From: nogarder@ix.netcom.com(*** )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Jackie O by The Gentlemaster
Date: 2 Feb 1996 03:35:13 GMT

			      Jackie O
				 by
			   The Gentlemaster

	   Jackie is one of those unique women who defy any common
explanation or definition. We meet only once every month or two, and
the encounter is very different, to say the least.

	She is an average height woman, average build, average
appearance in clothing and very little make-up. I LOVE average. But
what lurks beneath the surface of this very demure woman with her
nipple length hair done up in a bun is beyond what you might guess.
She is outgoing to a point, and ferociously devoted to, and protective
of her children. We met by chance when we were both walking our kids
to school and the story evolves from there.

	Our conversations mostly centered around kids and family life,
until one day I mentioned that my oldest child did not go in for the
spankings at her birthday anymore. Jackie was strangely quiet and
subdued for the next hundred feet of travel, looking blankly at the
walk ahead while her children played with mine all around. We often
left the school at different times and walked back separately, as she
walks slower than I, and I usually hate to keep a slower pace when I
have somewhere to go, like back home to check on my BBS messages.

	Today I decided to walk back with Jackie. She had become a
friend... not a close one, but a friend nonetheless. Her silence after
the mention of spanking intrigued me and I guess that it was curiosity
that tugged at me to stay with her more than anything. I never figured
that the two of us would ever share more than a casual friendship. As
we began to traverse home, the breeze of the new spring air shifted
and my nostrils caught a familiar, if not stimulating scent. I was
downwind from Jackie. I inhaled fully, and slowly so as not to attract
attention to my delighted nostrils, and to ensure that she would not
be embarrassed. As we walked, I was certain that she was wet. Had the
talk of spanking gotten her going, or some other thought rambling
through her mind? I decided to test the waters a bit.

	"You seem awfully quite today," I queried. "Are you okay?" I
decided to wait for an answer, no matter how long it took. She took a
breath, then exhaled audibly.

	"I just have some things on my mind... just been thinking a
lot lately about me, and my life, what I want, and what I don't have
now." She continued to look only at the passing cracks in the
sidewalk.

	I was not sure yet. Was it just a career and fulfillment
crises she was in? "Yes," I responded. "It seems that when you reach
our age, you begin to look at a lot of things that you didn't before."
The statement evoked a small smile from her tender lips, then the
expression left them once more. Her face was awash with a growing
blush. "Anything you would like to talk about over coffee?" I asked.
I still did not know for certain what was on her mind, but I was
getting some strong signals. Her nipples had hardened considerably and
were now slightly visible nubs, even through the heavy bra she was
wearing.

	"No, I don't think so now," she replied. "I still need to sort
some things out on my own. Thank you anyway." Her eyes could scarcely
hold a gaze with mine now.

	I smiled. "Okay. If you ever need to talk, just let me know. I
know it is not like talking to another woman, and the things you
"gals" share, but I am a good listener if you need someone to do just
that." I knew she needed to talk, but also knew that it had to be her
decision from this point on. "See you tomorrow."

	"Bye," she responded, as I turned away and headed home. I had
barely gotten five steps when she called out. "Wait!" Her voice had a
very distinct urgency to it, and she glanced around to see if anyone
else had heard her plea.

	"Well, let's go then. Do you want to talk at my place or
yours?" A fear leapt from her eyes at the sound of my invitation. I
mentally kicked myself. "I'm sorry," I added, now aware of her
discomfort at being seen in the company of another man... especially
at her house or mine. We both knew other parents in the neighborhood
and rumors always run rampant at the PTO meetings. "Would you like to
meet for a coffee and roll down at the deli in twenty minutes? We can
take a booth way in the back and talk." She hesitated for a few
seconds, then shook her head in an affirmative response. The look in
her eyes was one of desperation to talk. That `spill your guts in a
safe environment' emotion was written all over her face.

	"Okay, twenty minutes." She turned and walked away. I followed
her with my gaze for only a second. At this point it would have made
her uncomfortable to turn around and see me staring at her.

