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  • Fulfilling the Prerequisites Ch. 04

Fulfilling the Prerequisites Ch. 04

12

Mokie arrived at the Circuit and Systems class about five minutes early. She was exhausted from the previous day's ordeals.

When Mokie awoke with the stilettos still locked to her feet, she barely made it to the bathroom, her legs ached so badly. Jenn called to her as Mokie was headed back to her bedroom.

"Yes, Mistress," Mokie replied, turning the corner into Jenn's room. If she was shocked to see Jenn on her back, legs spread, pulling her labia lips to open her pussy wide, she did not say anything.

"I need a wakey wakey, slut."

"Yes, Mistress," and remembering the requirement to show complete enthusiasm when serving her owners, Mokie dove into Jenn's cunt as though she was starving for love nectar. In moments, Jenn was moaning with ecstasy, her legs wrapped around her slave, her fists wrapped in Mokie's hair. In minutes, Jenn exploded into the earliest morning cum of her life, again splattering her juices all over Mokie's face.

So pleased was Jenn with her slave's performance, that she unhooked the key from Mokie's hoop, released the stilettos and ordered her slave to take a shower, prepare Jenn's breakfast, and to kneel in the kitchen and call when everything was ready...and to make sure this didn't take more than 30 minutes.

Mokie was still recovering from these early morning activities, when she rounded the corner and entered the classroom. Most of the students were already seated. Jason was sitting near the back and motioned her over.

"Looking sweet, slut," he said, louder than a whisper, which made her cringe. Fortunately, most of the early arrivals were chatting and Jason's comment was not likely to be heard. Nevertheless, she quickly looked around to check if anyone was staring in their direction.

Jenn insisted she wear a black, backless draped top, with a plunging neckline and chained pendent hanging between her breasts. She changed the dolphin in her navel to a stud with chain, wore cut off jean shorts, and her strappy lace-up black sandals. Compared to the stilettos, these heels were quite comfortable to Monique. Her hair was tied into a ponytail, the fuck-me hoops swinging free.

Jason handed her a thin lab notebook. "The moment the professor starts the lecture, not one second before or after, open the notebook to the first page." She just stared at him, wondering what insidious plan was in the works. "It looks like the same seat is available as Monday, so go sit there, and make sure you walk and behave provocatively, slave." She was dismissed with a wave of his hand.

As Professor Larson began to speak, Mokie opened the notebook. The first page was hot pink and entitled, From This Day Forward.

From this day forward...

1. You will instantly obey any command given to you by your master or mistress.

2. Upon returning to your apartment, you will go to www.slaveregister.com and use your slave number 635-269-589 and the password orgasm to enter the site. Complete all information in the profile, then print out your slave registration certificate in color and buy a frame to prominently display it in your bedroom. Memorize your slave number. If asked and you forget, it will be tattooed permanently on your body.

3. You will shave or otherwise remove the hair from any part of your body below the neck on a daily basis.

4. You will strip and remain naked whenever you are in your apartment.

5. You will come quickly to me and kneel before me whenever I enter your apartment. You will keep your eyes lowered, directed below my waist, when kneeling before me.

6. You will maintain good posture at all times, keeping your head up, your back straight, your shoulders back, thrusting your breasts up and forward, and your tummy in.

7. You will prepare and perform a sexually provocative erotic dance Thursday night.

8. You will keep a slave diary recording everything that you do and everything that I do to you, and your feelings, moods, and reactions. You will keep this diary available to me at all times. You will start it during class this morning immediately following your completion of the order below. You will begin the diary with the moment I called out your name the first day of class.

Within one minute of finishing reading, you will raise your hand and ask the professor to repeat something or clarify something he has just said. While he responds, you will smile and at one point, brush back your hair provocatively to expose your fuck-me hoops.

When class ends, rush to the exit, stopping for no one, and meet me at the tables next to the Student Union, where we will read your diary together.

The horrifying note was at an end.

--------

Sitting next to her, in the same chair as Monday, you notice she has not been paying attention during the opening moments, instead reading something on hot pink paper. She seemed to be agitated, her mouth agape. You wonder what the note said.

