Femdom Fitness

Femdom Fitness by tanya sissipus sissipus@attcanada.net

Part 1

I had just tossed my headset down and was starting to pack things up when Dave came up behind me.

"Hey, Brian - when are you finished?"

Since I already knew what was coming next, I deliberately continued shutting down my programs, killing them one by one with a simple click of the mouse. "About five minutes ago," I told him.

He shuffled his feet and stared down at me with that nervous, doomed look he did so well. In the six months I'd been with the company, I don't think I'd ever seen him relaxed. "Would you mind staying a couple hours?" He actually cringed as he said it, which suggested he was learning. "Even an hour would be great."

"Nope. Sorry, but I've gotta go." With all the important programs closed, I did a control-alt-delete and logged off the office network. "Normally I'd love the overtime," I lied, "but I've got plans for tonight."

One thing I had to say for Dave - he was persistent. "Not even an hour?"

"Can't do it, Dave." I rolled my chair away from the desk, forcing him to side step out of the way. "I've got too many things to get done tonight."

"Come on, just an hour." He watched as I zipped up my black bomber jacket and grabbed my knapsack, but still refused to give up. "It'd be a huge help."

The first few times he'd badgered me like this, I'd actually felt guilty and had given in. The next few times I'd told him the truth - that I simply didn 't want to stay - and he had continued begging all the way the elevators. Now, after enduring the same routine a hundred times, I'd learned that a quick and simple lie was the only way out.

"Sorry, but I've got plans." Not giving him a chance to ask again, I began weaving my way through the office and slipped out through the nearest doorway.

<>

Ten minutes later I was stepping out of the change-room at the gym, having exchanged my business attire for the comfort of a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Located less than a block away from the office, the gym was the perfect place to stop after sitting behind a desk all day. Not only did it give me a chance to work out my frustrations, but it was also helping me to develop the kind of body I felt I should have been born with.

A closet transsexual for most of my life, I'd only recently starting getting serious about making the changes I needed to be happy. Of course, I knew it was going to take years of hormones and a lot of surgery to make that happen, but working out certainly helped. While it might not give me the breasts and vagina that my soul demanded, it WAS helping to trim my waist and thighs into a more feminine shape.

And, if nothing else, it made me feel a little better about myself.

To my surprise, the gym was pretty busy for a Wednesday night. Fortunately, there were still two Lifecycles available, so I hurried over to grab one before somebody else beat me to it. As I climbed onto the seat i made my usual selection - a thirty-minute random hill profile - but upped the difficulty level from 8 to 9. It looked like I might have some trouble finding another free machine later, so I figured I might as well burn a few extra calories now.

Still, as I settled into the rhythm of the bike, I realised there were some advantages to working out in a busy gym - and three of them were right before me.

On the cross-trainer to my left was a beautiful brunette that I'd seen a few times before. Tall and slim, with the body of a pin-up model, she was the kind of girl who was strictly there to show off. Dressed rather provocatively in a pair of tight white shorts and a black cut-off shirt, she was always careful not to exercise too strenuously -- otherwise her little shirt might slide up and reveal those delicious little B-cup breasts. Also, whereas most girls tied their hair back to keep it from getting damp and matted, she wore hers long and loose, making her chestnut tresses fan out behind her as if she were on a photo-shoot.

I was sure she'd look absolutely stunning with a little makeup, but that was pretty much where my interest stopped. My one attempt at casual conversation had been met with a sneer, and the last time I'd seen her she had stormed out in a huff after finding all the cross-trainers taken. Not exactly Miss Personality.

By comparison, the woman on the stair-master next to her was an absolute angel. A petite, athletic beauty with nice little breasts and a tight ass, she was there every Monday and Wednesday night. Tonight she was wearing a black sports bra, matching spandex shorts, and a black leather baseball cap with her single braid of black hair dangling out the back. She had one of the tightest, toned, tanned bodies I had ever seen, and she certainly worked for it. Honestly, it was sometimes tiring just watching her, but she was never too busy or breathless to spare a friendly hello.

We'd actually chatted a few times, but she was clearly out of my league. Of course, the fact that her boyfriend could probably bench-press me with one arm certainly didn't help! Still, she was somebody I could look up, and she was definitely an inspiration.

Finally, jogging on the treadmill directly ahead of me was a woman I'd never seen before, but sincerely hoped would become a regular. She was a six-foot tall Amazon, dressed in a grey sports bra and matching sweatpants. A short coppery perm covered the top of her head, but it gave way to a curly ponytail that stretched all the way down to her incredible ass. At first, all I'd been able to see were her incredibly well-muscled arms and legs, which had me expecting some over-developed bodybuilder. When she turned to adjust the volume on her CD-player, though, I completely forgot myself and gasped in surprise.

My gawd - she was an Amazonian Goddess with a classic hourglass figure! Not only could this woman crush me without a thought, but her magnificent 40DD breasts could just as thoughtlessly smother me. Her stomach was definitely of the washboard variety - as I'd expected -- but her waist was almost waspish for her size. I was literally in awe, and the quick wink of her emerald green eyes told me she had noticed.

I don't know what it was about her, but I found myself powerless to look away. It was as if that single backwards glance had cast some sort of spell over me. Physically, she was well out of my league, and she looked to be at least ten years older as well. While I might stare and admire a woman like that from time to time, I was never silly enough to think something might happen between us.

So why was she so different?

Certain I'd been mistaken about the way she'd winked at me - I told myself it had probably just been sweat dripping into her eyes - I shook it off and tried to concentrate on my book. Unfortunately, while I was used to stealing quick, admiring glances between chapters, even the magic of Clive Barker couldn't hold my attention tonight. Instead, my mind kept wandering towards the Amazonian Goddess before me, with my eyes inevitably following.

I admit, part of my attraction was based on pure fantasy. One look at this incredible woman and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of things she'd make me do. Physically, I knew I'd be powerless to resist her whims, and that was an incredibly arousing thought. A much larger part of my attraction, though, was based on a deep respect for what she represented -- beauty . . . strength . . . power . . . presence. Much like the Amazon warriors of legend, she struck me as the kind of woman who could demand anything, but who would prefer to earn it.

When my machine started beeping to signal the end of my routine, I was sure I had done something wrong. There was no way thirty minutes could have elapsed already, but that's precisely what had happened. Instead of gritting my teeth through the last ten minutes, as I usually did, I'd breezed right through without noticing it. Not only that, but I'd burned an extra eighty calories too!

My legs were a little unsteady as I climbed off the bike, but I wasn't sure if it exhaustion or nerves. I had to walk right up beside my coppery-haired Goddess to grab a rag for wiping down my machine, and I was sure she'd say something about my staring. Of course, part of me was hoping she'd say something, but that just made things more confusing.

"Hello."

As I turned to return her greeting, I thanked my lucky stars for the fact that I was sweating. Otherwise, she would surely have noticed the instant blush that washed over my face. "Hi."

"So," she asked, "do you usually go so long on the bike?"

"Um, yeah." I could literally feel the heat in my cheeks now, and it had nothing to do with physical exhaustion. "I do a lot of riding in the summer, so I like to keep in practice."

"I figured as much - you've got great legs." She jabbed at the stop button on the treadmill and coasted to an easy halt. "Mind handing me a towel?"

"No problem." Regretting the fact that I'd never been very good at small-talk, I asked her, "Do you usually work out here? I don't think I've ever seen you in here before."

She shrugged, giving me a close-up glance at just how firm her breasts were. "I used to work out across town, but I got sick of all the college guys hitting on me. "

"Oh." Gawd, I wanted to kick myself! I'd let my fantasies delude me into thinking there was more to her 'hello' than just a friendly greeting, and now she was giving me the polite brush-off I deserved. "Well, hopefully you' ll find things here a little more to your liking."

With that, I bit my tongue and headed back to the bike. I was too embarrassed to risk meeting her eyes again, so I took my time wiping it down and hoped she'd finish first.

"You know, you really should think about working on your upper body more." Suddenly she was leaning against the bike next to mine. "You've got such great legs, it seems a shame to stop there."

Grinning like an absolute idiot, I shrugged. "I'm not really interesting in looking like some huge, muscle-bound freak." Realising too late what I'd just said, I cringed. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," I stammered, "but some people carry it off better than others. I mean, on you it looks absolutely gorgeous, but I think I'm more suited to thin and athletic." I shook my head and laughed. "Please, feel free to hit me at any time."

"Maybe later." To my relief, she chuckled softly. "In the meantime, let me show you one thing. I promise, it'll just take a minute, and if you aren't interested I won't bother you about it again." She grabbed my book and stepped way from the bike with one fluid, graceful motion. "Come on, it'll be good for you."

Unable to believe my luck, I tossed the towel back into the bin and followed her into the weight room. I'd ventured in there a few times before, but I had no idea what most of the machines were for, much less how to use them. So, even if she was just offering some friendly advice, it certainly couldn' t hurt to listen.

Having led me into the farthest corner of the room, she pointed to a padded black bench. "Lie down here," she said, "with your knees beneath the weights and your head nearest the wall."

Following her directions, I squirmed into position until my legs were dangling over the bottom edge. "Like this?" Suddenly, before I knew what was happening, she swung one leg over the bench and straddled my chest. For a moment, I was afraid she was going to hit me after all, but the smirk on her face suggested differently.

"I know what you want." Before I could so much as open my mouth to ask what she meant, my Amazonian captor lifted her legs and planted one foot on either side of my head. Directing my gaze with a few subtle nudges of her off-white sneakers, she cupped her DD breasts and grinned. "Oh yes, I know exactly what you want. You . . . want . . . these."

"What?" I strained to shake my head, but couldn't even manage to overpower her tiny feet. "Look, I'm sorry for staring at you earlier. I know it was rude, and there's no excuse for what I did, but I meant no offence. It's just you're so beautiful that . . . well, I honestly couldn't help myself." I cringed as her feet squeezed a little tighter. "Okay! I'm sorry. Next time I promise to show a little more restraint."

"Don't play innocent with me," she chastised. "It's refreshing to hear a boy who understands the value of respect, but you know that's not what I meant." Shifting backwards a couple of inches, she reached down and pinched my nipples until I yelped in pain. "You wished these looked like mine, don't you?"

"I . . . I don't know what you're -"

"Do NOT lie to me." A scowl on her face, she lifted her feet and spun around until I was staring at her back. "Now, I'm already sure that you're wearing panties, I'm just curious as to what colour." A second later I heard her unzipping my shorts, followed by the sound of her delighted laughter. "Vivid purple satin, French cut, with lace waist band -- very nice." Without zipping me back up, she spun the rest of the way around and stared me in the eye. "Now, do I have to take off your dirty little shoes, or are you going to tell me what colour nailpolish you're wearing?"

"Blue." I blurted it out without thinking.

"Blue?" She glanced back over her shoulder, then captured my gaze again. "Just blue?"

"Um . . ." I swallowed loudly as I wracked my brains for the proper name. "Cosmic Blue." Not sure how much she wanted to know, I added, "From . . . ah, Cover Girl.

"Good." She seemed to think about it for a minute, then added, "Yes, that will do just fine." Just like that she climbed back off of me, zipped up my shorts, and tossed my book down on my chest. "Starting tomorrow we are going to begin shaping you into the sissy girl we both know you need to be. I will meet you here at 5:30. Is that understood?"

Too amazed to speak, I nodded instead.

