faded to a rich purple tie die. Camille then demonstrated on Marisol how the scarf went behind the neck, was crossed between the breasts and the ends drawn over the breast so that the nipple was covered, and then the two ends were knot ties in the center of the back. The fabric met the letter of the law. The woman was covered. The deep purple ties on the back gave the illusion that from the front the same deep purple would be there, however and right where the fabric criss crossed the breasts was where the fabric was the lightest tint possible.

“For the rest of us, and this includes the males present, we designed this,” and she showed a piece of fabric that was wider than a shoe lace yet not as wide as a belt that could tie comfortably about ones hips or waist. She tied it about Marisol’s waist. Camille then said,” A piece of material is to be drawn up between the legs and then pushed under the waist tie and allowed to drape in the front and the rear.” She again demonstrated this on Marisol.” It was the same filmy material and the same lilac color as the faded portion of the top scarf.

“For this weekend and whenever I as Priestess Mother decree, this shall be considered the same as sky-clad for our outdoor activities.” Priestess Mother stated. A chorus of, “Blessed Be,” signaled everyone’s acceptance of this.

Gwen asked Wanda if Sandra Bookman would be in attendance this weekend. Wanda replied vaguely, saying she came by the house to participate in the circle when her schedule allowed, which hadn’t been much lately, as preparing for the summer onslaught of day and weekly vacationers took most of her time.

We retired to bed shortly after this, as there was much we wanted to accomplish before we had to pick up, say our good-byes and leave Monday afternoon.

Ethan Dunphy and Joyce Heath arrived with a busload of students from P-FIT the next morning. As they filtered inside the retreat house the students, all female, were greeted in the traditional manner. Marge, the older woman from Linda’s psych course, was delighted at the greeting. She hadn’t even waited for the bus to pull to a stop before she had divested herself of her clothing and was ready for a sky-clad weekend. To be kissed so intimately by the sisterhood was one thing, when Linda the newest in the sacred circle kissed her and then told her the sisters expected to be kissed in return Marge shivered in ecstasy.

“I have always wanted to kiss a woman on the vagina, Linda, and have never been bold enough to do it before I met you and now the these women of the Temple of The Sky-Clad Goddess.” Marge whispered to her, ”Are you sure and old bag like me…”

“Look around you, Marge,” Linda said softly, “all ages all sizes and several races, all joined to celebrate life and the Goddess, go ahead and taste of the sacred vessel.”

Marge did, and the twice-divorced mother of three children, two grown and one teen still at home, rediscovered herself. She now knew what she wanted for her life. She wanted this sisterhood bond of loving that was demonstrated within the sacred circle.

By the end of the weekend Marge and two younger coeds would be initiated into the sacred circle. The other women present would just enjoy the freedoms of the retreat house and the clothing optional beach and return to P-FIT with some interesting stories.

Marge made arrangements to spend the week of July 4th at the retreat house with her sixteen-year-old daughter, the one still living at home. Her daughter was becoming rebellious and lacked purpose in her life. Marge hoped the sacred circle would bring a purpose and a focus for both of them.

I donned one of Camille’s creations and headed for the water with one of our boogie boards. After catching several long rolling waves, the type you get when the tide is turning low at the Shore, and finding myself so chilled I was in danger of losing my manhood to permanent shrinkage, I reluctantly came to the shore to warm in the sun and perhaps get a bite to eat.

A clutch of giggling girls were standing by the shoreline, one said, “Hey mister, whatcha wearin’?” asked a svelte redhead in a micro bikini in green that might have been as skimpy as the loincloth on my body.

I looked down to see the silky material had turned translucent in the water, even with a flap which clung to me when wet everything showed through.

“What is required of me to wear while I stay at the retreat house just up that dune rise, girls,” I answered figuring honesty was the best road to travel.

“Really, could we go see it?” The second in the clutch said, she was a plump brunette wearing a modest two-piece suit.

“Female guests are always welcome in the retreat house,” I smiled as I added, “but there is a dress code.”

“Should we come back when we have something else on?” This question came from a nicely packaged ash blond in a white monokinis suit.

“Let me guess,” I ventured, “Prom weekend and you just slipped away from the boys who paid a bundle to take you to an overpriced dance you didn’t enjoy while wearing an overpriced dress you didn’t like and now those jerks are trying to get into your pants. So you figure we’ll hang out in the retreat house until it is time to go home?” I said.

“Mister, you don’t know how spot on that was,” the plump girl in the two-piece, said. “Except we sent them packing early this morning after they tried to force her", she pointed to the girl in the white monokini, "to have sex with her prom date.”

