1. SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO SERVE

Sandra didn’t recognize the number on the cell, but she answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“Hi, slut, isn’t today your daughter’s eighteenth birthday?”

In one instant everything changed. Sandra had spent the last eighteen years protecting her daughter from her dark nasty past, from the dominant woman on the phone, but in the blink of an eye everything had caught up with her.

Sandra stammered, still praying she was wrong, “M-M-Mariah, is that you?”

“Shouldn’t it still be Mistress Mariah to you, my long-lost slut?” the voice on the phone corrected her abruptly. Even over the phone her tone rattled Sandra, bringing back emotions from times long buried.

I mustn’t give her that! But… Sandra looked around to make sure her daughter wasn’t nearby before whispering, “Hi, Mistress Mariah.”

Sandra hadn’t seen Mariah in just under eighteen years. Sandra had known she had to break free from the life-controlling power Mariah had exercised over her throughout her college years. The power that had reached its pinnacle when Sandra, eight months pregnant, while bound and being fucked in the ass by Mariah’s big strap-on, had promised Mariah that she would give her Mistress full control of the daughter she was going to give birth to. It was a ridiculous promise, but Sandra had been a completely obedient sub back then. She would do anything to please her Mistress… ANYTHING. Christ, Sandra had even gotten pregnant at a sperm bank a month after Mariah had learned she was pregnant, just so they could raise their children together. It was ridiculous, so one night, Sandra fearing for the future of her soon-to-be-born child, just up and disappeared, created a new identity for herself and her child in another country… Canada.

“Hi, slut. Miss me?” Mariah asked, her tone playful. Well, playful in the way a cat is with a mouse.

Sandra thought to herself how much she hated her past reliance on Mariah for all her sexual needs and the humiliation that always went with it all those years ago.

Plus, the true reality that she had denied all these years which was she hadn’t remotely been sexually fulfilled since those wild submissive days when she a mindless slave to her college roommate.

“What, slut? The thought of my pussy got you tongue tied?” Mariah snapped sarcastically.

“Sorry, I’m just really surprised to hear from you.” Sandra said, her head spinning with all the potential threats to her orderly life that flooded into her thoughts with this phone call, even as her pussy dampened uncontrollably.

Sandra flashed back:

Images of being on my knees between Mariah’s legs while my Mistress wrote essays, while she watched TV and even once under a crowded table at a charity fund raiser meeting, flooding back to my mind and to my cunt.

“Well, I suppose your surprise is understandable since you did run away from me,” Mariah pointed out, not condoning but stating a fact.

“I had to,” Sandra replied, determined to be strong.

Sandra flashed back:

Mariah telling me how her child would eventually become my Mistress when she was old enough, (she knew she was having a girl), while she would become my daughter’s Mistress (I too had learned I was going to have a girl).

“Why?” Mariah asked, although her tone implied she knew.

“To protect Kelly,” Sandra replied, still determined to stand strong.

“From what?” the Mistress asked, innocently.

“From becoming like me,” Sandra admitted.

Sandra flashed back:

To my freshman year, much of which I had spent sleeping and even doing homework in a dog house in my own room while training to be Mariah’s perfectly obedient pet. We were living together in a rather upscale dorm, where instead of sharing just a room, we had an actual suite, with a small sitting room just off the common hallway where our desks and a sofa were, a bedroom for each of us, our own bathroom and even a small kitchenette.

“Well, that’s an impossible goal,” Mariah responded confidently, “Like Mother, like Daughter, it’s one of the only laws of evolution that matter.”

“That’s absurd,” Sandra replied, praying her (former? Once again?) Mistress was wrong.

Sandra flashed back to the first time she’d submitted to Mariah:

It was an absurdity that started it all. I had been watching TV in the common area with some other girls, when I returned upstairs to our suite to find Mariah waiting for me. She was standing across the room from me naked except for her ubiquitous thigh high stockings and a strap-on cock attached to her hips. I was unable to take my eyes off her firm breasts. I was still a virgin. I had dated a few boys in high school but had never gone further than giving a couple of blow jobs, which I’d hated doing. I’d even wondered if maybe deep down I wasn’t gay. My late-night dreams usually included girls and since moving into the girls’ dorm, those fantasies had begun including my outgoing, voluptuous, blonde, pretty, aggressive roommate Mariah. My gay curiosity was about to be satisfied by Mariah herself who smiled at me confidently and ordered, “Get naked, Sandra.”

“What?” I gasped.

“Get naked, now,” she demanded, her tone aggressive.