In the past 48 hours, you have built up some nerve. Opportunities do not often fall in your lap and if you believe in destiny, this many times seated nearby one of the hottest girls on campus had to be karma.

Since Monday, you had asked around. It turned out many knew Mokie, the biggest tease on campus. Both cute and sexy, she had nearly every guy yearning for her. It was said that if you could get her drunk, you could get into her pants fairly easy. And so your fantasies continued to build.

Sitting too close to the front to risk speaking, you quickly scribble a note asking if she is ok, and slide it onto her desk. Her reaction is unexpected, her eyes wide with surprise, she stares at you as though you passed acidic lab paper in her direction.

She seems to calm and takes your note and clearly seems relieved. She looks directly at you, smiles briefly, and nods that she is ok. You are surprised to see a little pink stud on her tongue which you are sure was not there on Monday. She got her tongue pierced!

Immediately she turns her attention to Larson, listens keenly for a few moments, and then raises her hand.

You are surprised, because discussion is not part of Larson's style. You wonder what she will say.

"Excuse me, Professor, but would you please repeat that?" She fingers her large hoops, acting the airhead. She might as well be chewing cum like a cud.

You are thinking something is more than odd. The prof has merely been pontificating about some historical aspect of circuits, hardly profound, and yet Ms. Sexi asks for a repetition.

Expecting Larson to make a sarcastic reply, you are surprised when he asks for clarification about what she wishes repeated, and after a vague response, restates the history. He then asks her name, and she says, "Monique." He asks if his response was satisfactory and she replies, "Yes, Sir." Was this a ploy to be noticed and garner the professor's attention? If so, it worked.

"Oh, yes, thank you, Sir," again twirling her hoop. Strange goings-on, you think.

The rest of the lecture is boring as hell, and often you sneak a peek in her direction. She never looks your way, always writing in her notebook, page after page. This also makes no sense. You have written three words on your notepad and she is onto her fifth or sixth page. Is she writing a letter? Then why pretend she cares about the professor's lecture?

With about 15 minutes left in class, you hear her sniffle. There is no question she is quietly weeping, two big tear drops on her paper, the ink running.

You reach in your pack for a packet of Kleenex and unobtrusively slide it over to her. She does not look up, does not express appreciation, but takes a Kleenex to dab her eyes and the tears on the page.

She may be sexy as all hell, but she is suffering, and your heart aches for her. This is your chance to connect on an emotional level.

But you have no chance. The moment Larson stops speaking, she is out of her seat, moving away from you, up the aisle and out the door. She leaves the packet of tissues behind, and does not even give you a glance. By the time you gather your things and pursue, she is long gone.

.....

323-323343. Like a mantra, the numbers of the hooker stormed back into Mokie's mind. Despite all she was going through, the gaze of that hooker had stuck with her. She was haunted by it, but not in fear. It was almost comforting, knowing that a woman could be dominated and yet still be confident and proud.

Confident and proud -- the way she used to be. She had met with Jason at the Student Union to read her diary together, which had stripped more and more of her self-esteem away. She was under his control and she could see no way out. Was it possible to be under his domination and yet still be the Mokie of last week?

She picked up her cell phone and dialed the numbers, impulsively, not even knowing what she would say if she answered.

"Hello?" a smoldering voice answered.

"Um....hello," Mokie stuttered.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"This is the girl from the shop yesterday, the bondage model. You gave me your number."

"Oh, I see. I'm glad you remembered my number."

Silence. Uncomfortable silence. "I, um...I need your help," answered Mokie, surprising even herself.

"Oh yeah? Help with what?"

"I am..." she paused, not sure what to say. "I am having trouble accepting my role as a slave. You seemed so comfortable with it yesterday, I was hoping you could offer me some advice."

"Well, sorry, sweetie, I am not a hotline. If you want me to help, let me meet you somewhere. I can only teach you to enjoy slavery if you let me enslave you."

Mokie started juicing at the thought of this sexy woman having her way with her.

"OK," she said.

"OK. Where and when can I meet you?"

Mokie rushed to the refrigerator, where her and Jenn's schedules were hanging side-by-side. She inspected Jenn's, then answered, "It looks like I will be alone here for the next two hours. Can you be here that soon?"