	At the deli, she opened up to me bit by bit, occasionally
having tears fill her eyes, often telling me that she was very
relieved to find someone to share with who would not judge her harshly
for what was going on in her head. In a nutshell, she wanted to be
sexually dominated. She had had fantasies about it for most of her
life, but old traditions and social expectations had kept her from
admitting it to anyone. I confided in her that I had some dom
experience. She gave me a shocked look the first time I mentioned it.
I smiled and remarked, "You never know, do you?"

	"No, you never do," she responded. This was the first of many,
many talks about the subject. After about our tenth meeting, she asked
me a question. "Do you think that there is a way to have an experience
like I fantasize about without having sexual contact? Or at least not
having penetration?"

	I grinned slyly. "The experience can be whatever you want it
to be Jackie. You just need to have a willing, caring partner who will
absolutely respect that limit."

	She looked at the coffee cup, running her finger lightly over
the rim, feeling the heat rise. Her face blushed, but her eyes never
left the table. "I want to do it with you," she whispered. Her voice
was almost too soft to hear. Did I hear correctly, or was I wishing
that I had heard it? She looked me straight in the eye this time. "I
want to be dommed by you," she repeated. There was no mistake. My ears
heard it well this time, and so did my prick.

	I agreed to oblige, but told her that we would need to talk
one more time about specifics of the needs being met. "If I give you a
list of things that I might do to you, would you be able to tell me
honestly what you think of them, then turn the list back to me? They
would only have Yes, No, Maybe, beside them, but it is important for
us to start there."

	She hesitated only a second, then responded with a firm yes.
We smiled, then left the deli, knowing that the next meeting there
might be our last before coming together as dom and sub. An
opportunity to advance, or to back out. She could go either way, but
it was her decision.

	The next morning after walking the kids to school, I
discreetly handed her the list of possibilities and hoped for the
best. She gave it back to me the following day, a blush covering her
entire face and neck. "We will not speak of this until next week at
the deli. Okay?" She nodded her head and turned for home. I smiled as
she left and could swear that her legs were trembling.

	The ground rules were established the next meeting. It was
understood that neither of us would ever talk about this to anyone.
She was never going to leave her husband. He did not fill her needs in
this area, but she could not live the remainder of her life without
this. There would never be any penetration of any sort during our
play. That way she could look him straight in the eye and say that she
had never had sex with anyone else. Well, sex in the traditional
sense. We firmly agreed that when either of us wants to call an end to
it, or if we feel that it is not working, for any reason, that it will
end.

			   First Encounter

	Jackie was nervous, to say the least. The sweat on her brow
attested to her anxiety and her excitement. The air in the hotel room
was musty, but being 15 miles from home it made her feel safe. "Are
you ready Jackie?" I asked, a stern look on my face.

	She inhaled sharply, and nodded her head. I walked behind her,
stood briefly, then firmly grabbed a handful of her red hair. I pulled
it back slowly and deliberately, causing her head to fall backwards,
then waited a few seconds.

	I leaned forward and whispered softly, but with intensity. "I
will not say this again or you will be punished for omission. When I
ask you a question, I expect an answer. In this case, you should have
answered, Yes Master. Jackie moaned slightly, but I held her tightly.
"Yes,... Master." She was uncomfortable with calling me Master, but
time and trust would take care of that problem.

	"Any infringement in the future will result in three swats
with the riding crop on your ass... or wherever else I please. Is that
understood?"

	"Yes, Master." My hand release her hair and stroked it.

	"Good!" I began to rub the riding crop over her body. First
her back, then her shoulders, back down to her ass. I walked to her
front and continued, avoiding her breasts and pubic mound. I gently,
ever so lightly, ran the leather strap at the end of the crop over her
face, caressing her cheeks, her forehead. I held it in front of her
lips and ordered her to kiss it. She did so, a bit hesitantly, but not
too badly for a novice slave.

