A Matter of Class PT3
By: sfmaster - Published: 14th July, 2017
WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state, nation, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
“A Matter of Class PT3”
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“A Matter of Class PT3” by mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org
One day, Allison had promised to meet with two of her girlfriends in New York City to explore some fashion boutiques. After visiting the Prada and Max Mara stores, she feigned a headache, declined dinner, and said that she was going home to Greenwich.
Instead, she retrieved her car from the parking garage and drove downtown, a particular address burning a hole in her pocketbook.
While websurfing on her computer she had located a group of fetish shops in NYC, and she thought that they might be more exciting to visit than just couture shops – which she had promised Mistress Stephanie that she wouldn’t be buying from anyway!
She found a parking garage in the neighborhood and parked the car, then proceeded to walk. It was a nice bright sunny day in Manhattan, perfect for shopping. Allison wasn’t sure what the store would contain, or what she might purchase – but it would certainly be different that just normal clothing!
Locating one of the shops behind a metal railing, she had to press a buzzer to get in – and the first thing she noted when she was inside was the overpowering scent of PVC and rubber! Her knees suddenly went weak, and she was afraid that her panties were already wet with excitement.
“Can I help you?” asked the rail thin man behind the counter, dressed in black.
“This is my first time here. I’m just going to look around,” Allison replied.
“Since this is your first time, ask me if you want to try on anything.”
“Sure,” Allison answered.
She walked in the aisles of the tightly packed store, marveling at seeing the actual garments that she had seen in porn films. Collars; bracelets; riding crops; paddles; it was obvious where Mistress Stephanie had equipped her Dungeon.
Allison removed a shiny black PVC Catsuit from the rack, and found that it was her size. She wondered how she was going to look wearing it!
“Dressing room is in the back,” said the man.
Glad that she was the only customer in the store, Allison walked into the back and closed the curtain. She quickly removed her modest heels, blouse, and skirt. She opened all the zippers in the Catsuit, stepped into it, and pulled up the main zipper up the front of her body. She next closed the sleeves and ankles, and then admired herself in the full length mirror.
“Wow!” Allison said aloud to herself.
The PVC Catsuit covered every part of her figure, yet clung to her like a second skin. She put on her heels, and pulled the curtain back, wanting to see herself in the three mirrors outside. She posed in front of the mirrors, admiring herself.
“Do you like it?” the clerk asked.
“Yes, very much.”
“We have one sleeveless as well, want to try it?”
The sleeveless Catsuit was equally flattering to her figure, and Allison decided to buy them both! Stephanie had told her that she was forbidden to buy expensive couture clothing, but the Dominatrix had said nothing about buying fetish wear!
Still wearing the second Catsuit, Allison continued to peruse the store’s stock, and also purchased a flogger (one with broad leather strands); a riding crop; a paddle, a dildo harness (just like the one that Mistress Stephanie had); handcuffs and leg shackles; some shoes; boots; and two gags.
After the clerk had packed and rung up her hefty purchase, Allison paid by credit card, and didn’t even flinch at the final amount.
“Would you like me to call a cab?” The clerk asked.
“No thank you, my car is just around the corner,” Allison answered as she struggled with her purchases exiting the shop.
Once she had retrieved the Toyota (glad that she had left the Jaguar home) Allison imagined all of the fun that she was going to have! Now that she had bought toys to entertain herself!
Allison stood in front of her mirror, wearing the sleeveless PVC Catsuit, matching knee high boots, and she held the riding crop in hand, bending it with her fingers. She imagined that she was a Mistress about to discipline an unruly female slave, and after striping her flesh, would take the girl to bed and show her both pleasure and pain!
‘Mistress Stephanie has trained me well,’ Allison thought to herself, ‘I can’t seem to think of anything else but her lovely PVC clad body, her crop, and her breasts and pussy.’
Allison could not believe how much influence the Mistress had over her, but everything had been for the good! The annoying paparazzi were long gone, chasing after some other celebrity. That had allowed her the freedom to go to the Fetish Shop – and nearly buy out the store! She no longer drank to excess either – Stephanie kept her busy reading one book after another every week. If she didn’t do her “homework” the penalties were severe – a paddled bottom so bad that she couldn’t sit down for days! Or worse!