“This is absurd,” I said, turning to go to my room.

“Stop, or else,” Mariah threatened me.

I stopped, startled by her threatening tone and turned back to look at my roommate. “Or else what?” I asked her, nervously.

“You don’t want to know,” she replied ominously, her glare daring me to challenge her. I was pretty sure she knew I’d been drooling over her since we met but was too shy to do anything about it, and even though I myself wasn’t sure of my sexuality, I could tell she’d already decided on my behalf that it wasn’t hetero. She’d decided I was a lesbian and she was going to seduce me, and what’s more, she planned to slowly but inexorably turn me into a perfect pet plaything. I felt like a deer in the headlights, frozen in place as Mariah confidently walked over to me.

“But…” I attempted to find something to say as I stood there helplessly, watching her approach.

“But nothing, unless you want this dick in your butt instead of your cunt,” Mariah smirked, playing on the word but. Stepping up to me, she began to unbutton my blouse, the anticipation of what her actions portended adding to the wetness of my already damp vagina.

“No, I…” I again tried to find words to stop this, but my resolve was weakening. My roommate’s full, naked breasts with their obviously hard nipples looked so appetizing, and the plastic penis poking through her skirt at my vagina had my head spinning.

“Look, Sandra,” Mariah began, as she pulled off my blouse. “You are a lesbian. A submissive one. I know it and you know it. And starting right now, you will be trained to become my personal pet. I know you’ll want to be a good one.”

Mariah’s words were absurd, but her touch had me feeling docile and weak. She unclasped my bra. “Such small titties,” my seductress pointed out, not in a kind way but intended to humiliate. “You could almost be a boy.”

Her criticism shamed me. I’d always felt self-conscious about my small breasts, but instead of criticizing her in return or even saying something timidly defensive about people liking my pretty eyes or something, all I could do was stand there paralyzed as my vagina got wetter.

Already feeling resigned to becoming her pet-to-be, I allowed her to yank down my skirt, pull my panties to my ankles and aggressively bend me over the couch. I felt dazed as she rubbed the plastic cock head up and down my wet vagina until she asked, “Do you want me to fuck you, Sandra?”

All I could do was involuntarily moan, my mind a fog of conflicting emotions. Yes, in the short time since we’d met I already had a secret crush on Mariah and wanted desperately to have her approval, but I’d always been a romantic and, well, this was far from romantic.

“All you have to do Sandra, is ask me to fuck you and you are mine,” Mariah promised.

The dominating eighteen-year-old’s hands grasping my hips and her teasing of my virginal vagina were too much and I heard myself whimpering, “Please.”

“Please what?” my temptress asked insistently, tapping her cock on my very wet pussy and its sensitive lips, almost sending me into a swoon.

“Please have sex with me,” I managed, weakly.

“Don’t you mean to say you want me to fuck you?” Mariah asked crudely.

I was a shy, reserved girl and wasn’t much of a swearer and Mariah had previously commented on that, but my desire to lose my virginity to this forceful girl overpowered my normal morality so I begged, desperate to succumb, “Please then, fuck me, Mariah.”

“You want me to shove my cock in your wet cunt you cute, submissive little slut?” Mariah asked, relishing her power as she pushed me my first few steps down a long road of lesbian domination.

Mariah’s plastic cock was now poised between my virginal but eager pussy lips. I heard in my head alarm bells clamouring loudly for me to ‘run’, but the rest of my body was filled with an overpowering urgency for release, so instead of running I begged, “Yes, Mariah, fuck my cunt with that big cock, take my virginity.”

Mariah plunged the cock deep inside her slave-to-be and my descent as her submissive slave began. It’s said that you never forget your first time and that was certainly true for me, as my first was the beginning of a long transformation from sweet, shy Sandra to submissive, slut Sandra.

A part of myself I’d never known existed was awakened the moment my pussy was filled by the plastic cock. This previously undiscovered part sprang alive in a heartbeat, the sexual being that had lain dormant for the majority of my life other than the small, timid, late-night pleasures I had given myself. The real thing was so different from those experimental baby steps and so electrifying that I felt alive for the first time in my entire life. My pussy was being ravished and all I wanted was more.

Reserved Sandra was gone, horny Sandra moaned and begged, “Oh God yes, more, Mariah.”

