The New Fiancée, Part One by N.T. Morley

Meredith got home from work around midnight and discovered the beautiful woman sitting in the living room.

It took her a moment to register her surprise, especially given the casual comfort with which the woman sat on the couch sipping a glass of red wine. The woman, a strikingly tall and quite breathtaking ivory-skinned brunette, was very dressed up — much like Meredith herself — as if she were about to spend the night at the opera, or had just finished doing so. The woman’s dress, floor-length and black, was slit on both sides almost up to her hips, revealing the full length of the woman’s shapely legs. The dress was also low-cut and showed that the woman had quite ample endowments, quite perfect. Perhaps in her mid-thirties, the woman was strikingly beautiful, her jet-black hair and pale skin accenting her rather Nordic features.

“Hello,” she said nervously.

“You must be Meredith,” said the woman, without getting up. She looked Meredith over, quite blatantly, not even trying to disguise the up-and-down motion of her eyes that focused first on Meredith’s face, then slid down her body, then slowly stroked upward to rest on the single slit in Meredith’s dress — not quite as high as that in the strange woman’s dress, but more than revealing enough to show what shapely legs the girl had — then continued up to take in the slight swell of Meredith’s bust, as if exploring the way her satin dress revealed those small but perfect orbs. Meredith felt her face getting hot as the woman’s eyes lingered over her breasts, then slowly rose to meet Meredith’s gaze, fixing her with a hungry stare.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said the woman.

“Ah, Meredith,” said Phillip, appearing from the kitchen with a Scotch in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He topped off the woman’s drink and sat down opposite her on the big white armchair, propping his feet on the coffee table quite indelicately and taking a sip of his Scotch.

“You remember me telling you about Yvanna, my ex-wife?”

Meredith gave a shiver.

“Please, Phillip, former wife. Ex-wife sounds so unfriendly.”

“We’re anything but that, my dear,” said Phillip with a lustful glance at Yvanna. He then looked at Meredith with the kind of lascivious sense of ownership he always gave her when he knew he would soon prove just how profoundly he had his new fiancée under his control.

“With our wedding date set, I figured it was time for you and Yvanna to get… acquainted.”

Again, Meredith shivered. She saw Yvanna’s eyes flickering over her once more with the immodest gaze of the heartless seducer suddenly set loose up on an ingenue, and knew immediately what was to be expected of her.

As if to assert her independence, Meredith’s eyes flickered quickly over Yvanna’s, attempting to display the same kind of unrepentant randiness that the self-composed woman showed toward her. She could see the sensuous curves under the older woman’s opera dress, could even see the firmness of her full breasts capped by hard nipples tenting the thin fabric of the black dress. Meredith let her eyes caress those perfect tits, knowing that within moments she would be called upon to touch them, kiss them, perhaps even suck them, before being bidden to travel further into depravity and perform services foreign to her. She knew she would be expected to touch the woman lower down, between the slits of that dress and, without a doubt, underneath the dress itself. That, she could not even comprehend; her head spun at the very thought of it. It was all Meredith could do to look at the woman’s breasts and know she would soon be touching them. But those bright green eyes of hers did not linger on Yvanna’s ample tits; on the contrary, unable to keep up her facade of self-confidence, Meredith let her eyes drift upward to Yvanna’s piercing, frosty blue orbs. With the gaze that met her there, Meredith whimpered softly and dropped her eyes submissively.

She could feel her nipples hardening under her dress, standing out plainly through the thin satin, as if advertising to the woman the effect she was having on Meredith.

“That’s a very nice dress,” said Yvanna with a smile, her eyes lingering on Meredith’s chest. “I hear you’re a hostess at a very chichi restaurant. I’m surprised they let you even wear dress like that. Much less without a bra.”

Meredith wanted very badly to cross her arms in front of her. Her arms even twitched involuntarily, as if seeking a chance to cover the poor girl’s embarrassment. But Meredith did not let herself hide her breasts from Yvanna’s devouring gaze. Phillip had long since forbidden her that privilege. Instead, she stood there, her nipples hardening even more under Yvanna’s stare, a quiver starting deep in her body as she nervously answered.

“Th — thank you, Ma’am. The… the owner says it helps bring the customers in.”

“The owner? Is he the one who told you it was all right to wear that dress without a bra?”

Meredith’s face grew hotter as she blushed uncontrollably.

“Yes, Ma’am, but that’s not why I wear it that way,” said Meredith. “My Master told me to wear it this way.”

“Phillip, you dog. You’re just like you always were. If anything, you’re worse. Remember when you sent me to court wearing that see-through dress?”

“I remember,” said Phillip.

“And no bra or panties at all,” Yvanna sighed, remembering. “I thought the judge was going to charge me with contempt. Luckily, he was a man of liberal tastes. Just a few moments alone in his chambers and I was back in the court’s favors.”

“You never told me that,” Phillip snapped.

“Mmmm, didn’t I?” smiled Yvanna. “Yes, it was a striking example of judicial corruption, and quite a lot of fun. Lucky for me it’s too late for you to punish me.” Turning back to Meredith, Yvanna smiled and said “Phillip used to send me all sorts of places without panties.” She paused and smiled broadly at Meredith. “You are wearing panties, aren’t you, dear?”

“Y — yes, Ma’am,” said Meredith. “Just — just a thong.”

