Reluctant Diva 15

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Reluctant Diva 15
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 15 – A learning experience
It was around noon the following day when Mrs Bell drove me back home. The events of the previous evening were already hazy in my recollection.
“See you again, honey!” My hostess smiled, as I made to open the car door. “And soon, I hope!” she whispered conspiratorially, winking and placing her hand on my thigh. Her action triggered thoughts of the previous evening, giving rise to deep blushes and an immediate tingle down there.

I swung my legs sideways to alight, remembering in time to leave the car in a ladylike manner. My day-dress was none too long, not enough to cover any mistakes anyway. With my luck Mom would be sure to be watching and I wanted to remain in her good books as much as possible. I waved goodbye to my erstwhile hostess, who gave me a warm smile in return, accompanied with another of the slyest of winks. I could feel my cheeks glowing as I tripped delicately up the path to our front door.

I had been preoccupied with a burning question all the way home. What was I going to tell my parent? Knowing Mom, she would be sure to demand an account in the minutest particular. I couldn’t face revisiting all my experiences with her and was wondering how I might avoid doing so. I wanted to skate over what had taken place as much as possible. Perhaps I could appeal to her discretion? That seemed a long shot. What had actually happened?

By the time we had gotten to the house the previous evening, with the all the novelty and tension that the day had afforded I was mentally exhausted. The building itself seemed huge, on a different scale altogether from ours. Her maid, a stocky middle-aged woman named Maria, welcomed us at the door and ushered us in. She looked and sounded to me as if she might be of Spanish origin.
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Hard-featured and olive skinned, her black hair was very short. I had her pegged as just another vaguely unattractive female in her plain black uniform dress with starched white apron over it. However, I was grateful to her when she bustled away to the kitchen and brought us both a cup of chocolate. I eased down onto the couch with a sigh and slipped out of my shoes. “Am I glad to be out of these heels” I murmured. I looked up to see my hostess watching me thoughtfully.

“You handled yourself really well tonight, Jennifer” she said with an encouraging smile. “You had that boy completely taken in and if I’m not mistaken, he can be eating out of your hand before very long. Have your drink while I get a few things ready” she bade me and she left the room.

It was twenty minutes later when she called me and obediently I made my way upstairs. My mind was performing somersaults trying to imagine what was to happen. She was wearing a full length quilted robe and took me first to see the bedroom I had been assigned. It was a pretty room, “My daughter’s before she got married. You needn’t call me Mrs Bell, you know” she smiled. “It’s Madeleine. Before bed there’s something I want to show you. I’ll send Maria to help you prepare.”

When the maid duly appeared she immediately took charge of me. She removed my hairpiece then helped me out of my blouse and skirt, chattering volubly all the time. The woman was so matter of fact that I felt no embarrassment even when standing before her in my undergarments. Amazingly, I wasn’t fazed when she admired my pointy bra, illustrating her approval by running her hands over the shiny material. The action seemed completely natural in her. On unfastening the garment and sliding the straps down my arms exclaiming “Oh! Nice boobies for such a little miss!”

Finally Maria knelt, her face inches from my private area, to remove the garter belt and hose and I found myself just standing before her, quite happy to let it happen. I guessed what made the situation okay was because…. it seemed like it was what she did. She helped me into a robe, very like Madeleine’s, and then told me to refresh my makeup. She rolled her eyes as she left me “Now you go to mistress room. She ready for you!”

Only a few minutes later I tapped on my hostess’s door, self-consciously aware I was clad only in my skimpy panties under my borrowed robe. I entered it with some trepidation but although we’d only met earlier that evening, Madeleine’s friendliness was disarming. She told me to sit next to her on the bed. Her manner seemed like that of a long lost auntie or something. Before very long I felt completely comfortable being with her.
Just when I had gotten totally relaxed and was wondering whether I could excuse myself and turn in, Madeleine made a request. “Now Jennifer, there’s something I need to show you. Take off your robe please!”

That got my attention! I complied hesitantly and slipped it off my shoulders. Instinctively I tried to conceal my naked chest, but she disregarded my embarrassment. “What lovely breasts” she admired. “They are developing nicely; and so shapely, it’s a pity to cover them up!”

Nonetheless I kept my hands over them. Completely taken aback, I sat wondering what my hostess had in store for me next. This wasn’t supposed to be happening!

Madeleine faced me, looking right in my eyes, “You need to understand how a woman’s body responds, so this may seem strange, but trust me it will be okay. For a man to get her in the mood, it’s all about timing and being sensitive to where she is at. Bodies have what are called erogenous zones, places where it’s exciting when they’re touched. Yours won’t be quite the same as mine just yet, but given time…” She seemed amused by this thought and paused, a knowing smile played over her face.