Mariah later told me she smiled as she watched her shy roommate transform in front of her eyes, knowing it was only a matter of time before she had her own live-in pet. Having been on the receiving end it came as no surprise to me when Mariah said she hadn’t had the faintest intention of making love to me, she wanted to fuck me hard, and she took great pleasure that with each forward thrust her entire body collided with mine. The slapping sounds of two bodies meeting echoed through the room, as did the increasingly loud moans of the no-longer-a-virgin Sandra. I was so overwhelmed that it felt like an out-of-body experience as the physical Sandra writhed and cried out in frantic ecstasy while my consciousness was no more than a bodiless observer.

Not surprisingly, all this time of pent-up desire soon exploded into one intense, body-numbing orgasm as I screamed, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, I’m coming!”

I’d brought myself to orgasm before, but it was apparent I hadn’t been very good at it. The orgasm that was currently riddling my body with pulses of pleasure from my head down to my toes was like nothing I’d ever experienced. The pleasure kept coming in wave after wave after wave and I can still remember almost passing out when I forgot to breathe, being so overwhelmed by the pleasure cascading through my body.

Looking back, I’m sure Mariah was smiling as she knew her pet was experiencing a newfound pleasure (and I certainly was) and knew that the first step in the lengthy training process was completed (and it certainly was). Mariah pulled out of me while I was still quivering and left the room, knowing she was leaving me wanting more and knowing when my orgasm had subsided I would be riddled with insecurity, self-doubt, shame and craving… the perfect mixture needed to manipulate me with later. And she’d been right.

And so it had begun.

“Oh, we will see how well you have protected your daughter,” Mariah said, her tone so confident and foreboding, a chill went up Sandra’s spine. “Now go get yourself off, slut. I know you’re about to burst at the seams just from hearing your Mistress’s voice.”

Thankfully there was a knock at the door, even as Sandra’s hand automatically moved under her sundress to her wanton pussy, beginning to obey the order without thought.

Realizing what was happening, using all her will power to prevent herself following through, knowing how easily she could fall and be right back where she’d been all those years ago, a submissive slave to Mariah.

Sandra said, “Someone is at the door, I’ve got to go. Please don’t call me again.” Before Mariah could respond, Sandra hung up and took a deep breath, using her yoga breathing to calm herself after the stressful phone call.

A second knock at the door brought her back to reality and she went to answer it.

Opening the door, Sandra froze. There she was… Mariah herself, looking just like she had all those years ago. Her blonde hair straight, her blue eyes piercing and her smile disarming.

Sandra froze and Mariah spoke, her smile smug, “Thank you for hanging up on an old friend just to answer me at the door. Are you going to invite me in or what?”

Sandra stammered, shocked to her core as all her memories of the past flooded back like a never-ending tidal wave, “W-w-what are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your Mistress?” Mariah asked with a smile.

“Sssshhhh,” the rattled ex-sub whispered, “my daughter is upstairs.”

“Then you’d better be a good kitty and go fetch my things,” the blonde bombshell ordered, pointing to her car parked at the curb. She thought to herself, assessing the black-haired sub, ‘The slut looks just as cute and innocent as ever’.

“What? Why?” Sandra asked, praying she wasn’t planning on staying more than a minute or two.

“Taylor and I will be staying here for,” Mariah paused for dramatic effect, “well, indefinitely.”

“You can’t!” Sandra gasped, terrified at the thoughts of what Mariah might do… both to her and her daughter.

The Mistress’s bantering tone shifted in a heartbeat to one of menace. “Look, slut. Either you be a good sub and do as you’re told or I go up there, find your daughter and make her my slut this instant.”

Fear growing, as Mariah had never been one to bluff, Sandra panicked. “OK, OK, I’ll get your things.”

“Good girl,” the Mistress smiled warmly, realizing the domme-sub relationship from years ago was going to be easier to re-establish than she’d anticipated, her harshness gone as quickly as it had arrived. Mariah said, sweet as honey, “And you must be Kelly. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Sandra turned to see her daughter Kelly, in a t-shirt and short shorts walking away from the staircase and towards them. “Um, hi,” Kelly greeted the stranger politely, her expression curious.

Mariah introduced herself warmly, “Hi, I’m Mariah, your Mom’s old college roommate… I’ve just arrived from California down in the States, and your sweet Mom has offered to let my daughter and me stay here while we look for a place to live.”

“Well it’s great to meet you, ma’am,” Kelly smiled warmly like she always did, not mentioning the fact that her Mom hadn’t ever mentioned this roommate before, which was strange.

Her mother and she had an amazingly close mother-daughter relationship, so this lapse was totally out of character for her mom, not mentioning they were going to have house guests, or even mentioning the existence of this person.