"Good. DON'T be late."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me in a state of total shock. In the space of five minutes she'd revealed my most personal secrets, decided for herself what should be done about them, and effortlessly compelled me to agree. Completely stunned by the bizarre turn of events, I watched until she disappeared around the corner, then collapsed back onto the bench and just shook my head.

Part 2

"Hey, Brian . . . that call go okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Distracted by the clock on my PC - which seemed to be taunting me with its 5:32 PM display - I scrambled to zip up my gymbag with one hand while signing my time sheet with the other. "Whatever you're going to ask," I told him, "forget it."

"Come on, man." He sounded desperate, but I was too preoccupied to care. "We 've got like 40 calls in the queue, and word just came down that-"

"Look, I'm late as it is. Not tonight." Content to leave it at that, I jumped out of my chair, nearly knocking him into the wall with my gymbag. Too frantic to even apologise, I yanked my coat out of the closet as I passed, then raced for the stairs.

Sure, it was six flights down, but catching the elevator could be a bitch when quitting time came around.

<>

By the time I flew into the gym it was nearly twenty-to-six, but there was nothing I could do. While my last call had finished up well before 5:30, it had been one of those annoying issues that required a lot of paperwork after the fact. I'd raced through it as quickly as I dared, but bureaucracy was something that not even my Amazonian Mistress could defeat.

She was nowhere in sight when I got there, but that didn't exactly fill me with confidence. I mean, what if she'd already come and gone, having given up on me? What if I'd missed my one and only chance to fulfil both my dreams of femininity and submission? Or, worse yet, what if she was waiting inside, already pumped and sweaty and ready to punish me?

Too nervous to do anything myself until I knew for sure, I tossed my jacket and gymbag in my locker, then set out in search of her. I started with a quick peek into the women's aerobics room - a peek I was too anxious to properly enjoy -- followed by a tour of the weight-room. After more than a few strange looks from the bodybuilders there, I finished up in the cardio-room where we'd first met. Unfortunately, things looked pretty quiet tonight, which meant there was no chance I'd simply overlooked her in the crowd.

She simply wasn't there.

By now it was almost 6:00 and I was frantic with worry. Could she have been toying with me all along? Had my own craving for femininity made me so vulnerable that I was unable to recognise her game? My gawd, what if this had all been a set-up, a cruel joke to teach me a lesson for staring at her? She had seemed okay with it last night, but . . .

"So, have you been waiting long?"

Startled, I spun around to see my coppery-haired Goddess standing before me. She was wearing a tight faux-fur coat that beautifully accentuated her curves, along with high-heeled black leather boots that were still dripping with snow. Even in her basic winter garb, she was a marvellous vision to behold. "N-N-No," I stammered. "I mean, a little while, but I don't mind."

She grinned, as if I'd just said something so obvious that it wasn't worth commenting upon. Slowly, sensually, she removed her black leather gloves one finger at a time. "Tell me -- were you on time?"

Strangely, it never occurred to me to lie. It had only been a matter of minutes, but it was the principle of the thing. I didn't even know her name, yet I'd made a commitment to this woman -- emotionally and spiritually -- and it had already taken hold of me. "I . . . I was about ten minutes late," I admitted. "Please forgive me, but I was unable to get out of work any earlier."

She just nodded, as if she'd know all along - and, for all I knew, she probably did. As I watched, curious and nervous and excited all at once, she knelt down to unzip her own gymbag. From it she pulled a pink shopping bag, emblazoned with the name of a local woman's fashion boutique, and tossed it to me. "Get dressed, then start yourself on the bike. I'll meet you whenever I feel like it. Understood?"

I nodded.

Before I could take more than a few nervous steps, she asked, "By the way, what colour T-shirt did you bring today?"

Distracted by thoughts of what might be in the pink shopping bag, I actually had to think about what I'd packed that morning. Finally, I answered, "Grey. Light grey, I think."

"Hmm . . . yes, that will do nicely." With that, she waved me onwards, then turned for the women's changeroom.

I watched her for a long moment, admiring the graceful beauty of her Amazonian physique as she sauntered down the hall. Her body seemed to dance beneath her coat, swaying slightly with each powerful, sexy step. She hadn't yet tied her hair back in the familiar ponytail, so I was lucky enough to admire the soft bounce of her coppery locks. Gawd, she was even more stunning than I remembered, and I had the sense that she hadn't yet showed me her best.

I dared not stare for long, though. Instead, I quietly slipped into the men' s changeroom and sat myself down in the corner, away from prying eyes. Shielding my mysterious gift with my body, I peeked inside to find a pair of black spandex shorts, a hot pink sports-bra with black trim, and a matching pink and black hair-band. My first thought was one of gratitude and excitement, but I had only a brief moment to enjoy it before fear set in.

Long hair, painted toenails, a well-shaved body, and cute little A-cup breasts made changing and showering amidst strange men difficult enough. I constantly had to watch where I stepped, how I moved, and what direction I faced to protect my secret. None of the guys had made a fuss so far, but that didn't mean my peculiarities had gone unnoticed. All of that would surely change, though, if I were caught slipping into the treasures before me.

Nevertheless, it was clearly what my beautiful trainer desired, so I took a deep breath and slowly began untying my shoes . . .

<>

"Three more . . . two more . . . one more . . . yes."

Although I could barely see through my sweat-streaked glasses, I could hear the satisfaction in her voice. We'd been working out together for almost two hours - twice as long as I was used to - and I felt like I was going to die. My legs were throbbing, my arms were on fire, and it felt like somebody had punched me in the gut. All I wanted to do at that moment was crawl into and corner and sleep for a week.

After, of course, thanking my Amazonian Mistress for pushing me harder than I could ever have managed alone.

"Here." Kneeling down on the plain, concrete floor beside the rowing machine, she brought a water bottle to my lips and encouraged me to, "Drink up, but slowly. Little sips." After I'd swallowed enough to take the edge off of my exhaustion, she handed me the bottle and smiled. "Keep this up and you'll have the body you desire in no time."

Still tasting the strange, almost medicinal sports-drink, I nodded. "Thank . . . thank you. That was probably the most intense experience of my life, but I'm glad you pushed me through it." I started to get up, but thought better of it when my legs began to wobble. Sitting back down, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall, shocked by how pale I looked. "How," I began, pausing for another much-needed drink, "am I to thank you for all this?"

"Oh, you'll have plenty of opportunities to show your gratitude - don't you worry about that." Sweating fairly heavily herself, she wiped herself down with my towel, then tossed it playfully in my face. "Assuming, that is, you last the week."

Having caught the towel with my free hand, I held it to my face for an extra couple of seconds as I inhaled her intoxicating musk. Part of me felt guilty for taking such bizarre pleasure, but I couldn't help myself. "I may have to crawl out of here by Friday," I grinned, "but I will not fail you."

My mouth wanted to keep going, but I had no idea what to say. I mean, it felt so awkward not knowing how to address her. I wanted to add 'Mistress' or 'Goddess' at the end of every sentence to show my respect. Things right now sounded too casual, and . . . well, I felt she deserved more from me. Unfortunately, I couldn't summon the courage to ask her name, and I didn't want to risk embarrassing her with such verbal submission.

"Well, I think that's enough for today." She allowed me one last swallow, then retrieved the water bottle. "Make sure you get lots of rest tonight, because you'll find tomorrow even harder to get through."

Nodding, I eased myself off of the rowing machine and nearly staggered across the room, my eyes glued to her perfect, spandex covered ass. I knew I was staring again, but at this point I honestly couldn't help it. Suddenly, she stopped, and it was all I could do to keep from walking right into her.

"It just occurred to me that I don't know your name." She stared down at my sweat-drenched body for a few seconds, then smiled. I knew she was smiling at my bra, which had seemed fairly inconspicuous until I'd begun to sweat, but it wasn't the mocking smile I had expected. "You'll be tanya from now on. That's tanya, with a lowercase 't.' Understand?"

Unsure of what to say, I nodded.

"Good. And as long as we're in public, you may call me Diana." She smiled again at the glimmer of hope in my eyes. "If you last the week . . . well, let's just see if you can last the week."

"Thank you, Diana." As I said it, a great weight seemed to lift from my weary shoulders. All my worries, fears, and uncertainties about her were gone. Somehow, the exchange of names seemed to consummate our relationship, proving it wasn't just a bizarre game. "I won't let you down. I promise."

<>

To my surprise, our Friday session went much easier than I'd expected. Of course, I still felt like I was going to die, but I felt like I had enough strength left to perish at home, rather than in the nearest corner. Not only that, but I could already feel my body changing, adapting to my Amazonian training regime. My breathing wasn't quite as laboured, my legs felt a little lighter, and - maybe it was my imagination - but my bra did feel a little tighter.

Unfortunately, Diana didn't seem to be fairing quite so well. It seemed as if she'd been taking it easy for most of the night, and that wasn't like her. One of the many things that I admired about her was they way she always trained right alongside me, often pushing herself harder than I could ever dream. Tonight, though, it was as if she'd hit a wall after about thirty-five, forty minutes.

What really had me concerned, though, was the way she seemed to be favouring her left leg. I hadn't wanted to mention it earlier - I hadn't even been sure - but I'd been watching her pretty carefully for the past hour. She was definitely resting all of her weight on her right side, and whenever she started to sweat she made a habit of rubbing her hands down her left leg. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but there was also a tightness around her eyes that made me think it was something more.

Swallowing loudly, I looked over and asked, "Diana?"

She smiled, as if nothing was wrong. "Let me guess - you want to go again, right?"

I chuckled softly, flattered that she found me worthy of some casual, joking banter. "Actually, I was worried about you. Please forgive me if I'm out of line, but I noticed you seem to be favouring your left leg." I didn't know if she allow me to touch her - it was an honour I didn't feel I'd yet earned - but I couldn't stand seeing her in pain. "Is . . . is there anything I can do?"

For a moment, she just sat there and stared. Had I done something wrong? Was I not supposed to mention her weakness? My gawd, I had just wanted to help, and here I'd gone and offended her. This was all so new to me, and I didn't feel like I was doing a very good job of proving myself worthy. However, before I could apologise, she saved me the trouble.

"You noticed that?" She brushed a stray, coppery tangle of hair from her eyes and smiled. "Just as I am beginning to think you might be worth my time after all, I find that I may have actually underestimated you." Suddenly, she swung around and laid her leg across my own. Demonstrating with her long, slender fingers, she told me to, "Rub the back of the calf, lightly, and in a circular motion."

Delighted to obey, I replaced her purple-painted nails with my own frosty-pink and began. Once again, my Amazonian Mistress had some surprises to offer. While I could feel the raw power of her muscles beneath my touch, her skin was softer and smoother than I'd ever felt in my life. For some reason, I hadn't expected to find the two extremes together - although, in hindsight, I don't know how I could have expected any less.

Unable to resist, I hunched over a bit to take a closer look. Not only were her legs completely hairless, but there wasn't even the faintest sign of stubble. While it was possible she had just shaved before hitting the gym, I felt it was too out of character for her. She came to the gym to work out, not to show off - although she had enough natural beauty to do both! I didn' t know whether it was waxing, sugaring, or electrolysis, but the effect was magnificent.

I only hoped she might someday share her secret with me.