She continued reassuringly “Tonight you are allowed to make use of mine. We are fortunate that in this State you have already reached the legal age of consent, so it will be okay for you to do exactly as I show you; if you’re happy about it, that is. I’ll provide the explanations afterwards.”

She rose to her feet and standing directly in front of me took off her robe. The effect was dramatic, for underneath she was wearing a nightgown the like of which I’d never seen before, not even in magazines. It was black, full-length and completely transparent. Under it she wore nothing at all!
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The only light was from a table lamp, so the room was dimly lit but a headband sparkled against her skin, matched by an armlet and earrings. Alarmed, I sat there transfixed by the outline of her heavy, shapely breasts, and the full curve of her hips and thighs. The dark vee of her crotch was equally discernible. Madeleine’s figure was elastic and youthful in its movements and in the soft light she looked like a dream. The woman’s face bore a proud smile, consciously letting my eyes run over her and take in all I could see.

She reached up and undid her hair so that it fell in a long wavy cascade down her shoulders and back. I felt my body respond familiarly to this sensual vision, but everything was held securely in place by those silky panties I was wearing. Flimsy as I had thought them, they kept everything under control.

“Safely tucked, are we?” she asked softly, as if reading my mind.

“Yes Mrs B… er... Madeleine” I stammered, shocked at the directness of her question.

Ignoring my confusion she continued. “Good. That’s very important. Now lie here next to me”

I nodded and obeyed her, wide-eyed with anticipation. Anything she said to do was all right with me just then.

My ‘lesson’ then began in earnest and my tutor didn’t confine herself to theory; what she taught was put into practice. Though I’d fantasised about an encounter like this often enough, the reality of it actually happening with such a mature and sophisticated woman was unbelievable. The whole experience was intensely exciting. For me it ended all too soon, leaving me with unfulfilled desires, unlike my partner in intimacy!

“Jennifer, dear” said Madeleine after a space of several minutes. “That was very, very good! I want you to understand what just took place. What we just did might be a prelude to full intercourse. It’s called fore-play and is a good way to prepare for sex. You performed your part very well. I can’t tell you how well… But that’s all that’s going to happen!”

She continued serenely “It takes some time for a woman to get to the place where she needs to be. Also that doesn’t always happen in love-making because sometimes the man can be too selfish to care whether the woman is having fun, or to give her the time she needs, as long as he gets his pleasure?”

I nodded dumbly. I thought I understood her what she was getting at, but what was really occupying my thoughts was…. What were we going to do next?!
Nothing, it seemed!

“Thank-you Jennifer. You are a fast learner and really did very well” she smiled. “It’s time for you to sleep now.”

Sleep!!! I longed to strip off those panties that were restricting me, mount on top of her and take possession of that luxurious body, not that I felt sure I would be able to. Despite my self-doubt, every nerve in me was crying out for some kind of release. However, it seemed that it was not to be.

I was dismissed and rose reluctantly. Madeleine lay immodestly on the bed and gave me my final instructions. “You must sleep just as you are Jennifer. I’ll know if you don’t. I will explain why that’s important in the morning. On your way to your bedroom call Maria for me. Good-night dear.”

Thus bidden I picked up my robe and made my way disconsolately from the room. There was no need for me to call the maid. She was standing at the head of the stairs apparently awaiting her mistress’s summons.

“Good night, little miss” she smiled slyly as I passed her. “You see. She want Maria now!”

Having a maid at one’s beck and call seemed the height of luxury to me and this one now proved to be of a most exotic kind. She had removed her uniform dress and was clad in a little black slip trimmed with lots of lace. The effect was eye-catching. I turned to look back at her as I entered my bedroom. She grinned, mischievously wiggling her hips so that her minuscule petticoat did little to preserve her modesty.
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As the door closed on that provocative vision, it was hard to focus my attention on my own situation. The room I was to sleep in was adorned with feminine frills and flounces draping the furniture. Madeleine’s perfume pervaded all, keeping fresh in my mind what had, and hadn’t, just happened. My senses were was spinning and in the end I threw myself down on the bed to try and settle for sleep.

The room was softly lit by a skylight with the glow from the moon and stars streaming in. I lay there confused and tired but unable to drift off. Being tucked into those little panties didn’t help and I couldn’t get comfortable. My dismissal with so little ceremony rankled in my mind and I couldn’t help but wonder why Maria was wanted just then. I knew I had been excluded from something even if I didn’t know from what.

What chance was there of rest? When I closed my eyes I seemed to see Madeleine’s body so close to me that I could study those wonderful breasts and curves that I longed to touch again. The disturbing image Maria had made was imprinted on my mind. Perfume seemed to engulf me. The night was an endless one that I would remember long afterwards and it was nearly morning before I finally fell asleep.

Mercifully Madeleine let me lie late and she had already bathed, dressed and breakfasted by the time she woke me. I was thankful that her body was decently covered in a modest top and trousers when she entered my bedroom. I needed no further excitement and hastily covered my chest with one of the pillows.