Mistress Stephanie had certainly given her some “discipline” in life, thought Allison. She was no longer the wild partying drunken heiress wasting her life away. Now she was a secretive submissive obeying the commands of her Mistress – and enjoying herself completely.
Allison then removed the boots and catsuit, storing them carefully in her closet. She then collared and braceleted herself, and locked the heels on her feet that Stephanie had given her. She picked up the flogger, enjoying the feeling of the leather strands on her fingers.
Standing naked in front of the bedroom mirror, she raised her left arm, and then used the flogger with her right arm, the strands impacting on her back.
“Now that feels good!” Allison said to herself.
She did it again, and then again, flogging herself in front of the mirror, imagining that she was naked and chained in Stephanie’s Dungeon being flogged.
Allison then began to flog herself with her left hand on a different part of her back. She tried to strike herself as hard as she could – she wanted to feel the sting of leather on her flesh!
“Who else has been flogging you?” Stephanie demanded coolly, and with little emotion.
Allison was naked, a collar around her neck, and her wrists and ankles in their familiar bracelets. She was kneeling in Stephanie’s Dungeon, with her arms locked behind her back, and her ankles locked together as well. Camille stood next to Allison, holding a chain that was attached to her collar.
Mistress Stephanie was wearing a PVC type “Domme” dress that Allison had seen in the shop, one that covered yet showed off her attractive body; along with a matching pair of heels, she simply looked every part the skilled Dominatix!
When Allison had come to Stephanie’s house for her weekly session with her Mistress, Camille had quickly noticed the marks on her back. She handcuffed Allison when she left to speak to Stephanie, and after being outfitted she was quickly brought to the basement Dungeon, instead of receiving her usual bath first.
Stephanie was seated in a throne like chair, and Allison was forced to her knees in front of her Mistress. Camille then locked her wrists and ankles, and stood silently holding her leash.
“Well?” Stephanie demanded.
“Nobody else, Mistress,” Allison answered.
“Those are fresh marks from a flogger on your back, and I didn’t put them there. The last time that I used you, it was with a paddle on your bottom, and a riding crop between your legs. I keep records of how I use my submissives, Allison, in order to keep track of a slave’s training. So I know that I haven’t flogged your back recently – so who did?”
“I am not seeing any other Dominatrix, Mistress Stephanie.”
“You’re still not answering my question, Allison. Now I have two alternatives here – I can either best the answer out of you, or send you upstairs to dress and never see you again. When you began in my service I told you that slaves have no secrets from their Domme – and that still holds. So answer the question, or do I have to pinch your nipples until you cry out?”
“I’m sorry Mistress – I bought a flogger, in addition to some other toys at a sex shop in Manhattan – and I flogged myself,” Allison explained.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Stephanie said as she sat back in her throne, “just what did you buy?”
“I bought two Catsuits; shoes and boots; a flogger; a crop; and two gags, Mistress. I’ve been fantasizing being both a Mistress – and a slave!” Allison answered.
“Really, that’s very interesting. I had no idea that you were so devoted to submission.”
“I was in the city with some friends, and looking at designer clothes got boring – besides you forbade me to buy any more. So I went downtown to a fetish shop, and went on a shopping spree. You didn’t forbid me from going to such a place, Mistress.”
“That’s true,” Stephanie answered.
“I didn’t mean to disobey you, Mistress. I just wanted to experience more things.”
“Including wearing a Domme’s outfit?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Allison answered.
“It’s my own fault for not ordering you to stay out of fetish shops – in the future I’ll have to order new submissives not to buy any bondage items without my express permission. And you also flogged yourself?”
“Hard as I could, Mistress,” Allison replied.
“I can see that,” Stephanie observed, “you enjoy being punished so much?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Allison answered.
Stephanie got to her feet, walked over to her rack of devices, and hung the riding crop back in its usual place. She then removed a whip, and coiled in her right hand. Clicking her heels on the stone floor, she walked back to Allison, then placed the handle under her chin, indicating that the girl should lift her head and look directly at her Mistress.
“Do you know what this is?” Stephanie asked.
“It’s a whip, Mistress.”
“Have I ever whipped you as yet?”
“The whip is a truly fearsome device, Allison. Only an experienced Mistress such as myself is qualified to use it, lest I damage you. Used incorrectly, the whip can break your skin and make you bleed, and do real harm. Do you understand?”