"My . . . my . . . my." While I continued to rub, Diana reached out and plucked the sweat-streaked glasses from my face. "Why didn't you tell me you had such lovely green eyes? Shame on you for hiding them behind a pair of glasses." She leaned back against the cool, brick wall and nodded softly. "Yes . . . I think we're going to have to fit you with some contacts. Assuming, that is, you still wish to continue with our arrangement?"

"Yes! Of course!" My first instinct was to drop to my knees and beg her approval, but I still had a job to do. Having discovered the tightness behind her calf, I was methodically rubbing and squeezing it away as I talked. "I am yours," I promised, "for as long as you find me worthy of your attentions."

She laughed, but it was a pleasant laugh - not mocking or cruel at all. "But, my dear tanya -- you hardly know me."

"Yes, but you seem to know me better than I know myself." Shrugging softly, I looked into her emerald eyes and confessed, "I can't explain it, but I've admired you since I first laid eyes on you. And, in the past week, I've come to trust and respect you as well. It may not makes sense, but . . . well, I don't need anything more than that."

Once again, she just smiled as if I'd stated something so obvious that no response was required. "Well, I think it's about time for us to hit the showers." Carefully sliding her leg out of my grasp, Diana slowly put all her weight on it and smiled. "Hmmm . . . it'll be interesting to see what you can do with some proper instruction and practice."

If somebody had come by at that moment and told me I'd won the lottery, I couldn't have been happier.

Absently rubbing her leg, my Amazonian Mistress said, "I think I'll take my time in the shower and let the hot water finish what you started. Of course, you won't mind waiting, will you?"

"W-w-waiting?"

She nodded. "Yes. So you can drive me home."

Surprised as I was, all I could manage to do was croak, "Home?"

"Well, how else are you going to find out where I live?" There was a mischievous smile on her full, red lips.

"Where . . . where you live?"

Brushing a crimson curl from her eye, she winked my way. "That's assuming, of course, you still wish to show your appreciation for all that I've done."

Apparently, the look of utter astonishment on my face was enough, for she simply chuckled softly and sauntered off towards the showers. Taking a moment to pinch myself - this was real, all right - I hurried off to do the same.

Part 3

"-- have the kick-ass title track from AC/DC's latest, along with a little classic Metallica . . . from the 'S&M' album. Oh, baby! Get ready to scream along and wake up the neighbours, 'cause this is --"

On any other morning i would have taken a groggy slap at the alarm clock and buried my head back under the pillow. Eventually, I would have cracked my eyes open and groaned about how early it was, then cursed whatever it was that made waking up necessary. I had never been a morning person, and getting up at 5am on a weekend wasn't exactly my idea of a great way to start the day. However, the irony of waking up to a little 'S&M' cut through the fog of sleep and put a lazy smile on my face.

Besides, this morning I had every reason to WANT to get up and out of the house . . . and her name was Diana.

I rolled out of bed with a satisfied yawn and shuffled over to the closet to grab my things. Snapping a fresh blade into my razor, I grabbed my can of shaving gel, snatched up my hairbrush, tossed a clean T-shirt over my shoulder, and hurried off to the shower. Part of me wanted to take my time and enjoy it - as much as I hated shaving my face every morning, I embraced the weekly ritual of shaving my legs as something to be savoured. The rest of me, though, was eager to get out of the house and on my way to show Diana just how grateful I was for everything she'd done.

It was, of course, my devotion to my Amazonian Goddess that won out.

<>

Less than an hour later I parked my little white Pontiac in front of Diana's house and hurried around to the back door. When I reached the corner of the house, though, I stumbled to an awkward stop and just stared at the scene before me. I don't know what I had been expecting - her house looked like any other small, suburban home from the front - but it certainly wasn't this.

The entire backyard was contained in an immense greenhouse, the glass walls of which reached so high they seemed to be an extension of the house itself. Pressing my face to the glass, I could see a full-sized in-ground pool, complete with a low diving board at one end. There was even an inflatable couch floating in the centre and a beach ball stuck in the far corner. Around the pool itself was a narrow stone path - barely wide enough for one person - with an endless flower garden eating up the rest of the space. It was beautiful, idyllic, and possessed a serene kind of otherworldly innocence that I hadn't expected . . . but which immediately seemed appropriate.

After all, my Amazonian Goddess was a woman of magnificent complexity, so it should have come as no surprise that her home reflected that diversity as well.

"Something tells me I had better start honing my gardening skills," I mused silently. Smiling at the thought, I slipped inside the greenhouse and tiptoed my way around the nearest edge of the pool. As I reach down to open the backdoor I found a note waiting for me:

"tanya,

I have left my spare key at the bottom of the pool for safekeeping. Once you have retrieved it, you may let yourself in and use the towel behind the door to dry yourself off. You may then toss it down the laundry chute with your wet clothes and quietly make your way to the kitchen. I will leave further instructions there.

Your Goddess"

As I read that last line, I desperately tried to remember if I had ever used those words with her. Silently, I had always thought of Diana as my Amazonian Goddess, but had I actually said as much to her? I didn't think so -- in which case, it suggested that our meeting was more than just a coincidence. I'd never been one to believe in fate, but where she was involved I could believe just about anything.

Suddenly, it was as if the unseasonable warmth of her greenhouse were pressing down upon me, slowly suffocating me into obeying her instructions. A puddle of melted snow was quickly gathering around my feet, and my fingers were still stiff from the cold, but inside my jacket I was drenched with sweat. Before I could shrug out of my jacket, though, I took a second look at her note:

" . . . toss it down the laundry chute with your wet clothes . . ."

I wasn't sure if she meant to include my jacket and boots in that statement, but I didn't yet feel comfortable enough to interpret her wishes. Of course, I could always ask, but that would mean waking her prematurely - something I couldn't do. In the end, I decided it would be better to look silly than to risk offending her.

So, taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and dove into the pool.

<>

"Damn. I have no idea whether she prefers her toast plain, or with something on top. Maybe I should put a little jam or something on the side of the plate, just to be safe." Unsure as to Diana's tastes, I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed the jar of strawberry jam from her fridge. Leaving it next to the toaster, I turned back to the kitchen table and sat down to read through her instructions again:

"tanya,

While you may dispense with the swim in the future, I expect you to remember the details of this morning's ritual. At no time shall you enter my home wearing anything more than the collar you should be wearing now."

Self-consciously fingering the one-inch strip of pale blue velvet around my throat, I continued reading:

"Your first stop inside my home shall always be the kitchen, where you will find your outfit for the day. I expect you to pay special attention to what is laid out for you, as it shall indicate both my mood and my intentions for your visit. While I may mix and match your outfits from time to time, you can always count on the following basics.

Firstly, lace and satin lingerie - such as you had better be wearing now - means I wish to be pampered. Such a day shall always begin with breakfast in bed, so I suggest you learn my tastes quickly. As for the rest of the day, think soft . . . tender . . . sensual . . . and you will know what I expect.

Second, casual wear - which you shall work particularly hard to earn - means I expect to share the day with a girlfriend. Be prepared for anything from a little girl-talk, to an afternoon of shopping, to an evening of club hopping. I'm sure some of these ideas strike terror into your heart now, but you will come to crave such adventures.

Finally, fetish wear - leather, latex, PVC, nurse's & maid's uniforms, etc. - means I expect to be pleasured, and pleasured well. Be your most docile, submissive, obedient, feminine self and expect absolutely anything."

Just then, the toast popped, denying me the opportunity to really think about what I'd gotten myself into. Not that it would have made a difference - I meant it when I said I would do anything to show my gratitude - but I was feeling somewhat overwhelmed. It was a lot to absorb in one morning, and I was terrified of slipping up or making a mistake that might cost me my Amazonian Goddess' trust.

Quickly, I buttered her toast, pooled a little jam on the side of the plate, and poured her a fresh cup of coffee. I knew I was rushing things a bit - for instance, I would have preferred to neatly arrange the orange slices around her toast -- but I wanted to get everything to her while it was still warm. So, allowing myself a moment to nervously adjust my baby blue peignoir, I stepped into my matching heels and prepared to serve Diana her breakfast in bed.

<>

"Good morning, D-" catching myself a fraction of a second too late, I hastily amended, "Goddess." My hands were trembling as I approached the bed, but I managed to lay the tray down over her legs without spilling anything. Taking a careful step back I curtsied politely. "I . . . I hope everything is to your liking."

An enigmatic smile on her face, she propped a pillow behind her back and scooted back into a sitting position. Pulling the navy blue comforter down until it just barely covered her nipples - a momentary glimpse of large, dark aureole was all I was allowed - she took a sip of her coffee and said, "So far, so good." With that, she picked up one of the orange slices and slid it slowly, almost seductively, into her mouth, then licked her fingers clean. "Mmmmmmm."

I knew she was toying with me, putting on a show to see how I'd react, but I was too nervous to really appreciate it. Was I supposed to arrange the pillow for her? What if she preferred margarine to butter on her toast? Did she really like her coffee black, or was she ignoring the cream and sugar I' d brought up with me because it was my job to prepare her coffee properly? I had so many questions, so many doubts, but I didn't know how to ask.

As she slipped another orange slice between her lips, she shook her head softly. "tanya, that deer-in-the-headlights look you have going on is cute, but you'll have to get over it." Chuckling softly, she told me, "Respect . . . obedience . . . submission . . . perhaps a little nervous awe is okay, expected even. However, you're not going to be much use to me if you're constantly in fear of your life."

I lowered my head in shame and knelt next to the bed. "I am sorry, Goddess." Suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of her perfume, I sighed in contentment. "It's just that this is all so new to me, and I want everything to be perfect."

"Nothing is perfect, tanya."

"I know, but perfect is what you deserve." Anxiously rubbing the back of my hand, I told her, "You've done more for me than I have any right to desire, and you've never asked for anything in return. I mean, you graciously allowed me to come and show my gratitude today, but it wasn't something you demanded of me." Just then I paused, a curious revelation dawning upon me. It took a moment to understanding for sink in, but then I looked up at her and smiled shyly.

"That's the whole point, isn't it, Goddess? It's just like you said in your letter - sometimes you want a kinky fetish slave, but other times you just want some companionship. By giving me some freedom to please you, you've learned more about me in just a few days than years of barking orders and watching me obey could ever provide."

My Goddess enjoyed a long sip of coffee, then graced me with another warm smile. "Very good, tanya. Keep this up and I just may decide to keep you around." A pink blush spread across my cheeks as I looked down at the carpet again, but she just laughed. "Now, why don't you take care of my toes while I finish my breakfast? You'll find the nail file and polish on top of my dresser. Pick something bright, but soft, and take your time. I like my nails to look their best."

Relieved, I curtsied again before turning to obey.

<>

"tanya?"

Having just lit the final candle, I jumped to my feet and scurried to the bathroom door. As I turned out the lights, I assured her, "All is ready for you, Goddess."

"Very good."

Filled with a nervous excitement the likes of which I had never experienced before, I opened the door and waited for my Amazonian Goddess to join me. Once I'd painted both her toes and fingers she had sent me back downstairs to clean up the kitchen while she waited for her nails to dry. Upon my return she'd then had me put one of her aerobics tapes in the VCR and dismissed me to prepare her bath.

The tub itself was big enough to fit two people comfortably, so it had taken quite a while to fill - especially since I had to pause near the end and wait for the hot water to build up again. I'd had to add three times the amount of bubblebath I normally used at home, and even then you could barely detect the lavender scent. It turned out that wasn't as big a concern as I'd feared, though, for the two dozen candles situated around the tub were scented themselves. Once they were lit, the combined effect was both calming and arousing, although I'm sure the arousal was more of my own doing than anything else.

