Date: Thu, 5 Oct 2006 04:47:00 -0700 From: bahee Subject: Brianne A-new-year Several readers have asked - this is not an autobiography but a fictionalized account taken from my own journals. All the events are true, they happened. Maybe not quite in the way or order described, but they happened. Bahee All too soon it was Labour Day and school was back in session. Sam and I were still going to school together but it was a new school this year. What a difference. We were still in the public school system but we were attending an "alternate school". I wasn't sure what that meant but soon found out. Some things were obvious. There were the Goths, the ones into heavy piercings, the tattoos. There were gays and lesbians and even a few straights. The great thing was that everyone could be themselves, not matter what that "self" was. Even the geeks could be geeks. It wasn't all peaches and cream. There were all the normal adolescent growing pains; the strain of making new friends; the forming of relationships; the jealousies; but on the whole school was basically now a happy, accepting place. By the end of the first month I found myself a member of a group of girls that accepted me as one of themselves. They all knew I was a TV - I was even learning the jargon. Their tolerance, acceptance of me was helping me to be accepting. At the beginning of the summer at the time of the first "outing" I was very anti anything that could be remotely considered "male". Jeans were out, I wanted to wear nothing but dresses and skirts. Even the shorts I lusted over did not get much wear. But as my new friends were teaching me, jeans could be very feminine and could be comfortable. At home even Jen was accepting the fact that she now had a sister, she even seemed to be enjoying the situation. He early days of summer had been very tense for both of us. There had been periods of coolness but by now we were getting close again. Jen was able to tell me of her early feelings of betrayal when I first came out. Now she was enjoying the role of elder sister teaching me to appreciate the latest fashions, how to apply my make-up, even boy-talk. Sex was, and still is, a source of confusion. I was convinced that I was a girl. I enjoyed talking about boys with my new girl friends. Like them I lusted after the hot ones at school. I loved fucking with Sam. She was also living full time as a girl, but she still found time to slip her clit into my cunt just about every day. I still had a cock between my legs. I might call it my clitty but at times it was still a cock and I liked to stroke it, to make it spurt, to put it into Sam's cunt and fuck her. Was I gay? I drooled over the school hot boys. I dreamed about going to bed with them, of being their girl. Was I lesbian? I was a girl but found myself attracted to other girls. I wanted to be with them, to kiss and cuddle, to go to bed with them. Even today, several years on, the questions have not all been answered, the feelings resolved. My relationship with Sam changed as the term progressed. Grade 12s don't really have a lot in common with grade10s. We were not exactly growing apart. We were each making friends in our own grades. In many ways the only thing we had in common was our need for sex. Although I enjoyed fucking Sam I was much more interested in being fucked. I dreamed of the day when I would have a boy friend. Someone who would fuck me 10 times a day and then again at night. I fantasized about the boy's locker room after a basketball game. Going there in a cheer leaders uniform. Sucking off each member of the team. Being fucked by each one of them. To have their cum dripping out of my mouth, out of my cunt. It never happened but reading my journal entries today brings it all back and the longing is still as strong as ever. My relationship with Sue was growing. We watched several videos that her clients had made. I found some of the things the clients wanted to be weird, even gross, but some of the sessions were real turn-ons. As Sue explained, and I came to understand, why they wanted the things they did I saw even the grossest requests in a different light. The activities were not something that would give me any pleasure but they helped the client and, as Sue said, they paid well. During the fall I found myself visiting Sue two or three times a week, often when Sam was not around. I just wanted to be with her, be around her. I wanted to do things for her. I pottered around the kitchen, putting things away, washing up each dish or cup as it was used. Looking back on those days I was acting like a little puppy. One evening Sue showed a video, not of a session, of a guy dressed as a maid working around a house. He was not very good at his job and everytime he did something wrong he was punished with a good spanking. I found myself being turned on by the whole scene. My clitty was getting hard. "You enjoyed that one, didn't you?" "Yeah, it was pretty cool. He sure didn't learn very quickly." "Do you think you'd have done a better job?" "Oh yeah, I could have done all that without any spankings. She would not have found anything wrong with my work. I could be the perfect maid." "You think so, do you? I see you've been doing lots of little things around here. Would you like to try out as my maid and learn how to do things properly?" I swear my heart skipped more than a few beats. "Do you really mean that? Do you mean I could be your maid, just like in the videos?" "That would be the general idea.' "Could I wear a uniform, just like he did." I could harldy contain my excitement. My clitty was as