andra flashed back:
For all four years of my humiliating sub life either I wore a garter belt and stockings, thigh high stockings, or crotchless pantyhose every day.
I licked Mariah’s feet while she was wearing stockings practically every day when we returned from school. Since breaking free from Mariah’s clutches, I hadn’t worn stockings of any sort. Not once!!!
Mariah looked down at Sandra’s legs, condemning her without a word before turning back to Kelly and explaining, “Trust me. Boys love stockings.”
“OK, Aunt Mariah,” Kelly replied, although she was skeptical.
Sandra gasped, “Aunt Mariah?”
Mariah gave her another silent look and Sandra scurried away to fetch the rest of the suitcases.
Mariah pointed out. “If you look at my legs in these dark brown, called mocha, stockings, the same as yours, you’ll notice my legs come alive in them.”
Kelly looked at the woman’s legs and had to agree the dark color really did seem to accentuate her legs. “They do look nice,” Kelly agreed.
“While if you check your Mom and her pale white legs, you can see they are less appealing. With a pair of stockings, even your mother’s skinny legs would have some color and come alive,” Mariah continued.
Kelly wondered if these new stockings would do the same for her.
As if reading the girl’s mind, Mariah offered, “Why don’t you try on the dress and stockings? You can see for yourself what stockings can do for you; plus, I want to make sure I got you the right size.”
“Sure,” Kelly agreed, excited to play dress up. Her mom was much more a jeans and t-shirt type, and thus Kelly had grown up wearing a similar style. For Kelly, this new look was like a Disney movie, an opportunity to play a princess. She was Cinderella and Mariah was her fairy Godmother.
Outside, Taylor had been awaiting Sandra’s return and she resumed her verbal assault on the MILF she knew would soon be hers. “So Sub-Sandra, are you happy to see your Mistress again, or are you delighted?”
Sandra was mortified that the girl knew about her dark past, but she decided just to ignore her. Perhaps she would have better luck in resisting this arrogant teenager than she had when her mother was this age.
As Sandra pulled the last two suitcases out of the car, Taylor sauntered leisurely in front of her, carrying nothing except her purse. Her smile, a virtual replica of her mother’s as she turned back, spoke volumes. “You know what my Mother gave me for my eighteenth birthday?”
“I have no idea,” Sandra said flippantly, trying to maneuver herself around the blonde beauty, who was walking too slowly and hogging the walkway.
“Stop, slut,” Taylor snapped, her tone identical to her mother’s. Sandra froze in her tracks out of both shock and fear.
The young Domme’s tone instantly turned soft as if speaking to a small child as she praised the older woman. “Good girl. I am hoping you won’t cause me any trouble, because my birthday present was you, and I’ve had to wait over a month to claim my present.”
“Pardon?” Sandra asked, shocked, even though she had heard what was said. Mariah had given her away as a gift. To a teenager! Her mind spun with the implications.
“Isn’t it clear? Mom is going to take your daughter as her new slave, so she is giving me her old one. But instead of getting an old car for a hand-me-down like most eighteen-year-olds, I’m getting an old woman.”
At forty-one Sandra felt old sometimes, but being called old by a teenager who was acting like she owned her cut rather deeply.
Yet, realizing her situation was far more dire than she’d originally thought, instead of fighting her, Sandra asked, attempting to buy herself some time without confrontation, “How is this going to work?”
“Good question, my pet,” her new Mistress purred, her tone again condescending. “Well, for now we’ll keep it on the down-low.” She paused, her hand slyly cupping the overwhelmed woman’s small breasts, before warning, “As long as you’re good.”
The teenage girl’s hands on her long-neglected breasts set off fireworks inside Sandra and her dire situation became even worse as she felt an inner urge to submit to this girl building inside her. She heard her words before she thought them. “I’ll be good.”
“Awesome,” Taylor said, her eighteen-year-old exuberance shining through. “I can’t believe it. I have my very own slut. If you remember your training, even better!” She squeezed her new slave’s breasts once more and started strutting towards her new residence.
Sandra was certain she remembered her training only too well as she watched the attractive girl leave, her shapely ass wiggling freely. She sighed, knowing she was already in way over her head. A second sigh followed before she resumed dragging in the bags of both her old and her seemingly new Mistresses.
Back in the house, Mariah was helping the sweet, innocent Kelly get her stockings on. “Now pay attention, Kelly,” the seductress explained, “if you roll the stockings on like this, they’ll slide easily up your leg.”
Sandra arrived to see her former Mistress on her knees draping stockings on her sweet, innocent daughter.
Kelly was in awe. She watched the stocking slide up her leg and felt a strange tingle she couldn’t place, as her Mom’s friend’s hands glided up her leg and to her upper thigh.
Mariah watched her daughter’s expression and as expected, the girl’s face was flushed… a sure sign the woman’s attention… treating the girl like a diva… was causing her libido to warm up.
Taylor watched the scene, then turned back and whispered to Sandra, who had paused just inside the front door to stare, “By the way, make sure you offer your bedroom to my mother.”
“What?” Sandra asked, “Why?”
“You really are a dense bitch,” Taylor said insultingly. “To save time, of course. She’ll be Mistress of this home soon, so why inconvenience her?”
Both of Kelly’s stockings in place, Mariah stood, and grabbing the shy girl’s hands pulled her up, purposely a bit too hard so Kelly overbalanced and stumbled into Mariah.
Kelly apologized like a nice girl would do even though it wasn’t her fault. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Ma’am,” Mariah roared with laughter. “I’m not a ma’am, I’m just your Aunt Mariah.”
Again apologizing, Kelly said, “Sorry, Aunt Mariah.”
“Good girl,” Mariah replied, planting a seed in the young girl for later. Respecting Aunt Mariah was the right thing to do and earned approval.