“I’m delighted to meet you as well,” Mariah replied, giving Sandra a look that said ‘go get the bags’, as she pulled Kelly into a hug. Sandra sighed, not wanting to leave her daughter alone with such a predator, but fearing the consequences of disobeying Mariah.

Kelly was surprised to be getting a close hug from a big-busted stranger, but had been brought up to respect her elders and just went with it.

Outside, Sandra’s mouth dropped open when she saw a younger version of Mariah. Taylor was leaning against the car, dressed in a skimpy sundress that hid very little, that she must have known would have every guy in the world drooling over her and every gal calling her a slut.

Taylor looked up as Sandra approached the car. Putting the MILF in her place with her very first words, she assessed, “Well, you’re cuter than I thought you’d be, slut.”

Sandra gasped, shocked that this eighteen-year-old would be so disrespectful and forward. “Excuse me,” she objected with self-defensive affront.

Taylor smiled, looking her over, “I think I was pretty clear. I was just assessing the merchandise.”

Sandra ignored the teenager’s crudeness and went to get the bags, her worries about Mariah now doubled with Taylor in the picture.

‘Like Mother, Like Daughter,’ Mariah had remarked on the phone just minutes ago. Taylor appeared to be another example of that truism, which was terrifying. Sandra grabbed a couple of suitcases.

As Sandra began walking back to her house, Taylor asked, “I see Mommy already has you doing her bidding, slut?”

Sandra’s cheeks went red as she ignored the shot by the teenager. Back in her house, her daughter was unwrapping a present the size and shape of a garment box even as she protested, “You shouldn’t have.”

“You only get one eighteenth birthday,” Mariah smiled, befriending her future pet, while giving a quick glance to Sandra.

Sandra put the bags down and walked over to the couch to see what Mariah thought would be an appropriate present for her eighteen-year-old.

Kelly pulled out a gorgeous gold dress. “Oh my God, it’s beautiful,” she gasped excitedly, amazed to receive such a nice gown.

Mariah, her smile seemingly genuine to Kelly but fake as could be to the older and wiser Sandra, who knew (but still seemed to fall for) all her tricks, asked, “Isn’t prom soon?”

“Yes,” Kelly squealed, realizing the dress she’d purchased for the event was now superseded by a gown far more wonderful.

“Oh, but there’s more,” Mariah purred.

Kelly looked back in the box and dubiously pulled out a package of mocha thigh highs which surprised her. Pantyhose were so 1980s.

Mariah pointed out. “I know, I know, pantyhose are out, but my dear, stockings are so in. Trust me, the boys will be drooling.”

“Really?” Kelly asked innocently, unsure of the difference between stockings and pantyhose.

Sandra sighed to herself, recalling that Mariah’s fetish was stockings.Sandra flashed back:

For all four years of my humiliating sub life either I wore a garter belt and stockings, thigh high stockings, or crotchless pantyhose every day.

I licked Mariah’s feet while she was wearing stockings practically every day when we returned from school. Since breaking free from Mariah’s clutches, I hadn’t worn stockings of any sort. Not once!!!

Mariah looked down at Sandra’s legs, condemning her without a word before turning back to Kelly and explaining, “Trust me. Boys love stockings.”

“OK, Aunt Mariah,” Kelly replied, although she was skeptical.

Sandra gasped, “Aunt Mariah?”

Mariah gave her another silent look and Sandra scurried away to fetch the rest of the suitcases.

Mariah pointed out. “If you look at my legs in these dark brown, called mocha, stockings, the same as yours, you’ll notice my legs come alive in them.”

Kelly looked at the woman’s legs and had to agree the dark color really did seem to accentuate her legs. “They do look nice,” Kelly agreed.

“While if you check your Mom and her pale white legs, you can see they are less appealing. With a pair of stockings, even your mother’s skinny legs would have some color and come alive,” Mariah continued.

Kelly wondered if these new stockings would do the same for her.

As if reading the girl’s mind, Mariah offered, “Why don’t you try on the dress and stockings? You can see for yourself what stockings can do for you; plus, I want to make sure I got you the right size.”

“Sure,” Kelly agreed, excited to play dress up. Her mom was much more a jeans and t-shirt type, and thus Kelly had grown up wearing a similar style. For Kelly, this new look was like a Disney movie, an opportunity to play a princess. She was Cinderella and Mariah was her fairy Godmother.

Outside, Taylor had been awaiting Sandra’s return and she resumed her verbal assault on the MILF she knew would soon be hers. “So Sub-Sandra, are you happy to see your Mistress again, or are you delighted?”