Now, nearly fifteen minutes later, she was ready for her bath and - fortunately - it was ready for her.

Dressed only in a black dressing gown, my Goddess stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Pausing before me, she said, "You may let my hair down first, tanya."

"Yes, Goddess." As I stepped forward, the sweet, pungent scent of her musk washed over me. Feeling guilty - but unable to stop myself - I took a deep breath and savoured her scent before starting on her hair. One by one I removed the clips from her hair, freeing those damp, silky tresses from their elegant prison. Feeling all that luxurious hair wash over my hands aroused me even more, but I forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.

When I finished, she stretched out her arms and waited for me to remove her gown. At first, I paused - I didn't feel worthy of gazing upon her naked form - but I just reminded myself that it was what she wanted. Physically trembling, I took the soft terrycloth material between my fingers and slowly peeled it away, stepping back as I did so to make it easier on my Goddess. The instant her naked beauty was revealed, I forced myself to turn away and hang her robe over the back of the door.

"tanya?"

"Yes, Goddess?"

I swear I could hear her smiling. "Turn around, tanya."

Nodding once, I took a deep breath and did as she commanded.

"Wow." Eyes wide, mouth gaping, and palms sweaty, I gasped in wonder. While I knew I hadn't yet seen her at her best, not even my own fantasies were adequate preparation for the vision before me. She was so intensely beautiful, had such a wondrous glow to her, that I was almost willing to believe she WAS a Goddess.

Her six-foot Amazonian frame was even more well developed than her gym clothes had hinted at, with nary a stretch mark, freckle, or visible vein to mar her perfect flesh. I had expected some physical sign of transformation, some evidence of her gruelling workout regime, but it was as if she'd been born into her beauty. Even her 40DD breasts looked perky and fresh, appearing to float upon her torso rather than droop and sway. On any other woman I'd have said that was a sign of implants, but I instinctively knew my Goddess needed no such medical enhancement.

"So," she said, snapping me out of my trance, "I take it you approve?"

I immediately dropped to my knees and bowed my head. "Please forgive me, Goddess. I know you gave me permission to look, but that's no excuse for the way I acted. It's just-"

"Hush." She reached down, took a handful of my thick, dark hair, and yanked my head back. "I want you to look . . . to admire . . . to worship my body with your eyes." An amused smile on her face, she promised, "The glaze in your eyes provides a more honest reflection than a mere mirror could ever offer. Do NOT deny me that."

Now that I understood my role a little better I was able to return her smile. "You may count on me for that, Goddess."

"Very good." Chuckling softly, she released me and made her way over to the tub. "Now, get undressed and join me in the tub. You may wash me as I relax."

"Yes, Goddess!"

For the next half-hour I soaked next to my Goddess, washing and caressing her magnificent body with an almost religious passion. I started with her perfect, dainty feet, massaging the lightly wrinkled soles while I paid special attention to the red, tender patch of skin beneath her left ankle. Next I made my way up her legs, luxuriating in the feel of her smooth, hairless, unblemished flesh. There was a nervous, awkward moment when I approached the top of her thighs, but she diverted my attention with one brief, powerful squeeze. She barely even flexed her muscles, but that scissors-action was enough to make me flinch in discomfort.

After that I took my time washing her stomach, reached around to do her back, let my hands climb up to her neck, and then ran them back down both her arms. While just being near her had me riding a constant wave of physical and emotional arousal, I was very careful to avoid anything that might be considered intimate.

Until, that is, she directed my attention to her wondrous breasts.

"Be very careful with my bouncing babies, tanya," she warned. I was sitting with her legs still scissored around my waist, so I was able to look her in the eyes as I accepted her commands. "I am trusting that you are capable of caring for them properly, so do not disappoint me." Coming from any other woman, a comment like that probably would have elicited a laugh on my part, but I sensed she was quite serious. I mean, there had to be a secret behind breasts that incredible, so I would do my duty to my Goddess and - perhaps - learn something to help myself as well.

Following her directions to the letter, I began by placing my soapy palms flat against her stomach, slowly sliding them up under her breasts. Turning only my wrists, I gently caressed my way up from the underside of her firm, beautiful mounds, gently massaging them with my fingers. Then, pausing just short of her huge, rosy aureole, I slid my hands up and over the top of her breasts and began the process all over again.

"Do you like them, tanya?"

I looked up into her bright green eyes and smiled. "Yes. Very much, Goddess."

Quietly, almost too softly for me to hear, she asked, "I bet you'd like a pair of your very own, wouldn't you?"

I felt a shudder of nervous delight shoot through my body at her words. She knew exactly what I wanted, and I was beginning to believe she really might be able to make me over in her image. Of course, I could never possess breasts like hers, but anything would be an improvement over what nature had mistakenly given me.

Slowly working my thumbs around her rock-hard nipples, I smiled in delight to hear her gentle moan. "I would give anything to attain even a fraction of your feminine beauty, Goddess. You have been my guide, my teacher, my role model, my-"

"Kiss them, tanya." Suddenly, she grabbed the back of my head and pulled it to her breast. I didn't even see her move - one second I was gazing into her eyes, and the next I had a face-full of warm, soapy cleavage. "Kiss them . . . lick them . . . suck them clean, tanya. Even the gentlest soap can dry your skin, and I don't trust a simple washcloth to get me clean." I could feel her soapy flesh sliding around beneath my face as she spoke, but I was still too stunned to react. "Wash me with your mouth, clean me with your tongue, and perhaps I'll let you show me just how grateful you are."

Fortunately, I didn't need to think to obey. While I was still marvelling at my luck, instinct took over and nudged me into action. Timidly at first, I stuck out my tongue to taste the soap on her breasts and was immediately relieved by the fact that she trusted only natural, herbal sources. While the taste was unmistakable soapy, there was none of the harsh, chemical taste I remembered from my childhood.

Before long I was licking and kissing and sucking her soapy flesh as if it were coated with the sweetest icing. With my Goddess' warmth surrounding me, the sound of her heartbeat before me, and her soft moans of pleasure above, I was in a state of hypnotic bliss.

She continued to hold me close long after she was clean, and I continued to perform my oral ministrations long after she released me. Actually, if it hadn't been for the fact that our water was starting to chill, we probably would have remained like that all day.

"tanya." My Goddess pinched my chin between two fingers and gently forced me to look up into her eyes. "You have performed well, but you're not done yet. There is still something you haven't taken care of."

While she continued to hold me with her eyes, she slipped her feet up onto my chest and pushed me away. For my part, all I could do was slide backwards in the tub until I felt the cold, hard faucet pressing against my spine. Even then, I couldn't look away from her eyes.

"Since we're almost done, and the water is getting cold, I've saved you the trouble of soaping up my pussy. While you performed your oral duties above, I took the liberty of soaping myself down below." Suddenly, she yanked my head down until I was staring at the white, foamy patch between her legs. "Now, a woman's labia aren't quite as sensitive as her breasts, but I do so hate the feel of a soapy pussy."

My breath coming hard and heavy, I twisted my legs beneath me until I was kneeling between her calves. "If you find me worthy, Goddess, I would be honoured to complete your bath. Please, just say the word and I shall-"

"Yes, you shall." With one fluid movement she pinched my nose shut, plunged my head underwater, pressed my face to her pussy . . . and simply held me there until she was clean.

<>

"tanya?"

Still in the process of extinguishing the candles around the tub, I turned and smiled. "Yes, Goddess?"

"When you are done in here, please slip into your robe and join me out by the pool. My hair needs to be braided properly, and I think you might appreciate the extra light to work with." She leaned down and bestowed a quick kiss upon my lips. "Don't keep me waiting."

Hoping the blush on my cheeks wasn't nearly as obvious as it felt, I just nodded.

Part 4

"Good morning, Brian."

"Yeah?" I forced a hanger inside my coat and slammed it into the closet. "What's so fucking good about it?" I snarled.

The receptionist visibly flinched as I turned to face her. "Gee . . . rough start to the day, or what?"

Later, I knew I'd feel bad for having taken my frustrations out on her, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I woke up too late to take a shower, spent twenty minutes trying to chisel the ice off my car, got stuck behind some asshole doing about 30km on the highway, then got a fucking ticket when I pulled onto the shoulder to pass him." Already walking away, I snapped, "You'd think people in this city had never seen winter before!"

"Well . . . I hope it gets better." Even without turning, I knew she was watching me with a shy, sheepish grin. Her grey eyes would be wide with concern, and she'd probably be twirling a strand of dirty blonde hair around her finger. Nice as she was, Laura wasn't built for confrontation - which was why she hadn't lasted long on the phones.

"Not bloody likely."

<>

"Thank you for calling help desk. Andrew here."

I shook my head in disgust. Of all the people to take this call off my hands, Andrew was the last person I wanted. Not only was he abrupt with other reps, but he was often short with customers too. How he'd lasted so long on help-desk I had no idea, but I wasn't in the mood to hang up and try for somebody else.

"Yeah," I sighed, "I've got a customer who wants to speak to a supervisor." Not even giving him a chance to ask for the details, I offered, "Name is Richards, first name Farrah, and the address is 1209 McKorel Court." Tossing my glasses down on the desk, I roughly massaged the bridge of my nose as I said, "She wants a month's credit that she doesn't deserve and is demanding we provide written notice stating that we will not charge her VISA again without permission."

Andrew muttered something under his breath. "Why does she want a credit?"

Having already gone through this several times with the customer, I rattled off the details from memory. "She's not happy with the service, says it's not what she expected, and she shouldn't have to pay. There's no record of her having called before now, and there's no indication of problems in her area or with her service. I offered a week's credit to make her happy, but that wasn't good enough."

"Well, if there's no history of problems there's nothing I can do."

"Yes. I know that." I could feel my headache getting worse, but I knew he wasn't going to take responsibility for the call without a fight. "I've been telling her that for the last half hour, but she won't accept it. She wants somebody above me who-"

"Did she ask for a supervisor?"

Son of a bitch. I knew this was coming. "Not by name, no, but-"

Even though we were on different sides of the office, I could hear the way he was shrugging off the call. "Then there's nothing I can do."

"Look, don't give me that shit, okay? I've been sitting here listening to this woman bitch at me for half an hour. I've been as pleasant and polite as anyone could possibly expect, explained the issue six different ways, and did my best to make her happy. She's obviously not willing to listen to me, and wants somebody with - and I quote - some goddamned authority."

The condescending bastard had the nerve to apologise for being such an asshole. "Sorry, bud, but if she didn't ask for a supervisor then you're on your own."

I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him, but forced myself to remain calm. "This is the fifth irate customer I've dealt with this afternoon, and the only one I've had to escalate. So, let me tell you what's gonna happen here. Number one, you can do your goddamned job and take the call. Number two, I can call help-desk back and cold transfer the bitch without any warning. Number three, I can 'accidentally' disconnect her and let the next unfortunate rep deal with her." Finishing off my entry in the customer's database file as I spoke, I told Andrew, "I was supposed to be out of here twenty minutes ago and I ain't dealing with her again." I saved the entry and began logging off the system. "So . . . bud -- what's it gonna be?"