“I hope you like my daughter’s room; it’s such a pretty room. Sleep well?” she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Err…” I stammered.

“Guess not too well, then.” The twinkle grew into a grin. “Never mind, dear. You may have learned something which you will find useful, even so!”

I must have looked my puzzlement because unasked she went on to elaborate. “I hope you have learned how a woman’s body responds to… stimuli. You were an eager student last night, so I feel sure you have. But even more important for a woman, you need to know how to control that response. That’s why I didn’t want you to untuck yourself and I’m pleased you did as I asked. I’m hoping that having to exercise self-control all through the night will have made a lasting impression on you.”

Her logic made some kind of sense; in a twisted sort of way.

Leaving me to digest her words she remarked “I’ll send Maria to you to now.”

I sat on the bed and stretched myself lazily. I needed more rest but just then the maid entered. Her entrance was unheralded and without preliminary she came directly over to me. Again I hastily tried to cover myself. Even though she was fully clothed in her uniform dress, I found her presence disturbing this morning, unlike yesterday. Last night’s image of her was still vivid in my memory and I was newly aware of her femininity and attracted by it. What was I thinking?!
Ignoring my embarrassment Maria unceremoniously pulled me to my feet, chattering as she did so about how late it was and how much there was to do. Dazed by these attentions I allowed her to wrap me in a robe and lead me to the bathroom. The bathtub was already filled with steaming scented foam.

She took off my robe and started to remove my panties. “No, it’s okay, really!” I protested. To escape this treatment and hide my shame I wriggled away from her, slid them off and got myself into the water. The maid was quite unconcerned at my prudish behaviour and kneeling down beside me began to soap me all over like a baby.

“How old are you, my pretty one?” The all too intimate ablutions completed, Maria posed her question as I stepped out of the tub to be engulfed in a huge warm towel.

“Er… fourteen.”

“When you fifteen?”

“In two months. Why?” Her curiosity sparked my own.

“Ah, two month! Little miss is then a woman. Big party! Pretty clothes! Fun with boys, yes?”

What?!

I was mystified but even more disconcerting was her parting remark, “When you are woman, you come see me. Lots of fun! For you and for me!” With that she twirled around and flounced out.

While I was drying myself the thought struck me how differently I had reacted this morning. Whereas the previous evening I had regarded Maria with something close to repulsion, now my thoughts about her were totally different and would ill bear recounting. When I returned to the bedroom the woman of my thoughts had been busy and I found the clothes which my mom must have packed up for me laid out on the bed. Maria helped me get into my bra, panty-girdle and hose and despite my confused feelings towards her I enjoyed letting her pamper me.

Just as I was about to be helped into my day dress, Madeleine re-entered the room. She was carrying an unfamiliar item of clothing. “You might like to try this on. It’s something my daughter won’t wear anymore and could be just the thing for your date tonight.”

I took it and could see it was a black all-in-one piece in a soft material; pants below a halter top. Maria held it for me as I stepped into it and then she adjusted and fastened the strap behind my neck.
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The jump suit was tailored to fit the waist closely, and while it was tight on my legs and hips, it was loose around my rear. The top gave me a generous cleavage and left my shoulders exposed.

“Using the powder room may take you a little longer, but on the other hand you may find this style has some advantages when you are out with a boy.” My mentor’s advice seemed to make sense. “With the right underpinnings your rear end is going to look sensational too, believe me. Your butt will fill this out beautifully if you don’t spoil the shape with that panty-girdle. Do you have any more little briefs like the ones you had on yesterday?”

I nodded, remembering Mom buying both colours, black and white.

“Wonderful. Take this with you and wear it tonight, unless of course your mom has any other plans for you. Here! You might like to wear this underneath. It’s to get that all-important hourglass figure.”

She handed me something like a wide elasticated belt. The ‘cincher’ as it was called, was black and fastened with a several rows of hooks and eyes. I shivered slightly, wondering anxiously how constricting this might prove to be on my protesting body. However when it came to choice of attire in such a delicate instance as a date with a boy, I decided it was preferable to trust Madeleine. On balance Mom’s recent record of selecting my outfits didn’t fill me with confidence. Ignoring my restless night, my new friend seemed to be more consistently on my side than my parent. I managed a smile and mumbled my thanks.

What was now occupying my mind, to the exclusion of pretty much all else was, that I would be having my first date with a boy that evening, and a red-blooded one at that! Just the thought was enough to take away my appetite.

“Now you had better finish getting ready,” she smiled. “I told your mom I’d have you back by lunchtime. Perhaps just skip breakfast? Okay.”

Predictably, as soon as I got home, Mom wanted to know everything that had happened since I had left her. I tried the best I could to give her an honest account without going into every last detail.