"What is your address?" answered the hooker.

Mokie answered accurately.

"Do you have all of the toys your master bought you at Leather 'N Love?"

"No, he has them all."

"Alright, I have some stuff I can bring. Leave your front door unlocked, strip and kneel on the floor in front of it, back turned, and lay your chest on the ground, ass in the air. I will be there in less than twenty minutes." She hung up.

Mokie obeyed.

.....

She had been exposing herself to the doorway for 15 minutes, her mind racing before her mysterious domme arrived. She had envisioned any number of people walking through the door, accidentally, stumbling upon her in this horrid position.

Any random student could have tripped and fallen into her apartment, and what would they have thought to find her like this? Jenn could have returned, skipping a class to spend the late morning with her slave. This was not part of her command, so what would she do if she were to learn of Mokie's betrayal? What if Jason came in for any reason at all?

Her imagination got the best of her at times, and she considered standing and then hurling herself into this position when she heard the hooker coming. But she stayed, prostrating to the door, getting moist at the idea of how she might be punished should she be found by the wrong person.

When she realized this, she scolded herself. But perhaps, she thought, this was the intention of the hooker.

Before she could think any further, the door swung open. She heard stiletto footsteps enter and approach her as the door closed.

"Very good, slave," said the voice.

She stepped over her, a foot on either side facing her head. She bent down with a leather hood and pulled it over Mokie's face.

"I do not want, nor do I need to know, what you look like. Keep this on whenever I am around."

She pulled it on and fastened it with a zipper that ran from the top of her forehead to the back of her neck. It was identical to the one she was wearing yesterday.

"Your master used a term 'attention' yesterday," she began. "Get in that position now."

Mokie pulled herself to her feet, spread her legs and locked her hands behind her head. Looking through the slit in her hood, she saw her dominatrix and instantly felt a rush of lubrication in her pussy.

Her mistress unzipped the slit covering her mouth and addressed her.

"First things first," she began. "I don't know what you think you know about me, but most of society sees me as a successful business woman. In my private life, I engage in all kinds of BDSM activity. I can't get off without it.

"A few years ago, my boyfriend and I started experimenting, and I hated it at first. But I realized it was because I was too proud. Once I learned to give in completely, I experienced the most mind-blowing orgasms of my life. Would you like me to help you achieve the same?"

Mokie nodded.

"How much time do we have?"

"One hour, mistress."

"What happens after one hour?"

"My roommate comes home."

"And does your roommate know about your secret life?"

"Yes, mistress. She and Jason are my mistress and master."

"I see. No time to waste. Open wide."

Mokie opened her mouth and her mistress pushed an inverted dildo plug through the slit in her mask and into her mouth. Locked in place, it penetrated her mouth only a couple inches, but it extended in front of her face by half a foot.

"This is my favorite accessory," said the hooker, admiring her work. She grabbed Mokie's cell phone from the table top and strolled over to the bedroom. "Follow me," she ordered.

Mokie shuffled towards her room, her eyes peering through the slit towards the floor, being careful not to trip. When she got to the threshold, she saw her mistress holding up a pair of leather panties.

"Step into these. I will help you," she said. She sat on the edge of the bed and lowered the panties to the floor.

This was an unexpected turn for Mokie, who had, through all of her submissive behavior, been made to expose herself. Skeptically, she stepped into the holes and allowed her mistress to pull them up past her knees.

She left them just below her pussy, lifted the cell phone from the bed and brought it to Mokie's already dripping pussy lips. She slid it up and down the slit a couple times before wedging it inside. A quick second later the panties were pulled up, locking the cell phone in place.

Now her mistress hiked up her skirt and lay back on the bed, spreading her legs.

"Get that dildo in my pussy and start fucking me, pet."

Mokie climbed on the bed and worked her way to her hands and knees, staring through her mesh slit towards the tip of the dildo extending from her lips. It took a few seconds to coordinate herself, trying to line the tip up with her mistress's hole.

Growing impatient, her mistress grabbed the head of the dildo and guided it into her pussy, pulling Mokie's head with it.

"Back and forth, slave. Let's go."