	I allowed the crop to fall gently, with my guidance, and it
traced a path down her neck and over her blouse. Her nipples strained
at the fabric. She closed her eyes and her head rolled slightly to the
side. A moan emanated from those pouting lips. I followed her torso
with the crop, outlining her cunt, but not touching it. She wanted me
to rub her there, but I decided not to. She whimpered when I pulled
away and thrust her hips toward the crop involuntarily. My steps
carried me behind her once more and my hands rested on her shoulders
and turned her body gently toward the full length mirror.

	"Open you eyes and look at your reflection," I directed. "Now
take your clothes off... slave!" She moved slowly, as I expected she
would for the first time in front of me. Her blouse came off, then her
bra. Her skirt was next, then her shoes. "Stop a moment!" She was
surprised by my order, and her hands automatically covered her
breasts. "No, slave, do not cover your body in my presence unless I
tell you to." She reluctantly lowered her hands, staring intently at
her hard nipples. For her comfort, I allowed her a little time to get
used to being nearly naked in front of me... her new Master... while I
was fully clothed.

	I moved the crop from behind her form and rubbed it gently
between her thighs, pushing from side to side. "Spread your legs a bit
now." She complied, and the look on her face was one of surprise as
she stared at the wetness soaking through her plain cotton briefs.
She later told me that she had never been wet enough to soak
completely through her panties, let alone be able to see it from a
distance. A chill overtook her spine, and she closed her eyes again.
I smiled and continued.

	My hand traced her contours once more with the crop. She
whimpered and moaned with each new area that I passed over. "Look at
your dripping cunt, slave," I whispered in her ear. She looked
briefly, then her eyes closed again and she swallowed hard, her mouth
dry. "I can smell your sweetness from her slave, and you had better
tell me that all of that dripping moisture is for me."

	"Yes, Master, my... cunt... drips for you." I smiled at her
difficulty saying words that she had only thought of speaking to
another man. She would learn.

	I returned to the front of her and she opened her eyes,
straining to see past me to the mirror. "Stand still!" I barked. She
complied. I then allowed my gaze to follow over her breasts, lingering
on them before moving down and fixing on her pussy. I stared at her
wet crotch until she became fidgety. "Stand still slave!" She
stiffened and complied. "You must learn that your Master will look at
you often and inspect you. This is no time for your concerns. You are
here to please and pleasure me."

	"Yes, Master." She closed her eyes again.

	"This is a time of exploration slave," I continued. "I will
explore your body as I wish, and in turn, you will know yourself more
fully under my guidance. You will learn to express thoughts that have
been repressed for many years, and learn to look deeply inside
yourself at thoughts and hidden desires that you never knew existed in
your subconscious.

	I turned the crop around and began to move the handle down her
stomach to her pussy. Her eyes remained closed. I reached the top of
her pubic mound and slowed my speed... very slowly. I inched down at a
snail's pace, looking at her face for guidance as to what effect I was
having on her. Finally the handle passed over her clit and she groaned
loudly at the touch. I held it in place for a moment, not moving one
way or the other. Her thighs began to quiver from the anticipation.
Knowing that it would not take long for her to cum this way, I removed
the crop and walked around her again.

	"Hands behind you slave," I announced. She complied and I
attached the soft, fur-lined cuffs around her wrists and connected
them with the link. I took her by the shoulders and turned her in my
direction, then pulled her close, raised her chin and planted a kiss
on her that found my tongue racing through her entire mouth. She
responded in kind with a fury that I would have never suspected from
this suburban housewife. French kissing was the only form
"penetration" that we had agreed on, and I was certain that it would
be enough, with everything else that I had planned for this
woman/slave.

	I then probed under the waistband of her panties with the
riding crop and gathered some of the moisture flowing from her sopping
cunt. I held her hair tightly and placed the crop at her mouth.
"Taste!" She stuck out her tongue, and as she did, I pushed the handle
into her mouth an inch. "Getting to know yourself, slave, means
getting to know yourself inside and out physically too. Now suck it
off."