She was very interested in what Madeleine had worn and immediately pointed out its intended purpose. “Now you will understand how a woman feels, when she has spared no pains to make herself pleasing to a man.” was her conclusion. “Just think about how vulnerable she has made herself and how easy it is for her feelings to be hurt. It’s quite often something that is hard to forget.” she ended ruefully.

All I knew about her own marriage to Dad was that it had been one of those wartime quickies. As was true of so many of them, it hadn’t lasted and scars had been left behind. After a few moments of unhappy reflection Mom wanted to know “what else had I learned?”

I’d expected this and attempted to gloss over the subject as much as possible. I aimed to try and summarise my experiences if I was allowed to. How to do so was less clear! “Well, you won’t want me to spell out what we did in detail, in fairness to Madeleine.”

Her eyebrows rose at my familiar use of the name.

“We didn’t go all the way, of course, but she showed me exactly how women respond to… well… how they respond” I faltered. Mom’s eyes were wide and staring, but she didn’t look displeased. Taking advantage of the ensuing pause, I tried to close the embarrassing subject. “I realise now how different it is for a woman. It takes so much more for her to be ready, for example.”

I continued sorrowfully, “The only thing was that I couldn’t get to sleep afterwards. It was torture!”

Her eyebrows rose further at this and I put in quickly “That’s because there was something else that I was supposed to learn. A girl needs to be able to say no, and to her own body’s desires as well as to those of her date.”

Mom looked at me very seriously and emphasised the point. “That’s what makes all the difference between nice girls and trash. Think about it. A ‘real’ female is expected to be able to respond to any suitable advances from males favourably but has to be ready to reject any that aren’t so suitable. See how tough that can be?”

The implied slight on my dubious girlhood hit home. I recognised that I was nowhere near the level of self-control that was being asked of me and my eyes filled at the seeming hopelessness of attaining it. I stood there dejectedly but next minute I felt Mom’s arms round me. She squeezed me tight then pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

“I didn’t mean to be hard on you. You handled Marty very well. You did mostly all right” she said with a kind of pride, and I was so relieved that I burst into tears.

My emotions seemed to be all over everywhere these days. I sobbed and had to be hugged again and the following half-hour was kinda nice. It was good to feel really close to her and it sort of made up for some of the bizarre things she continually put me through – well, almost!

I made us some coffee and the opportunity arose to settle a question that had been bothering me all day. “Mom.”

The inquiring look I received was enough encouragement to continue.

“Did you know Madeleine has a maid?”

“Yes, sweetie. She owns her own business and is quite well off. Why?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just Maria sounds foreign, that’s all.”

My mother laughed at my ignorance. “Maria isn’t foreign. She’s Hispanic. Her people came from Mexico when she was a girl. There are quite a few Latino families around here. There’s a little church over the other side of town. San Bernardo’s. What did you think of her?”

I shrugged. “She seemed okay, I guess. She wanted to know when I was fifteen. She thought that’s when I would be a… well… a woman. Why a woman? It sounds so permanent. Why would she say that?”

“Oh that would be because it’s a tradition they have in their community.” Choosing to ignore my worry over what had been implied about a lasting gender change, Mom preferred to supply comprehensive details relating to the Latin culture. “The girl is then termed a quinceañera, as they call her, and they have a big celebration for her fifteenth birthday. The girl gets to wear a lavish dress and they do all kinds of stuff to symbolise her transition from being a child to being a woman. It’s like a coming out ball. Nice idea, don’t you think?”

“I thought coming of age was sixteen.”

“Well yes, in almost every State it is” she clarified, “though in ours the legal age of consent is actually still fourteen. It’s time they changed the law around here, but it’s why I could let you er… spend time with Mrs Bell.”

By now I was confused. “So why fifteen?”

“It’s just their way. When I came of age I had a “sweet sixteen” party to mark the occasion. Nothing like as elaborate as this though. In the Latin tradition it’s a much bigger thing. Wouldn’t it be great for you to have something like that?”

I didn’t like the sound of what I was hearing! Her eyes sparkled and she looked thoughtful. Was I right to be worried?!

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So Jennifer's education continues

Angharad's picture

Though I found the episode with Mrs Bell as bizarre as her mother's behaviour. It could all have been done with her mother without any of the practical tuition which led to the night of frustration. It felt as if that might have been the object rather than explaining how women's bodies react to foreplay, it seemed more like torture. Are all the women in this so cruel because I feel what they're teaching Jennifer is very strange.

Angharad

Mother's Friends

joannebarbarella's picture

They all know that Jennifer is a boy but they are aiding and abetting his transition into girlhood. Mad Mother and her friends are warping the boy to their own ends and he will end up as a completely feminised girl whether he wants it or not. His resistance has already crumbled and he has the body of a teenage girl. His mind and attitudes will inevitably follow.