“Yes…yes, Mistress,” Allison carefully answered.
“For your impudence in buying bondage gear without consulting with me first, your punishment tonight will be the whip. I’m going to make you scream, Allison, and hurt you like you’ve never imagined possible. Do you consent? Or else you will never see me again,” Stephanie threatened.
“I consent, Mistress,” Allison quickly replied.
“You consent to the whip, even though I shall truly hurt you?”
“Kiss the whip,” Stephanie ordered.
Allison complied, her lips caressing the whip as if they belonged to a lover.
“Before you’re whipped, I think that a little contrition is in order. Do you remember the horse?” Stephanie asked.
“Yes, Mistress,” Allison answered.
“I believe that a few hours of your weight resting on your sex will place you in the proper mood before I whip you. Camille, see to it, please!” Stephanie ordered.
Some weeks earlier, Stephanie had placed Allison in a dildo harness. She had moaned when the belt had been drawn up between her legs, and the phallus inserted into her sex. After that, every step that she took could only be described as erotic agony. Every motion of her body resulted in the phallus frictioning itself against her vagina muscles, which had insisted in clamping themselves around the invader. For a good part of an evening, Allison had endured one orgasm after another as the dildo was locked into her sex.
It had merely been just one more weapon in Stephanie’s arsenal, and Allison knew that one-day she would be corseted – and a rack sat menacingly in the second Dungeon. So Allison knew that Mistress Stephanie had many more tools at her disposal that could inflict pain and pleasure on her slaves.
But Allison had never thought of this!
The “Horse” was two large pieces of sturdy wood, joined at the edge, in the shape of a large capital “A”. Allison was riding the “Horse” as if it was a real one, except that her entire weight was resting on a small piece of bare wood. Her hands were locked behind her back, and her ankles were chained to the Horse. Until released, she would remain on the Horse.
At first, she thought, it was not bad, and that she could easily endure it. Unlike being punished with a crop, this was a different sort of punishment completely!
It hadn’t taken but a few minutes before Allison realized just what sort of slow agony that the horse could inflict! She pulled at her chains without effect, knowing that she wasn’t going anywhere!
“How are you feeling?” asked Stephanie, when she appeared after what seemed like hours.
“I hurt, Mistress,” Allison answered.
“That’s what you’re supposed to do, silly,” chided Stephanie, “now in the future, you’ll be gagged while on the horse, perhaps nipple clamps, and I can even make you sit on a dildo as well. So there are many additional torments that I can do while you’re riding.”
“After a few hours of riding the horse, I’m sure that you’ll be one contrite young woman – eager to be whipped. Anything to get off the horse!”
“Now you won’t be alone, either Camille or myself will always be close by. So just be a good girl – and you’ll be rewarded!
“Yes, Mistress,” Allison replied, and she watched as Stephanie turned on her heels and walked away, leaving Allison to her fate.
If there was any worse form of agony, then after a short time, then Allison could not conceive of it. Bound on the Horse, her entire weight resting on her sex, she quickly regretted the impulse that has sent her to the fetish shop. But most of all, she replayed in her mind when she had picked up the flogger, and had began to use in on herself!
What had possessed her to buy anything related to bondage? Prior to Mistress Stephanie, all that she had owned was a vibrator. Then Stephanie had given her the Maid’s uniform, which Allison had discovered that she secretly got quite a thrill to wear, along with a pair of locking heels – which she also enjoyed wearing!
Her own common sense should have warned her that anything in a fetish shop was the province of Mistress Stephanie. After all, Stephanie had told her that she was now owned by the Mistress, and had given her shopping instructions – even down to the make of underwear that she was allowed.
Yet she had gone into a fetish shop, dressed like a Mistress, and had bought a few toys. Then she had gone home, and flogged herself! She had enjoyed the weight and feel of the flogger in her hands, the supple leather that could bring such feeling when it struck her nakedness.
“Aaaaaaah!” she moaned when she shifted slightly.
Allison didn’t know what hurt more. Staying still, or trying to move! Both brought agonies to her pained sex!
As if to taunt Allison, Stephanie had placed a small easel stand in front of her, one that contained a riding crop, flogger, and paddle, plus a coiled whip. All of the instruments so far that had been or were going to be used on her! Off to one side was a mirror, so that Allison could see a reflection of herself in agony on the Horse!