<>

Cold, wet, and in a foul mood, I trudged across the slushy street and jerked open the door to the gym. Usually, I looked forward to my workout as a chance to forget my troubles, work out a few frustrations, and - best of all - bond with my Goddess. This was just one of those days, though, that wasn't going to be so easily dismissed from my mind.

Apparently, I must have looked as pissed as I felt, because the normally outgoing receptionist didn't even try to strike up a conversation. My knuckles white where they gripped the pen, I scrawled my name and membership number in the book, nearly tearing through the page. Then, all but slamming the pen down, I grabbed my gymbag and turned for the changeroom.

"tanya."

If only I'd taken a moment to think. If I'd even paused long enough to take a single breath, I surely would have recognised the musical call of my Goddess. Instead, I whirled around and snapped, "What?"

She didn't say a word.

She didn't blink. She didn't frown. She didn't scowl.

She just turned away, as if I didn't exist, and casually strolled into the women's changeroom.

That would prove to be the last I'd see - or hear - of her for nearly a week.

<>

It was with a heavy heart and sweaty palms that I parked before my Goddess' house Sunday morning. After having been shunned - and rightfully so - for the past week, I had no idea whether I'd be welcome or not. Even now, it seemed inconceivable that I could have acted so harshly towards her, and I knew there was absolutely no excuse for my behaviour. The memory of our last brief, disastrous encounter had left a foul taste in my mouth, so much so that I wanted to be sick.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. I had dishonoured my Goddess, and I was going to have to work very hard to make it up to her.

As I climbed out of the car and over the snowbank left by the passing plows, I wondered if I should have left my clothes in the car. I quickly dismissed the thought. Although such a symbolic sacrifice might have aided my cause, the sight of a naked man skulking outside her home would only bring further grief to my Goddess.

Carefully, quietly, I entered the greenhouse in back and choked back a strangled sob of regret. We'd spent the entire afternoon out here last Sunday, and it had brought us closer than I had ever dreamed possible. It had been like we were best friends -- sisters even -- enjoying a bit of fun by the pool. I hadn't felt so close to another person in a very long time, and I loved her for granting me that gift.

Loved her so much that I had snapped in anger and ruined everything we'd built!

I was disappointed - if not completely surprised - to find she'd changed the locks on her door. Hoping desperately for some sign that I might be able to win back her trust, I circled the pool a dozen times, but there was no key hidden in its clear, chlorine depths.

"You stupid, idiotic, moronic, shortsighted, selfish bastard," I chastised myself. Caught between the urge to drown myself in the pool, and the urge to throw myself at her door wailing for forgiveness, I sighed. "What the hell are you going to do now, huh?"

<>

A few minutes short of three hours later, I collapsed to my knees before her door and hung my head in shame. Desperate for some way to show my remorse, I 'd shovelled my Goddess' driveway, cleaned off her front porch, weeded her garden, swept the walk around her pool, and even wiped down her patio furniture with my good shirt. I knew they were all small, meaningless gestures, but I had to start somewhere.

"What?"

I hadn't even heard the door open. Startled, my head snapped up to meet her accusing gaze. Deep in my heart I had feared I might never see my Goddess again, but here she was, literally towering over me, her Amazonian frame filling the doorway. Clad head to toe in a skin-tight, black PVC catsuit, her stiletto heels added several inches to her already imposing height. Combined with the scowl of disgust on her face, it was like looking up into the face of doom.

I forced myself to swallow my fear as I lowered my eyes to stare at her feet. "Please . . . please forgive me, Goddess. There is no excuse for how I acted the other night, and I am sorry. I'd been through a really bad day and I took it out on you. It was inexcusable." The reflection staring back at me from her boots clearly showed the tears running down my cheeks, but I forced myself to continue. "I was thoughtless, Goddess. I was thoughtless, careless, and rude. I . . . I know I don't deserve it, but I am begging for a chance to make it up to you . . . to prove myself worthy of your attentions all over again."

Moving faster than I'd ever seen before, she lashed out, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and jerked me inside the door. Before I could even catch my breath, she'd wrapped a black leather collar around my neck, buckled it as tight as it would possibly go, then kicked me towards the stairs.

"Basement," she scowled. "Now."

Unsure of what to expect, but knowing I deserved whatever awaited me in the darkness below, I hastily crawled my way down the stairs. Under other circumstances, I'm sure my journey into the darker side of my Goddess' realm would have been exciting and arousing. However, this was definitely a worst-case scenario, which meant I had to fight to keep my mind from straying beyond the cold, uncarpeted stairs.

"Turn left," she snapped, "and kneel in the centre of the room."

She waited until I had obeyed before following me into the darkness. With my head down, all I could do was listen to the sharp sound of her stiletto heels as she passed . . . the angry sound of her breathing as she came to stand behind me . . . and the terrifying whistle of her riding crop as it came down upon my back.

Doing my best to remain motionless, I clenched my teeth in pain and awaited the next fiery sensation.

It never came.

"No. That will teach you nothing." She dropped the riding crop to the floor, then came around to stand before me. "If I am going to punish you for your behaviour, then it will have to be something significant to you in order to have any meaning." My Goddess grabbed my hair again and jerked my head up until I could just barely make out the shine of her eyes in the darkness. "Do you wish to be punished, tanya?"

"Yes, Goddess! I have wronged you, and I desperately want to make amends. Whatever you decide is justified, Goddess, I shall accept and be grateful for it. Please, just--"

Suddenly, she silenced my pleas with a cold, clammy, rubber ball-gag. Of course, I couldn't see what it was she'd forced into my mouth, but the taste and feel of rubber was unmistakable. While I marvelled at the speed with which she moved - her Amazonian size was very deceptive - she pinched my jaw and yanked it down so as to force more of the gag inside my mouth. By the time she was finished, my lips felt like they were going to split at the seams, but I knew I had deserved every uncomfortable moment.

"This," she told me, "is to prevent any repeats of the other night. Perhaps later I will let you apologise, but you haven't yet earned that right. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Good."

With that, she walked away, leaving me to kneel silently in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. During that time my imagination provided its own sinister punishment, making me wonder what her darkened dungeon really contained. Truthfully, I might have been kneeling in nothing more than a domestic laundry room, but I sincerely doubted that.

It just wasn't my Goddess' style.

The sound of her heels upon the stairs was the first sign of her return, but gave me no chance to prepare for what came next. Before I heard her reach the bottom, my eyes were assaulted with the sudden glow of red, fluorescent lights. It was like the room around me had burst into flame, which I knew was preposterous, yet still remained an effective means of keeping me off my guard.

"Lay down, on your back, and spread yourself wide." The instant I complied, she sat herself down between my thighs and placed a bucket of hot wax almost right against my crotch. "To start with," she explained, "I am going to take something you enjoy, an act that you treasure as a part of your femininity, and use it against you." She began pulling a ladle from the wax, then paused. "You will, of course, remain completely still and accept your punishment."

The heat radiating off the bucket was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat, but I forced myself to nod calmly. As much as I feared what was to come next, I knew in my heart that it was a small price to pay if I could regain her trust.

The first drop of scalding wax upon my leg was an agony I'd never thought to experience. It seemed to burn right through to my bones, but I forced myself to lay there and endure it. The second drop was infinitely worse than the first -- mostly because I knew what to expect - and left me wondering if I could endure without passing out. Once she began pouring the wax along my leg, though, I found the constant pain a little easier to deal with.

The problem was, of course, that applying the wax was only the first step.

How I managed to keep from lashing out as she tore the first strip of waxy hair from my leg I'll never know. The only thing I know for sure is that the ball-gag probably saved my tongue from being bit clean in two. My Goddess wasn't pulling any punches, and wasn't doing anything to spare me the pain of a full-body waxing. Like she had said, taking something I treasured - keep myself hairless, like a real woman - and turning it against me was a stroke of genius. It was a punishment that carried both physical and psychological implications, and was impossible to ignore.

<>

"tanya . . . wake up, tanya."

For a moment, I experienced a frightening flash of confusion and disorientation, but the cold caress of my Goddess' latex glove slapping my cheek reminded me of where I was. Although I couldn't remember doing so, I must have passed out before she could finish my waxing.

"Here." Apparently having already removed the ball-gag from my mouth, she replaced it with the nozzle of my familiar sports-bottle. "Not that I think you deserve this, but it's obvious you need something to keep you going."

My mouth was very dry, and at first sucking was a chore, but she was right - I needed it. As I gratefully slurped down the strange tasting fluid, I noticed that it seemed slightly thicker, with more of a medicinal taste beneath the cherry flavour. Maybe it was just the fact that I'd gone a week without my Goddess' assistance at the gym, but I was sure it tasted different . . . stronger, perhaps. Then again, given that I'd passed out during the first phase of my punishment, stronger was just what I needed.

When she finally pulled it away, I managed to gasp, "Thank . . . thank you, Goddess."

"For what?"

I didn't even pause. "For deeming me worthy of punishment, Goddess. For taking the time to correct me and remind me of my duties, when you could have just as easily banished me from your presence." A visible tremor passed through my body as I admitted, "I feared you might never want to see me again."

She smiled, but it went no farther than her lips. Her eyes were still as cold and unfeeling as they had been when we'd started, and that bothered me more than any threat of physical pain. "My mind's not made up yet."

While I pondered that ominous warning, she snapped a leash onto my collar and yanked me to my feet. Cramped and tired as I was, I did my best to stumble along behind her as she led me to the other side of the room. Here, the harsh red light was a little brighter, allowing me to admire just how perfect her Amazonian frame really was. Although I should have been worrying about what she had in mind now, all I could think of was how I longed to throw myself at her feet and worship her PVC-clad beauty.

"Stand before the mirror and tell me what you see."

I nervously shuffled my feet to the side, watching as my body was slowly revealed through its reflection. What I noticed first was the pattern of red, swollen patches of flesh left over from my waxing. The room's red lighting certainly didn't do anything to help the situation, but I knew they 'd look rough for at least another day. Once I got over the shock, though, I noticed just how smooth and hairless I was. There was absolutely no sign of the stubble left my shaving, and I loved it.

It was with a sigh of regret that I looked up past my limp cock to examine the rest of my body. There I found the same red, painful scars of my waxing - which I'd expected - along with a pair of nipples so puffy and swollen I nearly swooned in delight. Even if my Goddess hadn't been present, I wouldn't have risked a caress - they just looked painful - but I loved how feminine they appeared.

Finally, I took a deep breath and looked myself in the eyes. What I saw there was a perplexing mix of genders; a confusing collage that left me feeling somewhat disgusted. It looked as if my Goddess had done my hair and makeup while I lay passed out, and she'd done an exquisite job. My already-long dark hair looked fantastic, having been teased, curled and styled into an 80s kinda look. Having never learned to do my hair myself, I loved her for that.

As for my makeup, it was bright, bold and oh-so-slutty. She'd trimmed my eyebrows, applied some dark blue eyeshadow, then curled and thickened my lashes. My cheeks were positively glowing with a heavy blush, which was set off by the strange lighting, and my shiny red lips looked fuller, sexier than ever before. Unfortunately, the perfection she'd created only served to highlight her single, glaring omission.

I still possessed a half-day's growth of ugly, dark, masculine stubble.

"It's a disturbing combination, isn't it?" Her voice was soft, seductive . . . yet cold and mocking at the same time. "Part of it delights you, part of it arouses you, and part of it humiliates you. You don't like being reminded of what you are, and this only glorifies what it is you're trying to escape."