	As if a switch had been turned on, she sucked it clean with an
abandon that she had never shown before. Meekly she looked at me, her
eyes wild. "May I taste myself some more, Master... please?"

	"Yes, dear slave. Since you asked in such a nice way." We
repeated the tasting scene, then I removed her panties and had her
stand before me, legs spread, while a took a leisurely stroll around
her naked body. She was trembling with anticipation. I stood before
her, then removed my clothing. She gasped as I finally released my
hard, throbbing prick from its confinement. I am average in length and
breadth by most standards, but this is a woman who had not scene a
cock on a grown man, other than her husband, for sixteen years. I
stood before her, strutting my dripping prick, then reached out with
the riding crop and lightly tapped at her nipples.

	"Look how you have made me drip, slave. You are the cause of
this mess, and now you will have to be punished for it." With that, I
gave her breasts a couple of more symbolic taps with the crop, then
led her to the bed. I helped her to my lap, face down, my hard-on
pushing into her side, then I began to administer the spanking that
she had longed for secretly, but could never get her husband to give
her. I was happy to take his place.

	I gave her the twenty swats that we had agreed upon to start
with, then stood her back up and released her hands. "Now slave, lay
down on the bed and spread your legs for me." She slid onto the
downturned sheets and lay back, her legs splayed open for me. I
crawled between her thighs and reached for her wet slit. She moaned as
I teased her clit and probed inside her well of pleasure. "Play with
your nipples," I commanded. Her hands moved without hesitation this
time, as I continued to keep her on the brink of orgasm. I played with
her in this way for another five minutes... a long time for someone as
aroused as she was. Then I stood back. My slave gave me a quizzical
glance.

	I postured myself at the end of the bed, still holding the
crop for effect. "Masturbate!!"

	"Please... please. I have never, ever done that in front of
anyone before." Then at the last moment, she added "Master." There was
pleading in her eyes, but she also knew that this was part of her
training. I stood firm. She closed her eyes and began, slowly.

	"That is right slave. Show me what a wet cunt you have for
your Master. I want to see you cum, and you will do it for me!" In
only 30 seconds she was cumming like a freight train running free on
the tracks. She writhed and moaned and made guttural sounds that had
been locked inside her sexuality for decades. I smiled as her hands
relaxed and the spasms subsided. She grinned at me.

	I spoke. "Now do it again, and this time when you cum, I want
you to look into my eyes. You may keep them closed until the moment
that you cum, but you will look at me when it does happen." She began
to finger herself again, delving deeply into her cunt with her
fingers. Within five minutes she began to have another orgasm,
stronger than the first, her eyes fixed on mine as it started. When it
took over her body, there was no way that she could keep her gaze
fixed on mine during the depths of her shuddering. It was what I
expected, yet to have her look directly into my eyes at the moment
before being overtaken by her own lust would cause all of her senses
to be more aware... of everything.

	I gave her a moment to recover, stroking her face and telling
her how well she had done for the first time. Then I laid on my back
and had her straddle my hips, facing me. "Now take your hands and
bring me off slave."

	She fumbled a bit, not used to doing that sort of thing for
her hubby, but I knew that it would not take me long to cum, no matter
what her technique. But I also had plans to train her well in that
area. Her hands soon took on a steady rhythm and continued with me
directing her as to the pressure and pace. After only five minutes of
stroking my shaft, I spurted all over my stomach and chest. I opened
my eyes and found my new submissive smiling, delighted in what she had
just accomplished. I grinned at her and told her to get some tissue to
clean me off. She complied and we were soon dressing to leave.

	We shared a brief, but not too brief, kiss at the door, then
departed. She also understood that we would talk about our session at
the beginning of the next one, so that she had plenty of time to sort
out her desires and emotions about this time. I was looking forward to
many more encounters.

	It can be done... domination without intercourse or oral sex.
And it can still be very satisfying. I know.