This is my first attempt at recounting my sexual dvelopment - particulary with regard to my dominant nature. I love to be in control of my girls and now I find I love to recount the details.
I really look forward to feedback - especially positive.
marieboss@gmx.co.uk
"Beatrice"
My name is Marie Brook. My father is Dutch, my mother English. I am forty years old.
I have lived most of my life in England and have attended first a girls' boarding school then university.
I have two degrees - a BSc and MBA and I have my own (successful) business.
My `hobby', my enjoyment, when not working (and sometimes when I am), is indulging my predatory sexual preferences.
My preference is for other women.
And girls.
Submissive, weak, compliant women and girls.
I cannot really remember when I became fully aware of my predilection for dominance and cruelty.It has grown progressively as I have moved through life.
Certainly I have always enjoyed being in charge'.Even as a young schoolgirl I always seemed to be the organiser' or the `leader'.I never considered any other option.Even though I wasn't always the biggest physically, I always seemed to be the ascendant by the force of my will.
So at primary and junior school I always ran a gang' of followers'. Girls who were less (physically and mentally) able than me and so looked up to me.Who did what I told them to do.
I suppose I am already sounding unbearably arrogant.
Good.
My girls always contained a mix of characteristics. There were those who were big and/or plain and who followed me because they were grateful for my friendship' and patronage. Then there were those who I found attractive and so set about deliberately seducing' them into becoming my friends' and then followers'.
It is fair to say that at some point every single one of them became somewhat enamoured following my introducing them to the pleasures of the flesh.
Perversely I took particular pleasure in initiating the less attractive ones.The ones who no-one had ever really shown any interest in.Once they had experienced my array of dirty little tricks they would always be wanting more.One way or another they became putty in my hands, became toys for me to play with.
One girl - let's call her Beatrice - had a terrible home life. Her parents virtually ignored her and her sisters bullied and tormented her because she was so plain and overweight. All of the details of her sad and squalid life came tumbling out after I had targeted then befriended her.I listened patiently to her sorrowful tales – gaining her trust – then set about seducing her with grown-up' secrets. I told her that there were delights to be had which would make the drudgery of normal' daily life become unimportant by comparison. She was so easy to manipulate she was almost begging me to `do it to her' within minutes.
I remember we were sitting at a table in the library between lessons.We were in a corner and virtually invisible from most other parts of the room.
I smiled at her, trying to look caring and sympathetic but actually wickedly gloating inside at the ease with which I led her.
Without speaking I looked into her eyes while simultaneously placing my hand on her bare leg, just above the knee.
She looked startled at that: her eyes widened and her mouth opened.
"Wha'... wwhat are you doing?" she stammered.
"You want to know what it feels like don't you?" I calmly answered - coyly tilting my head and raising my eyebrows questioningly. My hand remained immobile on her leg.I felt the soft skin beneath my fingers.
She lowered her eyes and bent her head.Her cheeks were flushed.She silently nodded and glanced up at me.She was shamefaced but she forced a smile.
I persisted "Well?"
She nodded silently again.
I began to feel aroused as I realised I was deliberately trying to make her feel humiliated "Say it.You've got to say it".
After a pause where her eyes darted around the room – presumably to see if anyone was watching - she whispered "Yes. I do. I want to know what it feels like".
I slid my hand a little further up her thigh.On the inside.
Smiling sweetly I said "Say please". My fingers began to gently stroke and tickle her.
Another furtive glance, her face even more flushed, her eyes starting to look a little watery, she whimpered "...please?.."
Now grinning, I pushed my hand along her thigh until my fingertips where touching the edge of her knickers.
"Open your legs" I ordered.
She parted her heavy thighs without a murmur; her eyes again scanning the room.
"Tell me if anyone looks at us" I instructed and immediately began to stroke her between her legs, on her vulva, through the material of her panties.
She leaned on her elbows on the table top, her hands clasped to the side of her head, over her ears.It was as though she was trying to hide.
I kept stroking and feeling her.I concentrated on her slit; following the crease in the fabric; stimulating her clitoris.I knew what I was doing.
"How does it feel?" I asked "is it nice?"
She had difficulty answering but managed to stutter "yes...it's lovely"; another awkward, nervous little smile, then a deep exhalation as I began to move my fingers more quickly.She closed her eyes and bent her head.Her face was crimson.
Confidently in control, I started to work my fingers under the edge of her panties.She didn't resist.She momentarily lifted her head to look pleadingly into my eyes but as my fingers found her clitoris she at first opened her eyes wide then bent her head again.She didn't make a sound.
I felt her hips moving rhythmically along with my fingers; she was clearly approaching orgasm.
"Try and open your legs a bit more" I instructed her "so I can do it properly".
She instantly stretched her thighs even wider under the table to accommodate me.
I went to town on her then - vigorously rubbing and tickling her.She was soaking.
Within minutes I noticed her breathing change and delightedly watched her come to a shuddering climax.She did remarkably well to maintain some level of composure: she trembled and sighed; she groaned softly.I kept working on her; kept rubbing that clitoris.I loved it.I told her to be quiet; to stay still.She obeyed to the letter.
When it was over and we quietly sat as she returned to `normal' I whispered into her ear "next time we'll do it without your pants. Tomorrow take them off before we sit together".
And that was the way it went over the next few days. She became more and more eager for me to give her pleasure and I, unknown to `Beatrice', was imagining and developing scenes in my mind which would both bring her the physical pleasure she had begun to crave, and me the cruel delight of my domination and humiliation of her.
End of first part.