There was nothing I could do to stop the tears coursing down my cheeks. What I saw before me was everything she said, and nothing I ever wanted to see again. During my darkest depths of depression - before I dedicated my life to revealing the woman inside me - this was exactly how I'd felt about myself.

She lifted my hand to the mirror, displaying the obscenely long, red nails she'd applied for me. Once she was sure I'd had a good look, she pushed my hand back down and wrapped those feminine fingers around my cock. "Now," she whispered, "you are going to masturbate yourself for me. And I don't want to hear any excuses - either anoint your reflection with a healthy dose of boy-cum, or you can leave right now."

Working myself into an orgasm was the last thing on my mind at that moment, but I could not disappoint my Goddess. Even though I was too emotionally distraught to understand her purpose, I knew this was not just a whim on her part. Fortunately, she was standing right behind me, which meant I could focus on her as a source of arousal.

Until she moved out of the reflection.

This was clearly something I'd have to do on my own.

<>

"Unggh . . . ahhh . . . ohhhhhh . . ." A long, difficult, painful, twenty minutes later I finally coaxed my body into obeying the desires of my Goddess. My orgasm wasn't exactly earth shattering, and my weak spurt of watery cum barely reached the mirror, but I had done it. Despite the horrid reflection before me - even more disgusting now that my beautifully styled hair was flat with sweat, and my incredible makeup streaked with tears - I had finally been able to clear my mind and focus on making amends to my Goddess.

Already weak from my ordeal, I was powerless to resist as she pushed me to my knees, then forced me to lick my own cum from the mirror. By that time, I was incapable of feeling anything more, and was far too parched to taste the evidence of my despised manhood. All I could do was rest my forehead against the glass and let reflex guide my actions.

Meanwhile, my Goddess had re-entered the reflection, coming around to stand behind me. Too ashamed to raise my head, I could only see her bright black boots in the mirror, framing my pale, splotchy thighs. I wasn't sure what she expected, or what I was even capable of, so I settled for repeating my earlier vow to appease her.

"Thank . . . thank you, Goddess." The words escaping my throat only with great difficulty, I gasped, "Please, just tell me what you require next, and I shall obey." The tears were coming again, only this time they were accompanied by sobs I could no longer control. "I . . . I want so much to be forgiven!"

Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled back from the mirror, then lifted easily into my Goddess' lap. As soon as I was in place, she spun us around until we were facing away from the mirror, then let me slip to the floor. Gently, without a word, she pressed me down until my head was nestled in the warm, slippery valley of her PVC-clad breasts and wrapped her legs about my waist. Not content to stop there, she wrapped her arms about me as well, nearly erasing all my sorrows with that single gesture.

"tanya." She reached down to kiss the top of my head, prompting me to look up and meet her gaze. To my surprise, her bright green eyes were damp with tears of her own. "Promise me you will never make me put you through that again." She squeezed me tight with both her arms and her legs. "Promise me, tanya, or get out and never come back."

"Never again. Never, ever again." I reached up with a trembling hand and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "You have my word on that, Goddess."

She just nodded, apparently not trusting herself to say anything for the moment. Instead, she retrieved the familiar sports-bottle from beside her and placed it to my lips. As I began to suck, I was immediately struck by the fact that whatever gave it the medicinal taste had completely eclipsed the cherry flavour. Instead of making it unpalatable, though, it just made me crave even more.

Curious, I asked, "Goddess? It's not that I don't trust you implicitly, but may I ask what is in this?"

At this, she smiled. "It's the same thing you've been drinking at the gym. The same thing you've needed for a very long time, but never had the courage to ask for." Her smile spread even wider at the look of surprise on my face, bringing forth an amused, breathy chuckle. "Don't look so shocked, my dear. You must have noticed the changes taking place in your body by now."

"Changes?"

"Yes. The swelling of your breasts, the tenderness of your nipples, the softness of your cock - excuse me, sissy clit." She hugged me close again and kissed my forehead. "I know it's probably happening too slowly for you, and the changes have been too gradual for you to really notice, but it is happening. You can take my word on that."

"B-B-B-But . . . how?" This was a revelation I hadn't expected - a gift I hadn't yet earned, but would do everything in my power to be worthy of. "What kind of hormones, Goddess? Where did you get them? How much is this costing you?" The questions just kept coming.

"Shh." She pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me with the almost oily taste of her catsuit. "The hormones are real, tanya - varying dosages of Estraderm, Premarin, Aldactone, and Provera. All prescription strength, and all perfectly legal. As for where they came from . . ." Here, her smile slipped a bit, leaving her with a distracted, wistful look. "They're from a friend."

I waited for a long moment, then whispered, "A friend, Goddess?"

She shook her head, the smile returning to her face. "Perhaps I'll tell you about her another time. For now, I think we both could use a bath."

At that, we both smiled.

Part 5

After those darkest of days, the relationship between my Goddess and myself blossomed wonderfully. It was as if we needed that horrible day to test our compatibility, as well as our commitment to one another. While it never would have occurred to me to doubt anything about her, I suspect there was probably a subconscious need in me to know for sure - a need that I only suspected after tasting her tears the night of my humiliation. The bond between us had been forged anew that night, and we both knew it would stand the test of time.

Over the course of the next month, my Goddess pushed me harder and further, finding new reserves of strength and courage that only she could force me to reach. In that time we went from an hour a night, three nights a week at the gym, to two hours a night, five nights a week. She introduced me to machines and routines I'd never imagined, and found ways to reshape my body beyond what should have been physically possible. There were many nights where I felt like crawling from the gym to my car, but I thanked her for every gruelling moment.

Thanks to my Goddess I'd toned my legs, added some much-needed flesh to my hips, dropped an inch-and-a-half from my waist, and - much to my delight - developed my breasts into nearly a B-cup. Of course, the fact that she'd stopped watering down my hormone drink was responsible for most of my breast development, but even then I had my Goddess to thank. I didn't yet feel like I'd achieved the body I should have been born with, but the erotic uniforms I wore during my Sunday service were starting to fit a lot better.

Still, it wasn't until the first warm day in March that I discovered just how satisfied my Goddess really was with my progress.

It was a little past 10:00 Saturday morning when I coasted down her driveway on my bike, only to find her waiting beside the pool. Dressed all in black - sports bra and spandex shorts, with Velcro sneakers waiting by her feet - she looked ready to go. Waving a happy hello, I laid my bike against the garage and slipped inside the greenhouse to greet her.

"Good morning, Goddess." Kneeling before her, I kissed her plum-painted toes before helping her on with the shoes. "Thank you for inviting me to join you. Your tanya is delighted that you find her worthy of today's outing, and hopes she can make you proud."

Her coppery curls shone in the morning sunlight as she threw back her head and laughed. "You have earned it, my dear, by providing such a wonderful return on my investment. Now that I see how quickly you blossom into femininity with a woman's guiding spirit behind you . . . well, it makes me wish I'd snatched you from the cradle as a child."

"Mmm. Good thing your slave is already kneeling, Goddess, else a dream like that would have her weak in the knees!"

My Amazonian Goddess laughed again, sending a thrill up my spine. "Let's get you inside, my slut, and prepare for today's exercise." As she helped me up from the ground, she gave me a hearty slap on the ass. "It's already a gorgeous day, and I'd like to get going as soon as possible, so hop to it!"

<>

"Are . . . are you sure I look okay, Goddess?" For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour, I snapped my head around to watch a passing jogger, certain he'd start laughing as soon as he was behind us. Nobody really gave me a second look - it was my Goddess who attracted the most attention, and rightfully so - but I was still feeling very unsure and self-conscious about myself.

As was the case with my Sunday sessions, I had entered the house naked before seeking out my new clothes in the kitchen. Today they had consisted of a hot-pink sports bra with matching panties, a pair of pink capris pants, a white blouse, and white ladies' canvas sneakers. I'd been surprised by my Goddess' choices, but had dutifully dressed as quickly as possible before presenting myself to her.

Nodding thoughtfully, she'd then had me sit on the edge of her bed while she painted my fingernails. Maybe I was just preternaturally sensitive to my Goddess' touch, but I swear I felt each cold, wet stroke of the brush right through my nails. After that, she'd quickly styled my hair into a cute, but tidy ponytail that she promised would hold throughout the day - or at least until she decided to rip it out in a fit of passion! Finally, she'd applied the bare minimum of makeup to my blushing face. Just a little foundation over my cheeks, some eyeshadow, and (of course) lipstick - enough to make me presentable, but not so much that a little sweat would harm her creation.

"Silly slut." Waiting until we edged our way around a pair of novice inline skaters, she pulled her bike close to mine and smiled. "What did I tell you before we left, tanya? I said you looked pretty enough to take to the gym, and nobody out here is going to get nearly as good a look as they would indoors. If I didn't think you could pass, I never would have invited you to join me." Suddenly, she lashed out with her left hand and tweaked my nipple. "Now, stop being so silly, or I just might have to throw you down and rape you in front of all these nice people!"

Not sure whether to be intimidated our aroused, I watched her kick her legs into high gear, easily pulling away from me. "Hey," I giggled, "no fair confusing me like that!" Still smiling, I found my anxiety had already slipped away as I hurried to catch up.

<>

Three hours and I can't begin to guess how many miles later, she led us off the trail and into one of the picnic areas that dominated the parkway. To the families and tourists around us, we must have made quite a sight - an Amazonian goddess, dressed all in black, with her pink-clad, slender submissive behind her. I wasn't sure if I'd prefer to find out we were stopping or just turning around, but when she pulled up to the bike-racks, I found myself sighing in relief.

Arms crossed before her 40DD breasts, my Goddess stood back from the bikes and allowed me to lock them up. "Once you're done there," she told me, "make sure to give them both a quick inspection. I want to make sure there are no surprises on the way home."

Nodding, I did as she ordered, checking the tires, brakes, gears, seats, and so on. To my delight, this was an area I knew a lot about, so I honestly felt like I could contribute something to my Goddess' routine. Everything looked good, but I didn't want to risk missing something that might inconvenience her later. As soon as I began double-checking things, though, I heard a deep-throated chuckle from behind as she stepped forward to grab a handful of my hair.

"Why don't you check that seat again, tanya?" Gently forcing my head down, she said, "Pay very close attention . . . feel it . . . smell it . . . taste it." She held my face less than an inch above the seat and waited patiently. "Come on, my slut - what do your senses tell you?"

Fully aware of how much attention we must have been drawing to ourselves, I licked my lips and forced myself to focus. First, I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of my Goddess' sweat . . . and something more. It was heady, intoxicating, but there was more than just the musk of physical exertion. Completely engrossed in my discovery, I leaned even closer until my nose was pressing against the warm, wet seat. By now I didn't care who might be watching, for I'd begun to suspect just what it was that my Goddess wanted me to notice.

"Well?"

As my tongue darted out to lick the seat, I blushed. "You . . . you must have really enjoyed our ride, Goddess." Suddenly oblivious to the fears and anxiety that had plagued me off and on all afternoon, I enjoyed another long lick. "Mmm," I admitted, "I can taste all your glorious juices!"