“Well, if you want to visit with the sisterhood, you are not underdressed, you are overdressed.” I said bluntly.

One of the girls blushed, one sputtered, “No way”, one said, ‘Yes, way, I’m going” and the other two simply nodded. I presumed that meant they were curious enough to give it a try.

“When you walk up to the gate, you will be met by a nude tattooed woman who is a novice training to be a priestess in the faith, girls. She will ask you to respect the holiness of the house by not bringing worldly garments into it. If you are going to back out, the deck inside the wall is where you make your final decision.” I said. “If you are coming with me, come on now.”

Surprisingly all five of them followed on my heels, a couple of them remarking about my butt, one saying ‘stop it he’s old enough to be your father’ and the one who made the butt comment saying ‘if my father looked like him I’d jump his bones.’

It wasn’t Wanda or Marisol that met me at the door in the wall, it was Gwen. “Oh, I see you attracted some attention down there,” she giggled, “girls I know you followed him home, but he can’t keep you and he is taken.” She boldly stepped outside the gate nude, and then stated, “However, you are welcome to come in and look around, just leave those,” indicating the girls swimsuits, “out here.”

The girl in the white monokini had already untied its halter-top and was sliding the suit down and off of her body. The red head in the green bikini wasn’t too far behind her friend. Surprisingly ahead of them all and scampering in the gate was the plump brunette who had worn the modest two-piece suit. Her full nude figure passed by Gwen, dropping the suit in Gwen’s hands as she went by. The other two girls adapted an “oh what the hell” attitude and joined their friends inside, all of them entrusting Gwen with their only clothing.

All Gwen said to me was, “leave it to you to bring home a batch of jail bait”, and she strode inside provocatively rolling her butt. If she feared my eye wandering from that, she was very mistaken. As I removed the loincloth it was obvious I’d gotten over the cold water.

As the balance of the day was a seminar concerning the Temple Of The Sky-clad Goddess and goddess worship in general, and also a class on the psychology of nudity, one taught by the Priestess Mother and the other by Joyce Heath, Gwen and I decided to retire to our room and “dehorn the beast”.

A long talk in private with the Priestess Mother led the five high school seniors to request permission to join the guests at the retreat house for the balance of the weekend. Four had turned eighteen within the past two months and one would celebrate her birthday on Sunday this weekend. All were excited to learn about the empowerment that the Goddess religion and sacred circle gave to women.

Camille returned the red head to the motel the girls had booked into, and helped load out the room the five had shared into her van. The town the girls had come from was not far from the city in which Camille had her shop and she agreed to bring the girls home late Monday evening. The boyfriends could drive home without them.

That evening during dinner, when the Priestess Mother asked if anyone had a life moment to share, Gwen stood and glowingly reported, “I come to the circle with a full cup.”

The Priestess Mother smiled broadly at me and then looking to Gwen said, ”We of the sacred circle honor thee and give praise to the continuity of life that the Goddess and Horned One provide.” A loud chorus of ‘Blessed Be” followed from almost everyone at the table.

Priestess Mother then stated, “You child, are due in February?” Gwen nodded yes. The Priestess Mother continued,“ Then let the presentation of your child to the Goddess be my last act as Priestess Mother. I shall be Circle Crone as of the Ides of March. A selection of the next Priestess Mother shall be held during the Autumnal Equinox. Installation shall be during the Vernal Equinox next year.”

Ethan Dunphy held a sketching class on Sunday for those who wanted to learn to do sea and beach scape drawing. Joyce Heath again spoke to the young women, not part of the circle, about the psychology and power of nudity.

The rest of us enjoyed the beach and water and food. All too soon it was time to pack up and return to home and school. The five high school girls had decided to take summer jobs on the local boardwalk and in some town shops owned by members of the sacred circle. They would be living in the retreat house and studying the ways of the circle with the goal of deciding whether they wished to commit themselves by summer’s end. As one said, “If nothing else I’ll have some money for college and a great all over tan at the end of the summer.”

Four of the younger P-FIT coeds also decided to return to the retreat house for part of the summer.

We all reluctantly pulled on T-shirts and shorts and Linda, Gwen and I packed the Nitro back up and headed home.

As she sat next to me in the front seat, Gwen repeated ritually, “You are my husband, I willing submit myself to you,” releasing herself from the circle.

I responded, “You are my wife, I accept your submission and will neither harm you nor fail your trust in me.”

Linda sat in the rear and smiled. I looked in the rear view mirror and thought to myself; she finally understands what this is about.

End of Part 2

The End

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