How long would she remain here? Without a clock, or even the sun’s rays, she could not measure the passage of time. For Allison, her entire world had shrunk to that of the Horse, and her poor pussy!
A slave, Allison quickly realized, is at the mercy of her Mistress. For once Allison had shed her clothes and accepted the collar, she had given up all rights – except her safeword – to her body.
She pulled at her wrist bracelets, but the leather and steel were unyielding to her futile efforts. What possible effect could naked flesh have against the bonds that held her?
Truth was that Allison was bound to Stephanie with something far stronger than steel. Her bondage and servitude; plus Stephanie taking her to bed had resulted in Allison actually loving her Mistress.
It was, she thought, a strange form of love. One expressed with pain and pleasure, kisses and the lash, and invasions of her sex by dildos and the crop!
So all Allison could do was to wait out her sentence, glad that she had not been gagged. Her only companions being the easel that contained the instruments of her torment, and the mirror that reflected her pained image back to her.
“Would you like to be released?” Stephanie suddenly asked, startling Allison out of her agony.
“Yes…yes, please, Mistress?” Allison begged.
“You know the penalty – you are to be whipped for your impudence – you know that as your Mistress, I own your body.”
“Yes, Mistress. I’m sorry that I bought the fetish clothes without asking you first, and I shouldn’t have flogged myself either.”
“You’re learning, Allison. Once you have been released, you can, of course leave. But then you would never see me again.”
“No, Mistress. Please whip me?” Allison begged.
“Be careful what you ask for, Allison, especially from a Dominatrix.”
“Camille,” Stephanie ordered, “hang her from the ceiling chain, spreader bars for both her wrists and ankles – I want every part of her naked body accessible to me – and the whip.”
Stephanie waited patiently as her orders were obeyed, her hands holding the coiled whip as if it were a snake. She tapped the handle against her palm, and sat down in her throne as Allison was hung in chains.
Camille attached spreader bars to Allison’s wrists and ankles, then locked the wrist bar to the ceiling chain. Activating a switch, a motor soon drew Allison taut, with her feet just touching the floor.
Allison glanced at herself in the mirror – bound naked in the shape of an “X”; hung from the ceiling, she had never felt so vulnerable in her life. She was totally naked and exposed to whatever Mistress Stephanie would inflict on her – tonight the whip, which she inflicted on herself!
“Allison is ready for you, Mistress Stephanie,” Camille announced!
“Thank you, Camille.”
Stephanie got to her feet, and walked over to Allison, hanging helpless in her chains.
“You’re welcome, Mistress.”
“Tell me, Allison, have you ever spoken to Camille? In the bath perhaps, or when she was preparing you for a session?”
“Has she told you of our history together?”
“No, Mistress. I had just assumed that she was both your maid and slave together,” Allison answered.
“Actually, Camille was hired as just my regular maid and cook; and I took pains to see that she wasn’t home when I did a session. Then one day, I got my schedules mixed – and Camille came in by accident during a session with a slave. Rather than flee in disgust, she asked to be trained as a slave to assist me, and has been a loyal servant and companion for many years.”
“That’s very interesting, Mistress.”
“I bring this up to demonstrate the bonds that form between a Mistress and her submissives – do you understand?”
“Good – now kiss the whip!”
Allison’s lips touched the instrument that was about to hurt her more than ever before, yet she caressed it tenderly as though it were her fondest and deepest love. Totally helpless and exposed to the lash, she nevertheless felt a strange sort of expectation. That she was now going to undergo a special sort of trial, and one that she was determined not to fail. She resolved not to use her safeword, no matter how much agony that she was in!
Stephanie stood back a few steps and let the coils of the whip uncurl to the floor. All that Allison could hear was the pounding of her own heart in her chest, and her blood thundering in her ears.
“You do not have to count the strokes, and may call your safeword at any time,” Stephanie instructed her bound captive.
The first stroke with the whip seemed to echo through the Dungeon, and the leather wrapped itself around Allison’s body, the tip ending up on her belly. Allison had been expecting some horrible stroke that would rent her flesh and make her scream, yet she had endured much worse from the crop!
Allison tensed in her bonds, hearing the clink of chain and her indrawn breath. Again, it was far milder than she had imagined!