“A thong. Let me see, dear.”

Meredith’s eyes went to her Master, whether to check if it was all right or to beg not to do it. Phillip didn’t notice or care.

“My ex-wife and I are very close, darling. Show her your panties.”

Meredith began to lift her dress, nervously feeling the satin bunch in her grasp. She brought the dress up to her waist, revealing her miniscule white lace thong, which barely covered her pussy and showed quite clearly that it was shaved smooth. The crotch of the garment was so small that Meredith’s full pussy lips, now unaccountably swollen, squeezed around the sides, revealing the piercings Phillip had placed there.

“Come here, darling. Let me have a closer look.”

Meredith nervously walked to Yvanna’s side, and with a glance at Phillip, knew what was expected.

Meredith lifted her foot and placed her high-heeled shoe on the coffee table, leaving her legs spread.

“My, my,” Yvanna said, reaching out to stroke the moist crotch of the thong. Meredith stifled a whimper as Yvanna touched her. “Such pretty things you buy your slaves nowadays, Phillip. And such pretty jewelry.” Yvanna’s long, slender fingers slid under the crotch of the thong and teased Meredith’s pierced lips apart. Meredith gasped and let out a long, low moan as Yvanna slid two fingers into her. Meredith struggled to remain standing, knowing that to fail to do so would bring punishment. Perhaps a spanking, or worse.

Meredith could not bear the thought of being punished in front of her Master’s ex-wife.

“She’s soaking, darling. She’s positively gushing. She’s your own little blonde tsunami. Phillip, is she more of an exhibitionist than I was? Does showing her tits off all night turn your little slave on this much?”

“I don’t know,” chuckled Phillip. “Ask her.”

Yvanna’s eyes locked in Meredith’s, and the older woman’s two fingers slid deeper in, her thumb teasing the swollen nub of Meredith’s pierced clitoris. Meredith let out a faint whine and bit her red-painted lip as she tried to stay standing.

“Does it, Meredith? Does it turn you on to show the customers your tits?”

Yvanna’s thumb pressed firmly on Meredith’s ringed clit, and Meredith bit her lip so hard that for a moment she thought she might have drawn blood.

She took a deep breath and managed to speak.

“Yes, Ma’am. It does turn me on. But that’s not why I’m wet.”

“Then why are you wet, darling?”

Meredith had had the best intentions of confessing it, knowing that no show of coyness would get her out of the evening’s expected services. But now, she found her throat closing with embarrassment. Her face turned deep red, suddenly so hot that she felt she might pass out.

Yvanna chuckled.

“I know why you’re wet, dear,” said Yvanna. “It’s because you know I’m going to fuck you. And you’ve never been with a woman before.”

Meredith whimpered as Yvanna’s fingers slid in and out of her cunt. It was the first time she’d ever been touched like that by a woman — the first time a woman had touched her there at all.

“Y — yes, Ma’am,” said Meredith breathlessly.

Yvanna’s hand came out of Meredith’s cunt, and the younger woman let go of her dress, feeling the satin snake its way down her legs as Yvanna reached up to touch Meredith’s face. Taller than Meredith by six or eight inches, Yvanna found it easy to reach Meredith’s mouth with her fingers — but Meredith, well trained, still leaned down to make it easier on her. Meredith obediently parted her lips and accepted Yvanna’s slick fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. She had done it so many times — been trained to do it — that it was second nature to her. But the taste of her cunt had always come to her ripe and fresh via Phillip’s body — his fingers, his tongue, even his cock.

Never on a woman’s fingers. But Meredith licked, hungrily, the taste of her own pussy sending tingles of electricity down into her body.

Yvanna’s fingers came out of Meredith’s suckling mouth glistening with spittle.

“There’s no point in being a flirt about it, then,” said Yvanna, her voice suddenly filled with command. “Take off your dress.”

Meredith began to turn toward Phillip, but stopped when Yvanna’s harsh voice snapped “Meredith!” Meredith turned back to Yvanna, shocked, and the brunette’s cold eyes froze Meredith to the bone.

“You’ve been given to me,” she said. “If Phillip wants to stop me, he will. For now, you do exactly what I tell you to do. And don’t look to him for advice.”

“Y — yes, Ma’am,” Meredith whimpered.

“Now take off your dress before I take it off for you,” said Yvanna.

Meredith felt a little quiver go through her at the harsh sound in Yvanna’s voice. She had heard that same harshness many times in the voice of her Master, and it never failed to make her desperate to please him.

Meredith took her foot off the coffee table and turned more fully to face Yvanna.

Meredith’s hands quivered as she reached up to the left strap of her dress and gently eased it over her shoulder. So insubstantial was the dress that one side of it immediately fell away, revealing Meredith’s bare left breast with its firm, pink nipple plainly erect from arousal. Hesitating only slightly, Meredith eased the other strap off her shoulder, and the dress went sliding down to her waist, revealing both small but perfect breasts..

Continued: The New Fiancée, Part Two (

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N.T. Morley is the editor of Master/Slave and author of more than 20 published and forthcoming novels of erotic dominance and submission, including The Castle, The Tower, The Limousine, The Parlour, The Nightclub, The Circle and The Office. Morley’s writing has also appeared in the Naughty Stories series and the Sweet Life series.