Mokie rested her elbows on the mattress to improve her angle of entry, then slowly glided her back parallel to the bed, rocking on her knees. Her mistress put her hand on the back of her head to prevent her from backing too far out of her pussy.

"That's it, baby. Oooooooohhhh," she moaned. "Work that pussy."

This was not nearly as bad to Mokie as having to eat Jenn's pussy and ass. Her lips did not have to come in contact directly, and there was a layer of leather helping mute the smell. The absence of these deterrents enabled Mokie to start getting into it herself. She felt her juices running over her iPhone and puddling in her panties.

Her mistress was propping herself up on her left hand and holding Mokie's head with her right. "Ohhhhh, yes!" she screamed, beginning to thrust her hips off the bed towards Mokie's face.

"You ready, baby?" she asked.

Mokie let out an indecipherable moan as her mistress released her head. From under her pillow, she grabbed her cell phone and called Mokie's number.

Mokie was shocked as the phone in her pussy started to vibrate.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed as the vibrations stimulated her pussy She began sliding back and forth faster, her excitement building. Her mistress was close to cumming.

Her mistress hung up and the vibrations stopped, leaving Mokie whimpering in near-ecstasy. She slid her phone along the sheets and into Mokie's right hand.

"If you want to cum, just press this button," she said, guiding Mokie's thumb to the call button. She returned her hand to Mokie's head and pulled her deeper.

Mokie was so close, and she did not want to back off now. She instantly pressed the call button and in a second her phone was slithering around in her juicy pussy.

Her mistress thrust up and down on the dildo, trying to time her orgasm with Mokie's. She succeeded.

The two of them climaxed with monumental orgasms. Mokie's head was pulled as far as it could go inside her mistress, while her hips collapsed on the bed, her legs squeezing tightly, hoping to work out every last drip of cum she had to spare.

Her mistress fell back on her bed, her sweat staining the sheets where Jenn's juices had dried the night before. All Mokie could smell was sex. Through the slit, her eyes watched her mistress slide back and off the dildo, and she lay in wait for further instruction.

"Let's go, honey. Back into the living room," her mistress ordered.

Mokie was still slowing her breath as she rolled off the bed and walked back into the living room.

"Lie face down on the floor."

She did as she was told. In less than a minute, her mistress had strapped leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles, each with a few inches of chain attached. Her mistress pulled her left arm behind her back and bent her left knee so that her left foot rose towards her hand. She secured each length of chain together with a small padlock, and then did the same to her right arm and leg.

The length of chain enabled Mokie to hold this position without having to crane her back too much, but it was still uncomfortable. Her mistress unzipped the mask just enough for her to pull a good length of hair out. She tied her hair with a short length of cord and pulled, forcing Mokie's to arch her neck.

She tied the other end of the cord through the padlock connecting her right foot and wrist, leaving Mokie's neck painfully twisted backwards. She got down on her knees and spoke into Mokie's ear.

"If you want to enjoy this, just give up your pride. It's as simple and as difficult as that."

She got up and started packing her things, to Mokie's surprise. She wondered if an hour had elapsed already. She did her best to scan the room for a clock, but her movement and sight were extremely limited.

"If you want to call me again, please call me Brandi. I do not usually infringe on other people's property, so I leave you now to your real master and mistress."

Mokie panicked, realizing that Brandi was going to leave her like this. She tried to voice a protest, but gagged as she was, it sounded no differently from her orgasmic screams.

She heard the door open and close, and all was still. In the quiet of the room, her arousal diminished, and she became increasingly aware of the rigid phone in her pussy.

In the hall, Brandi scribbled a brief note:

"Call me, Mistress." Mokie

She snickered as she folded it, taped the key to the padlocks on it, and taped them both near the top of the door.

.....

Ten minutes later, Jenn came to the door. As she prepared to insert her key, she noticed the note taped to the door. Inquisitively, she pulled it down and unfolded it.

"Call me?" she said aloud to no one in particular. She was thoroughly confused. She removed the key from the paper and went inside.

The sounds of Mokie struggling on the floor grabbed her attention a split second before she saw her lying there, her arms wrenched behind her back and her head secured in place. Jenn could tell immediately that she had been put in this situation. It was too complex to tie herself up like this.

12
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