I am a Chinese girl, and I live as a servant. I know that I must be punished when I
fail to please. I also know that I need corporal discipline. I need to be ready for
service at all times.
I don't wear very much clothing, usually just a piece of cloth tied around my
hips and through my crotch. I am some times allowed to tie a piece of cloth over my
breasts, but I am barefoot at all times. Going about in just bare feet gives me the
freedom of movement I need to serve quickly and silently. I strip to the nude whenever
I'm told to.
People stare at me when I'm put on exhibit. I'm lean and toned, and my
breasts and my bottom are firm and rounded. My skin is a golden-brown color, and my hair
is brown-black and extremely long. It hangs past my waist.
I am 19 now, but my journey into servitude began just shortly after I'd turned
18. At that time, something strange began happening within me. I became quiet, and I liked
it when people gave me orders. At that time, I was attending Dominion Academy, a private
girls' school where we had to wear uniforms--tiny tan skirts and dark-blue blouses,
no bras allowed. I found I liked going bare-breasted beneath my blouse.
Even then, I wore my hair down past my waist. The school authorities tried to make
me cut some of it off. They told my mother that such long hair made me look like a
streetwalker, but my mother spoke up in my defense. Although I was born here in the USA,
she was actually born in China.
"We Chinese have our traditions," she said to the headmistress of the
academy. "For many of us, long hair for young girls is a tradition. I want
Tanni's hair to remain as it is."
The headmistress saw my mother's determination and sincerity. I was allowed to
continue wearing my hair extremely long, and I was glad of it.
I lived near Dominion and walked there each day, and when I got home in the
afternoons, I had the house all to myself. I was only child and being raised by a single
mom. This gave me privacy to go into odd fantasies. I would imagine that some lesbians had
caught me sunbathing nude out in the woods and tied me to a tree. Or I would daydream that
I was living in the 1700s and that I was being flogged in the village square. I would even
imagine that I was a jungle girl who ran through the trees clad in just a few scraps of
animal hide and that some safari hunters had captured me. The hunters put me in cage so
they could take me back to civilization and put me on display in a carnival, a curiosity
for people to gawk at.
I would sometimes lie on my bedroom floor and go into these fantasies. Before lying
down I would strip naked and shave my whole body, including my pussy. Sometimes I'd
oil myself from head to toe.
I'd lie there with my eyes closed, mumbling, begging unseen tormentors for
mercy. I'd put my finger in my pussy and writhe through one orgasm after another. Oh,
how I loved it!
I was a teenager who needed guidance, and it was my own mother who made sure I got
it. She didn't take me into servitude herself, but she steered me to the people who
could give me what I needed.
On one warm spring afternoon, I stripped and shaved as soon as I got home from
school. I was going to lie on the floor and fantasize and play with pussy. Mom was at
work, and I left my bedroom door open.
I was rolling around on the floor with my eyes closed, my finger in my pussy, when
I heard a voice. My mother had come home early, but I was so lost in what I was doing that
I didn't hear her coming into house. When she first spoke to me, I thought her voice
was a part of my fantasy, but when I opened my eyes, I saw my mother standing just inside
my bedroom door!
I was shamed beyond words and didn't know what to say. I took my finger out of
my pussy and got up into a kneeling pose. I could feel my entire body blushing, and I put
a hand over and my puss and crossed an arm over my breasts, trying desperately to cover
myself, even if just a little.
"There's no reason for you to be embarrassed, Tanni," Mom said
gently. "You're experiencing what many Chinese girls went through in the ancient
times. With some of us, those feelings are still very strong. I went through the same
thing when I was your age, but there was no one around to help me. I'm going to see
that get what you truly need. I know the right person, and you'd be very surprised at
who it is."
With that said, she gave me a kindly smile and left the room. After she was gone, I
remained in that kneeling pose for several minutes, wondering what she'd meant by
helping me.
And it was during that spring that my English teacher, Miss Rayburn, started
keeping me after school for what she called "special detention." I was the only
girl who had to stay for this detention. Miss Rayburn would take me to an empty classroom
and make me sit in a straight, wooden chair, no desk. And I wasn't allowed to read or
study. I had to just sit there with my hands in my lap. She would sit at the
teacher's desk and do paperwork, occasionally looking up and checking on me.
These special detention sessions gave me an odd thrill. It made my puss tingle to
have Miss Rayburn in control of me. In many ways she was a kind woman, though she was
sometimes very strict with me, making sure I worked up to my potential. Because of her, I
was on the honor roll.
On one day, when I had to stay for detention, I was just about to sit down in that
little chair when Miss Rayburn told me to remove my shoes. We girls were allowed to wear
any kind of shoes we liked, and that spring I often wore my leather sandals. Those sandals
tiny, the soles and straps so very thin.
After I'd taken the sandals off, I sat down, hands in my lap.
"Place your feet together," Miss Rayburn said, "and I don't
want to hear one word out of you. This detention is for punishment, you know."
I was being punished, punished and forced to just sit there in my bare feet!
Just before my detention time was up, Miss Rayburn came over and stood in front of
me, arms folded. "Look at me, Tanni," she said.
I looked up and saw that she was smiling. "You're not a bad girl at
all," she said. "You're just a girl who needs guidance. I know your mother,
and she and I have had a conference. We're going to have another meeting that will
include you, and we're going to see that you get what you need. I'm going to
take very good care of you, little girl."
I had no idea of what she was talking about, but having her speak to me that way
gave me a curious thrill. I sensed that my life was about to take a very exciting turn,
and I was sure right on that one.
Miss Rayburn stepped closer and took the hem of my skirt in her fingers. "Your
skirt is certainly short," she said slowly.
"I'm just following the school rules, ma'am," I answered. It
was true. Academy regulations stipulated that our skirts could only hang four inches below
the rump.
"Yes, I know that," she chuckled, "but you enjoy going about with
your legs so bare, don't you?"
Her question made me giggle. "Maybe so," I said, "though I get a bit
chilly in winter."
She stood behind me, and I stiffened when she put her hands on my shoulders.
"I believe I'll release you from detention a little early today," she said
as she massaged my shoulders. "It's a lovely day. I'll drive you
home."
I was so shaken that I forgot to put my sandals back on. Or maybe I didn't
really want to. And I was happy to have Miss Rayburn drive me home. The spring air was
warm, the world beautiful and so alive, the trees and flowers blooming, people mowing
their lawns. And the juice in my pussy was boiling.
I was sort of in awe of Miss Rayburn. She was perhaps 40 or so, and she was
beautiful in a regal sort of way, her hair short and blonde, stylishly coiffed, her
clothes very fashionable.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she dropped me off. I looked at
her, and she gave me kind smile, a smile that said she cared about me.
As soon as I got inside my house, I rushed to my room, stripped nude and threw
myself on the floor. As I masturbated, I thought of sitting in that chair in my bare feet
while Miss Rayburn massaged my shoulders. And I said her name out loud as orgasms started
rushing through my pussy!
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