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She was had. She had known a man. Shehad crossed the bridge, yet she was helpless to stop it. Sheneed feel no guilt. She had been ravished by a stranger. The great intrusive thing withdrew, leaving her empty. Wasthat all there is to it? No, the thing pounded into her, harderthan before, sending warning alarms through her nervous system,as her delicate inner membranes were stretched and rubbed. Againand again it plunged, stirring her insides, moving things around,pounding on her very womb, and rubbing her there, just below hermons where, so often, so unsuccessfully, she had used herhairbrush or her finger. But this was no finger. This was big. This thing knew whatit was doing, and her helpless body, filled, overcome, could donothing to resist. With each thrust, Gwenneth felt the effectspread, like a warm fluid infiltrating her pelvis, likeelectricity sparking in her tenderest spot. Wild associations ricocheted in her brain: the tingle whenshe climbed a tree,. ?* *I adjusted after we stopped the time-outs. There was nothing for a Sissyto think about. A Sissy just did what she was told. That applied tocleaning, and it applied to sex. I had been thinking too much. The keywas in the surrender.Did I not want to clean up the toilet? Didn?t matter. Did I want to giveJason a blow job? It didn?t matter. If Mistress instructed me, then Idid it.Jason and I were closer than ever. I regarded him as a superior, but noton the level of Miss Darcy. But when you?re a bottom-rung girl, what didit matter. You are a private, and you are surrounded by officers. Yousalute all the same.These days, Jason liked to peg me almost as he liked his blow jobs. Hewould spin me and enter me from the rear, because he could get deeperthat way. He would have me meet his tennis friends, and we would startlove-love, all five of us. I would do all of their cleaning, and all ofthem had access to me.It was a wonderful, innocent, sexual time. And I became a true sissy,not just one.
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