Stephanie circled around Allison, moving a few steps each time to deliver a new and potent stroke to her slave’s naked body.
Allison thought that Mistress Stephanie was like a skilled surgeon, using the whip as a precision instrument that was designed to inflict pain, but not harm.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
As Stephanie continued her relentless whipping, Allison could detect that each stroke was a little stronger than the last! Having introduced Allison to the lash, now she was gradually increasing the effect of the lash! Her true punishment was beginning!
“How are you feeling, Allison?” Stephanie asked.
“Fine, Mistress, thank you,” Allison answered.
Allison thought that if six months earlier someone had told her that she would have given up on her wild and carefree lifestyle in order to be hung naked from the ceiling and be whipped by a Dominatrix, she would have told them that they were crazy! Now Allison wondered if she wasn’t crazy herself!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Three strokes had landed on her breasts, and all that Allison did was moan. In actuality, what she wanted to do was scream in agony, but she hung quietly as each stroke left a mark on her nakedness.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Another stroke managed to land between her legs, into the cleft of her sex. Allison wondered how Mistress Stephanie could possibly aim the whip with such precision!
Crack! Crack! Crack!
It seemed as if Allison had been whipped forever, and that her agony would never cease. Naked and exposed, her body totally vulnerable to the lash, she had committed the final folly in her life. Had her desires finally resulted in her downfall?
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Allison stole a look at Mistress Stephanie. For the first time she wondered what had possessed a woman to become a Dominatrix?
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The whip would coil itself around Allison’s body like a snake, and then the tip would strike her, leaving a mark behind indicating its passage.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
“Would you like to see yourself?” Stephanie asked.
Camille then wheeled over a mirror, and Allison then saw herself naked, drawn in the shape of an “X”, sweating profusely, and her body covered in red marks. She realized that she was nothing more than a whipped slave, who desired nothing more than to be punished further.
“Thank you, Mistress. Please continue?” Allison asked.
“You want to be whipped more?”
Stephanie weighed Allison’s right breast in her hands, squeezing it in her fingers, making Allison moan with desire. Then her hand slipped further down to between her thighs, and two fingers were inserted into Allison’s wet sex.
“What do you desire more, Allison – my whip or my rubber cock?” Stephanie demanded.
“Both, Mistress,” Allison answered, “I’m yours – totally!”
“Kiss the whip, slave,” Stephanie ordered.
“Camille, you may give her a bath, then chain her in a bedroom, her hands to her collar so she doesn’t satisfy herself. I’ll be in and see her later.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Camille answered.
At the conclusion of her session, Allison imagined that she would again be chained in Stephanie’s bedroom, and that she would again be made to service her Mistress sexually. After the ordeal of the whip, she thought that Mistress Stephanie would hold and console her, and compliment her for her bravery in taking the lash.
Instead, she had been disappointed when Stephanie had given orders that she be bathed, and then chained in a bedroom.
She lay naked in a well-furnished bedroom, with her hands locked to her collar. Camille had tended to her needs, and Allison discovered that the whip had not harmed her – indeed her skin had not been broken once.
However, her body now screamed for sexual release! With her hands locked to her collar, she could relieve herself, and all she could do was to grind her legs together in frustration.
“Good evening, Allison,” said Stephanie, as she entered the bedroom.
“Good evening, Mistress.”
“How do you feel? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, Mistress. You did not hurt me with the whip, but I am hurt otherwise.”
“Mistress, I thought that after such a session that you would take me to bed and make tender love to me as you did before,” Allison answered.
“Allison, when you are a slave, you must understand that I can do whatever I want with your body. That includes both being punished, and making love afterwards. Every time that I discipline you will not automatically lead to us having sex – in fact it will usually mean your being chained naked on the floor next to me; or else as you are now.”
“Then you don’t love me?” Allison asked.
“On the contrary, I love you very much. Also I know what you were very courageous under the whip, and very scared. I thought that you were going to either use your safeword or scream in pain, but you did neither. I’m very proud of you, Allison.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Allison answered.
“You have learned many things in the last few weeks, but there is so much more to learn as well. Allison, you are a loyal and devoted slave, and you shall be rewarded – both with the lash and between your thighs. I have not even gagged you as yet, nor used nipple clamps – two items that will have an immense impact on you. But you must be patient, darling.”