"Yes." She knelt down to whisper in my ear. "The hot sun beating down upon me . . . the warm air whispering across my flesh . . . the spandex shorts rubbing between my labia . . . the bicycle seat bouncing so roughly against my clit . . . the sight of my cute little slave riding beside me." Having let go of my hair, she wrapped her arms around me and began pulling at my nipples. "I came three times during our ride, tanya - and we still have the ride home ahead of us."

Eyes and ears only for her, I asked, "Would . . . would you like your slave to clean the seat for you, Goddess?"

She chuckled softly and turned her head to nibble at my earlobe. "Only if you beg."

I no longer cared who might be watching or listening. "May I please clean your seat with my tongue, Goddess? May your slave lick up the wondrous, delicious mess of your cum and your sweat?" Here I was, kneeling in the middle of a public park, begging to lick a soiled bicycle seat - and loving it. "I know I am not worthy, Goddess, but I promise I will make-"

"Shh." She was pressing my face into the black seat again, and holding me there. "Lick. Suck. Kiss. Show all these happy families just what a real picnic can be." She laughed loudly at the blush spreading across my cheeks. "Do a good job, tanya, and I just might let you take care of my panties when we're done."

All I could manage in reply was a muffled "Mmmmm!" but we both knew what I meant.

<>

"Not that I doubt you, my slut, but do you really have the slightest idea where we are going?" Her lips pursed thoughtfully, my Goddess paused beside a Volvo-sized boulder to stretch. I watched, mesmerised, as she arched herself back over the rock, rising onto the very tips of her toes until the DD valley of her breasts seemed to cradle the sky.

Gawd, what I wouldn't give for that kind of supple, effortless, flexibility!

"While it is very nice down here," she sighed, "and while you have been a wonderful guide . . ."

With the blinding reflexes of a cat, she snapped upright from the rock and literally pounced upon me. Startled, I had only a moment to appreciate the black-clad beauty being thrust upon me. A fleeting glimpse of copper curls streaming behind a wide, crazy grin exploded upon my vision, then even that was lost as she swept me off my feet and tossed me over her shoulder.

"I have needs, tanya - needs that only my cute little slut can satisfy! Now," she growled playfully, "which way to your nearest little slice of paradise?"

Unable to repress a squeal of girlish glee, I pretended to struggle against her grip. "Th-th-that way, Goddess!" Thoroughly enjoying my own helplessness, I thrilled to the sharp slap of her hand across my ass, especially since it was so closely followed by a honest to goodness grope. "J-j-just over the next ridge," I panted, "and around the f-f-f-fallen . . . fallen tree!"

"Good. Let's go."

<>

As we emerged from the thick, broken foliage of the fallen tree, she actually gasped in wonder. Before us was a small, sun-drenched clearing with gentle waves lapping against the shore to our left, and thick brush all around that effectively hid paradise from all but those who knew precisely where to look. However, while all of that was wonderful and beautiful, it was the unusual river-hewn boulder directly ahead that had captured my Goddess' attention.

"tanya, this . . . this is so much more than I expected." Not taking her eyes from the scene before us, she gently lowered me to the ground, then wrapped her arms about my waist. "Tell me," she whispered into my ear, "how did all this come about?"

"Time," I smiled, "lots and lots of time." It felt strange to be teaching my Goddess, when it should have been the other way around, but I was delighted to have something so unique to offer. "The boulders themselves were deposited here by receding glaciers," I explained, "and subtly shaped by centuries upon centuries of being submerged in the raging rapids. Over time, the persistent, swirling eddies of the river gradually ate away at the stone, leaving-"

"Leaving," she finished, "a lovely granite couch upon which a Goddess might take her slave amidst the great outdoors." She slipped her strong hands down my body to cup the panty-clad cheeks of my ass and thrust me forward. "Lie down, my slut, and prepare to worship at the fountain of my sex!"

She didn't have to ask me twice! Grinning like a schoolgirl - albeit, a very naughty schoolgirl - I hurried over and laid myself down upon the cool stone couch. The hard, smooth surface left a chill along my back, but I was sure we'd be warming up soon. While I was a little nervous about our exhibitionistic adventure, I had to admit it carried an extra thrill that really seemed to be turning on my Goddess. There was a fire and passion in her gaze that I'd never seen before, and there was a damp spot on the front of her shorts that was spreading even as I watched.

"Open those pretty lips," she hissed, "and stick out your tongue." Hands on her hips, she began sauntering forward. "Farther. Reach. Stick that tongue out farther, tanya. You are going to lick me to orgasm, and then I'm going to take off my shorts and you're going to do it again." She halted before me, close enough that I could smell the juices soaking through her shorts. "And then I'm going to take off my panties," she promised, "and you're going to do it all over again."

I was about to tell her I'd be more than happy to do it as many times as she desired, but never had the chance. The instant that final command slid seductively across her lips, she launched herself up into the air, literally landing on my face. I hadn't expected her to pounce upon me so suddenly, but my pained gasp turned out to be a pleasant surprise itself as it filled my lungs with the pungent aroma of her musk.

"Huhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm!" Eyes closed in rapture, I began licking away at the sweaty, cum-soaked crotch of my Goddess's shorts. The heady mixture alone would have been enough to send me straight to heaven, but the way she was grinding herself against my tongue was just plain sinful!

It couldn't have been much more than a minute later before she climaxed upon me. Two quick, whimpering moans were all the warning she offered, and even then I was too busy to really notice. All I knew was that her hump-n-bump style of grinding suddenly came to a halt, only to be replaced with one long, drawn-out thrust against my face.

"Not bad, my slut." Her face flushed, she stood up on the stone couch and straddled my head with her black sneakers. From where I lay, the view was unbelievably exquisite - from the dark, dripping mound of her shorts . . . to the sweaty, nipple-peaked mounds of her sports bra . . . to the glistening, grinning smile of her face. At that moment, she could have told me she truly was an immortal Amazonian Goddess of ages past, and I would have believed every word of it.

Sliding slender, powerful fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts, she began pushing them slowly down her legs. I thought I had a few moments to rest, but as soon as that black, dripping crotch was suspended about halfway down her thighs, she performed another of her catlike pounces and dropped to kneel astride my head. "Take them into your mouth," she told me, "and get ready to pull - NOW!"

Pushing off with those same incredible, muscular thighs, my Goddess jumped up and away from my face with enough force to give me whiplash. To my credit, I managed to keep my teeth firmly clamped around my prize, although I nearly lost them when they came free from her feet to snap back harshly against my face.

"Spit them out! Quickly!"

Wincing and squinting with the sting of wet spandex, I did as she commanded. I tossed my head to the side, flinging her shorts onto the ground, then turned back just in time to have her slam back down upon me once again. Stunned, I needed a moment to catch my bearings, but with nothing between her glorious sex and my tongue but a thin layer of black satin . . . well, I had every reason to come to my senses!

"Lick it, tanya!" she screamed. "Yessss . . . oh, yes . . . just . . . like . . . that!" She wasn't just grinding herself against my face this time -- she was thrashing and dancing upon my tongue like a woman possessed.

For my part, I was blinded by the frantically writhing pussy above me, deafened by the quivering thighs to either side, and muffled by the delicious satin wrapped around my tongue. Physically, my Goddess' pleasure was my entire world, bringing my dreams to fruition. I had to admit, though, that I was getting deliriously anxious to taste the naked lips of the labia. Satin had even more of a synthetic taste to it than spandex, and I so desperately wanted to feast upon the pure, untainted ambrosia of her juices.

"Yesss!"

"Unnngggh!"

As she shrieked in passion, overcome by her second orgasm in a matter of minutes, I moaned in wonder as the force of her climax sent a spray of ambrosia right through her panties. That, of course, just had me lapping and licking away even more frantically than before, drawing out her orgasm until we both collapsed, panting with the exertion.

"One . . . one more," she gasped a while later. She slowly slid herself off my face, dragging her pantied-crotch against my tongue. As my sweat-drenched face emerged from its musky prison, I found myself staring up into a smile of dominant bliss. "Make room for your Goddess, my slut." Bestowing a quick, passionate kiss upon me, she said, "This time I think I'll lie down and let you focus upon the task at hand."

"Certainly, my Goddess." I rolled awkwardly off the stone couch and let her take my place. Then, crawling back up between her legs, I carefully took the crotch of her panties between my lips and began worrying them away from her steaming pussy with a gentle shaking of my head. Once they were free, I made an elaborate show of sucking them dry, which brought forth an amused smile from my Goddess that aroused me even further.

For the concluding chapter of her orgasmic trilogy, I came in soft and slow, taking my time in bringing her to the brink once again. To begin with, I licked my way up each of her smooth, hairless thighs, themselves deliciously salty with her sweat. Next, I bestowed a hundred tiny kisses upon her swollen, pink labia, starting to one side of her clit and working my way around to the other. Encouraged by her moans of pleasure, I kissed my way around the circle again, only this time I ended by taking her engorged clit between my lips.

"Suck my clit, tanya," she whispered. "Be my pretty little slut and suck it like the tiny cock that - oh! - that it is . . ."

I smiled into her pussy, already way ahead of her wishes. I held her gorgeous clit between my lips as I flicked it with my tongue, pausing only to nibble upon it with the utmost care before once again ambushing it with my tongue. By now the juices were pouring from inside her glorious hole, pooling between her legs like some divine spring. Later, I'd lap up that mess like the pussycat that I was, but for now it would have to flow unabated, if not unappreciated.

"Enough . . . enough of that, my slut." Her head tossed back, her eyes closed tight, and her teeth clenched shut, she hissed at me in desire. "It's time for you to stick . . . to stick . . . to stick out that talented tongue for me." As her hand came down upon the back of my head to pull me close, I could actually feel it tremble. "F-F-Fuck . . . fuck with your face, my slut. Fuck . . . me . . . now!"

Taking one brief, deep breath, I slammed my face into the red valley of her pussy and stuck my tongue as deep as it would go. My gawd, it was the most incredible sensation imaginable! She was so hot, so moist, and so wonderfully delicious I almost hoped she'd remain on the brink of orgasm forever. My tongue was lapping at the walls of her vagina, coaxing out a virtual flood of cum that had no chance of escaping the vacuum of my mouth. I could actually feel the climax building inside her, and when it came . . . I just continued to feast and feast and feast and feast and . . .

<>

Afterwards, my Goddess and I lay together upon the stone couch, snuggling beneath the warm Spring sun. There was just enough of a breeze coming off the river to make our nipples hard, but that just gave us extra reason to be rub up against one another.

One arm wrapped around her back, my palm idly stroking her right breast, I reached down with the other to grab out water bottles. Inside my Goddess' insulated silver sleeve was a bottle of Coke, her one and only vice. She didn't smoke, she didn't drink, and she rarely touched coffee or tea. Instead, she preferred to treat herself with a cold bottle of Coke - never a can. Inside my smaller pink sleeve, of course, was the hormone-laced sports drink that she had prepared for me earlier that morning.

I waited for her to enjoy a long swallow before taking a sip of my own. "Goddess?" Taking another sip, I looked up into her beautiful eyes and paused. There was something I wanted desperately to ask her, but I wasn't sure how she'd react. On the one hand, I couldn't imagine a more perfect moment for such a discussion. But, on the other hand, I didn't know if she'd ever really want to talk about it. "I . . . I don't wish to ruin what has been a wonderful afternoon," I began, "so please stop me if I'm out of line, but . . . well, may I ask-" I gave the water bottle a shake "-about her?"