hard a rock. My arse was twitching at the thought of Sue giving me a spanking. I could hardly sit still. "Look here, my dear, this would not be a game. I'm serious and you would have to be too. There would be rules for you to follow and there would be real punishment if you broke them. Spankings and other punishments would not be play things, they would really hurt. You'd have to do exactly as you were told, no ifs ands or buts. The only thing is you'd not have anything to do with downstairs. Do you think you can do it?" "No sweat. It'll be real cool. When do we start?" "I want you to think this over very carefully and make sure you really want to do it. To give you some help, I notice the kitchen counter is untidy. My maid would not let that happen. You will be punished. Stand up and take your jeans off." As I stood up Sue also got up and left the room. By the time I had my jeans off she returned with a paddle. "God, what a miserable looking specimen. That's no way to wait for your mistress. Feet apart, wide apart. Hands behind your neck. Come on, snap to it." This was a very different Sue to the one I had been used to. Many was the time I had been naked around Sue, just doing normal everyday things. She had seen me with and without an erection. She had seen me fucking with Sam. Apart from my first one or two visits I had become completely comfortable around Sue no matter what my state of dress or undress, but now, standing in the middle of the room, feet wide apart, hands behind my neck dressed in a pair of panties and a crop top, I felt embarrassed, exposed, completely vulnerable in a way I never had before. I felt like the naughty little girl that I was. I was scared of the punishment that I knew was coming yet wanting it. Sue took a cushion and laid it on the edge of the kitchen table. "Come here." I walked over to the kitchen. "Hold out your hands." She opened a drawer and took out a couple of wrist cuffs. I had seen enough videos by now to know what they were for. "Lean over the table. Come on, flat on your tummy. Stretch out your arms." Some rope from the same drawer and I was quickly tied, stretched out, to the table. I felt Sue behind me. A hand was caressing my bum. Round and round. First one cheek and then the other. A finger was stroking my crack. Then smack, smack. Two smart swats, one on each cheek. Jesus that stung. Then the gentle stroking was back. Whew that was better. Whack, another swat. Some stroking. Then whack, whack, whack. This was really beginning to hurt. I could not stop myself. "Ouch, that fucking hurts." "Punishment is supposed to hurt, and count on a couple of extras for swearing. We've not even started yet." Sue hooked her fingers into my panties and pulled them down to my knees. "Hmmm. Not bad, even if I say so myself. A pretty shade of pink, but I think you need a good red arse before you go home tonight." There was a swish and a crack. I screamed. That was no hand. That hurt. "Your punishment tonight is six of those. After each one you will say out loud the number, you will say `thank you miss Sue, may I have one more'. If you get the count wrong or the words wrong we will start over. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Yes what?" "Yes miss Sue." "Good. We'll start now. Are you ready?" "Yes miss Sue." I'm not going to yell, I'm not going to scream, I'm not going to cry. It's a game. She won't hurt me that badly. I can take it. Swish, whack. Jesus christ. Every breath left my body. "And?" I remembered. "One. Thank you miss Sue. May I have another?" But not like that one I nearly said out loud. Crack, my other cheek was burning. My eyes were watering. I was not going to give in. As I caught my breath, "two. Thank you miss Sue. May I have another?" Three and I was yelling and crying quietly, sort of. Four and it fucking hurt like hell, I was yelling and crying out loud. Five and I was pleading now. No more please. Six and it was all over at last. "Well, if you really insist." God she conned me. Number seven was the worst. "Now for swearing, two more. I do not like foul mouthed little girls, especially if they are going to be my maid. I hope never to hear you swear again." Two more swats. I thought I was going to die. No pretence now. I yelled, I cried as I had never cried before in my life. Sue untied my hands. She helped me to stand up. My legs were shaking, I could hardly stand. She hugged me close. I clung to her, burying my head into her neck. Gradually I calmed down. "OK, get dressed. Go and wash your face and come back here." I did as I was told. In the bathroom I took a look at my arse in the mirror. It was red, hot and sore. My make-up was a mess. I washed most of it off. Pulling on my jeans was painful - why hadn't I worn a skirt or dress tonight. I went back to the living room. "How are you feeling?" "Pretty goddam sore." "You're not a very fast learner, are you? What happened the last time you swore in front of me?" "I'm sorry." "Well, I'm going to ignore it this time, but it really is the last time. No more swearing. Now, you're going to have a sore bum for a few days, which will remind you of tonight. If you become my maid then you can expect such things to happen pretty regularly. I want you think very seriously about this for the next couple of days. You are to come back here at 6 o'clock on Friday evening and not before. At that time you can give me your decision. Will you be alright going home, or do you want me to walk you home?" "I'll be fine, but really I know what ...." "No, this is not the time. No more talking tonight. Go. Come back on Friday."