“I think that I understand, Mistress.”
Stephanie placed a light cover over Allison’s naked body, and then kissed her tenderly on the lips.
“Tonight I shall not take you to bed, Allison. But there will be many other times that I will, and you shall feel my rubber cock between your thighs as well as my lash – that is a promise.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“Now get some sleep, and if you need anything, use the bell pull and Camille will be here quickly.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Allison answered.
Stephanie closed the door and shut the lights, and the only illumination in the room was from the full moon outside and the digital clock on the dresser.
Allison quickly drifted off to sleep, imaging that Stephanie was making love to her as before.
EPILOGUE – One Year Later
“Craig Barrow to see you Mistress,” announced Camille.
Craig Barrow was a member of a long and distinguished family in American history that stretched back generations. His law firm represented some of the best; oldest; and most important families in the United States. That included both the successes – and the failures. However, sometimes a unique solution was called for; and in that situation, Mistress Stephanie was called for.
“Thank you, Camille,” Stephanie answered from behind her desk.
Camille escorted Craig into the Library, and he didn’t betray any surprise to see that his hostess was wearing a PVC Catsuit.
“Camille, we can be alone,” Stephanie said to her conventionally dressed Maid.
Craig walked across the carpeted floor, past the leather footstool, and shook Stephanie’s hand when it was offered.
“Please have a seat. Drink?” Stephanie offered.
“Yes, thank you,” Craig replied as he seated himself in front of Stephanie’s wooden desk.
Stephanie walked over to a small bar, placed ice cubes into two glasses, then poured bourbon into both. Picking one up, she walked to her guest, handing him one, then seated herself back in her leather chair.
“Cheers,” she said.
“Cheers,” Craig answered.
They both took healthy swallows from their glasses, and eyed each other silently.
“What can I do for you today?” Stephanie questioned.
“Before we discuss business – I thought that you didn’t wear Fetish clothes except when you’re doing a scene?” Craig asked.
“I just thought that I would give an old friend a treat, that’s all. Unless you’d rather see me in a dress,” Stephanie offered.
“No, the Catsuit is very attractive on you.”
“Thank you,” Stephanie answered.
“I also thought that you didn’t drink in the afternoons either.”
“My clients have all canceled – one is sick, the second had a family emergency. So I’m all alone for the afternoon and evening.”
“I see, so how is Allison Robbins doing?” Craig asked, finally getting down to business.
“Just fine,” Stephanie replied.
“Fine is an understatement,” Craig began, “she now longer drinks and drives, or hangs out with the fast set. She now lives responsibly, works, and is planning to go to graduate school at Columbia. You’ve turned around a girl who was headed towards self-destruction, and given her direction in her life.”
“Surely you mean discipline, don’t you?” Stephanie offered.
“Yes,” he smiled, “its just a pity that more of the upper classes don’t take advantage of your services to give their children some discipline.”
“Craig, you know that I can only have an effect on women who desire and are attracted to my services – else it would just be a beating.”
“Too bad,” Craig answered, “how is Allison in bed and under the lash?”
“Now Craig, I know that as a lawyer you can’t talk about your client’s private information. In my own way, I’m a similar professional also – that information is strictly private. What transpires between me and my submissives in this house shall remain secret – that is my bond with my slaves – and shall forever remain so.”
“Too bad, I’m sure that it would be very interesting to watch.”
“I’ll give you a few videotape titles to watch of commercial porn,” Stephanie offered.
“Do have the afternoon off?” Stephanie asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes. It’s not easy being a lawyer to many of the countries richest and oldest families, but I do have the rest of the day off. Why?”
Stephanie rose from her chair, walked over, and kissed him on the lips, and he placed his hands on her PVC covered body.
“Hey! I thought you only made love to women?” he asked.
“Have you forgotten that I was married for many years?”
“I’m sorry,” he answered, “I forgot.”
She kissed him again, and he inhaled the aroma of her PVC clad body, and clasped her to his.
“In case you haven’t noticed – you’re being seduced!” said Stephanie.
“I’ve noticed,” he answered.
“Good. I hope that you’re as good in bed as you are a lawyer – else I have two Dungeons full of toys designed to make you satisfy me!”
THE END of “A Matter of Class”
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