She just stared at me for a few long minutes, making me think I'd gone too far, pushed a boundary that I had no right trying to cross. I was waiting for her to toss me on the ground, or slap me for my ignorance, but instead she placed the water bottle down beside herself and sighed. "Yes," she said softly, "it's fitting - I think she would have liked your little slice of paradise."

Motioning for me to lay my head upon her breast, my Goddess took me in her arms and held me close. I could tell she was preparing herself for something difficult, and I started to wonder once again if I had any right to ask. Before I could offer to change the subject, though, she began . . .

<>

"My mother left me when I was very young. I think I was maybe five or six, I don't really remember. All I know is that I was far too young to be without a mother. The last memory I have of her isn't much at all - the scent of lavender, the sensation of soft hair tickling my cheek, and the light brush of her lips against my forehead. For all I know, I dreamt that kiss, but I'm almost certain the rest of it is real. Almost.

I spent the next seven years bouncing between one orphanage after another. It seemed like whenever I started to feel comfortable in one, they'd ship me off to another. Oh, there were several brief stops in different foster homes along the way, but they only took me in long enough to break my heart and send me on my way. After a while, I even gave up on trying to run away when I realised there was nowhere to which I could really run.

As you might expect, I learned to become a very cold, unfeeling, sullen, bitch of a lonely child. It wasn't worth caring about anyone or anything, because that just meant they could hurt you by taking it a way. Friends were a joke - kids came and went before you even learned their names - and all I had of my family was the memory of a kiss I'm not even sure was real. Of course, when you denied anybody the power to hurt your feelings, that just led to other problems.

The first time I got the shit beat out of me, I crawled into the attic and cried myself to sleep. It was over a week before the bruises and black eye began to heal, but emotionally, the damage was done. The second time it happened, I crawled under the back porch and cried through the night. I didn 't find out until the next afternoon that I'd broken my arm, but at least it earned me an overnight stay in the safety of the hospital.

As it turned out, that broken arm probably saved my life. It had been a clean break, so I ended up needing a great deal of therapy once it healed. Of course, there was no way the orphanage was going to pay for a physical therapist, so they simply gave me the keys to the gym and told me to take care of myself.

Like I hadn't already been doing that most my life.

Anyway, the boys took my presence in the gym as some kind of threat to their masculinity, so they did their best to make me feel unwelcome. At first, it was just taunts, teasing, name-calling, and petty little things like stealing my clothes or sabotaging my equipment. Fortunately, by that time I' d already learned not to care, so I just ignored their childish antics. Of course, that just made the boys feel even more threatened, which led to . . . 'the incident.'

I don't remember what day it was, but it was after lights-out and I was working out alone - or so I'd thought. They must have used the sharp sound of crashing weights to cover their approach, because by the time I heard the footsteps behind me, it was too late. Suddenly, I felt a thick leather belt come down upon my throat, strangling my cries as the cowardly bastard held me in place for his friends. While I was busy struggling against him, another of the assholes jumped down between my legs, making sure I had no chance to close them.

I was terrified, and honestly didn't think I'd survive to tell anybody about it. When they started fondling my pre-pubescent tits, I just bit my lip and sobbed silently. As much as I wanted to think they were just trying to scare me, I knew they weren't going to stop there. When the ringleader began tearing off my shorts, though, something snapped inside of me. Feeling a surge of adrenaline rush through me, I brought my knee up into his balls with enough force to lift him off his feet. That seemed to surprise the shit out of his friends, and I took full advantage of the moment.

I honestly don't remember what happened next, other than a blurred rush of images that I can never quite focus upon on. When it was all over, though, I 'd mangled one of their hands in the old machine; blinded another with my handheld, 'girlie' barbells; shattered the shin of another with my 'dyke' boots; and pretty much ruined any chance their ringleader had of ever fathering children. Of course, since he was the bastard who had broken my arm in the first place, it seemed somewhat fitting.

Before the morning arrived, I was shipped off to yet another orphanage, this time three towns away. It was there that I honed my tomboy persona to perfection, denying myself every feminine feeling or instinct in order to survive. I was a chilling little monster, somebody the other kids learned very quickly to avoid -- and I hated myself for it every single day. I didn' t want to be like that, but if it was the only way I could survive . . ."

<>

When she paused to take another long swallow of Coke, I hugged her tight and planted a soft, tender kiss on her breast. There was nothing I could really say, but I sensed words weren't really necessary. Besides, her tale was only half over, and I didn't want to intrude upon her moment.

<>

"It was the eve of my thirteenth birthday when she showed up. When I was called up to the front office, all I saw was a short, plump, blonde, forty-year-old stranger. I had absolutely no idea who she was, no memory of having ever seen her before, and no desire to get to know her. And, when they told me why she'd come, that's exactly what I told them. As far as I was concerned, she was just another bitch who'd offer me a glimmer of hope, then turn me away and break what was left of my cold little heart.

She claimed to be my Aunt, and flashed a bunch of pictures that were supposedly of herself and my mother to prove it. Of course, I couldn't even remember my mother's name, much less what she looked like, so all I could do was look at the photos and shrug. My supposed baby photos were even less helpful, but there was one particular shot that caught my attention. It showed a woman laying on a hospital gurney with a baby in her arms, and another woman holding her hand. Again, they were all meaningless figures to me, but what caught my eye was the stuffed pink cat under the second woman's arm. I'd had one just like it when I was younger, and had cried for weeks when it got left behind during one of my many transfers from one orphanage to another.

To this day, I don't know if she really was my Aunt or not, but the fact that I recognised the cat was enough for my keepers. The orphanage was in financial difficulty, and was probably going to ship us all out before the end of the year anyway, so if they could get rid of me early . . . why not? Telling me to be good for my Auntie, they gave me half an hour to pack my things, say my goodbyes, and get out.

Less than ten minutes later, we were in her car and on the road."

<>

This time when she paused, I inched my way up until my head was resting in the crook of her shoulder. From there, I could see that my Goddess seemed to be under some kind of spell as she gazed out over the water, her eyes bright and unblinking. The process of lifting the water bottle to her lips was automatic, like something her body sensed was needed, but to which she gave no thought. Slowly, I lifted one trembling hand to brush a stray copper curl from her forehead, but even that didn't seem to register.

I wanted so much to say something comforting, but I was afraid of intruding upon the moment. Although it had been my question that started it all, I was starting to realise that these painful memories weren't for my benefit at all. Instead, they were a form of emotional healing, a form of closure on a part of her life that seemed so different from the woman I knew today.

With the bottle halfway to her lips, she suddenly began again.

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"You'll forgive me for not going into detail about the years that followed, but they are . . . difficult memories for me. For the most part, they were the sweetest, most delightful, most wonderful, and most rewarding of my life. In a way, they were the fulfilment of that half-remembered childhood kiss, a gift from the mother I never knew. Maybe Lydia really was my Aunt. Then again, maybe she was just an opportunistic stranger with a taste for innocent female flesh. To be perfectly honest, I never asked, and I don't care to ever find out.

Our first six months together were absolutely brutal on both of us. She did everything in her power to show me she really cared, and I did everything in mine to show that I didn't. How she ever put up with me, I'll never know, but she just accepted my spiteful slings and arrows with the smiling grace of a true Goddess. To be honest, that loving pacifism drove me insane with frustration. Try as I might, I couldn't make her hate me.

Then, one unforgettable night, I pushed her too far. I will not repeat what I said - those words will never, ever pass my lips again - but she slapped me for the offence. The slap itself was barely hard enough for me to feel it through my thick skin. No, the true sting came when I saw the tears it brought to her eyes. It was then that I realised somebody might actually care . . . and the implications of that terrified me.

Over the course of the next year she slowly wore down my defences, stripping me of the boundaries and walls I'd worked so hard to build. We started with an uneasy stalemate, and gradually progressed through acceptance, and then honest attachment. I still couldn't bring myself to call her my Aunt, but I . . . I allowed myself to learn her name. For the first time in years I addressed another human being by their first name, rather than Sir, or Ma' am, or Hey You.

For me, that was a huge leap of trust.

Like I said, I won't go into details, but from there our relationship blossomed into something extraordinary. Once she had taught me to care, teaching me to love came easy. And, once I'd learned to untangle the barbed wire from around my heart, falling in love . . . well, it came naturally.

Ironically, it wasn't until we entered the next stage of our relationship that I finally found the courage to call her my Aunt. Almost two years to the day after becoming lovers, she introduced me to the world of dominance and submission. At first, I was terrified by the whole concept, for it brought back far too many memories of my uncaring, bitch of a tomboy, years. Together we'd worked so hard to help me shed that persona, to help me reclaim the femininity it had hurt so much to lose, and I felt like she was wanting me to take a step backwards.

Instead, she taught me how to be complete . . . how to be a total woman . . . and, most importantly, how to protect that which was most precious to my self-esteem."

<>

"You . . . you must have loved her very much." Now that I'd begun to recognise the parallels to our relationship, I simply couldn't remain silent any longer. For the first time in our relationship, I truly felt like I could give something back to her, and that delighted me. "I think I understand much of what you must have felt towards her, my Goddess. Yours was the kind of relationship that comes around only once in a lifetime, and I think she must have recognised that from the start. Whether the biology backs it up or not, she was your Auntie, spiritually as well as emotionally, and that's all that matters."

"My, but you are a perceptive little slut." As the familiar smile returned to her lips, she placed her fingers beneath my chin and pulled me towards her. "I was right - she would have loved this, just as she would have loved you." With that, she placed her lips to mine and engaged me in our first real kiss. No simple brushing of lips, this was as much as kiss of affection as it was of passion.

Eventually, she released my tongue from the gentle clench of her teeth, and actually laughed as I jumped forward to lick the tip of her nose. Gently shaking her head, she wrapped me in a tender hug and sighed softly. "Now," she whispered sombrely, "you must let me finish."

<>

"During the last three years of her life, she spent almost as much time in the hospital as in our bed. First it was a mastectomy that devastated us both, a hysterectomy that seemed almost anti-climactic, menopause - which seemed totally unnecessary by that point - and finally a heart attack followed so closely by a stroke, the doctors never were quite sure which came first.

Between the chemotherapy treatments, the painkillers, the antibiotics, and the hormone replacement therapy, I'm not sure how much of her was really her by the end. It seemed like every time the doctors took something away, they replaced it with something that was never hers to begin with. Of course, we liked to brighten the darkest days with talk of how love was truly all she needed, but . . . well, at least she passed away with a smile.

Before she left me, though, she made me promise not to forget all she had taught me. Secretly, I had already decided that I would never let myself care for anyone again, but she saw right through me. Even as I wiped the bloody spittle from her lips, she demanded I honour her memory by seeking out another lost soul and doing for . . . doing for you what she had done for me."

<>

It took a moment for that to sink in, but as the reality hit me I felt tears begin rolling down my cheeks. They were tears of profound sorrow, unbridled joy, deepest gratitude, and fawning admiration all at once. Speechless, I just looked up into my Goddess' eyes -- and found such total understanding and compassion there that I knew I would belong to her always.

Softly, gently, she kissed the tears from my eyes until I could match her smile with one of my own. "Auntie would have adored you, tanya. I don't know how she knew, but when she made me promise to honour her memory, you must have been precisely who she had in mind."

"Do . . . do you really think so, Goddess?"

She nodded. "Of course. Why else would she have had all her prescriptions made out in my name?"

<>

to be continued?

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