Along Comes Mary
By Sonofjack, sonofjackwell@gmail.com
A teacher is swept off his feet by his petite but strong student.


This is adult material and should not be read by anyone under the age of
eighteen.

This is a story I wrote on commission based on an idea provided by dsax40s who
assures me that he is a VERY SATISFIED customer. I enjoy writing commission
stories so if you have an idea that you would like to see developed into a
full story, email me at sonofjackwell@gmail.com

Even if you do not wish to commission a story, I'm interested in any comments
you have. I always love to hear from fellow fans of strong girl fiction.
Send any comments to sonofjackwell@gmail.com

Mary is sitting at my dining room table eating food from a plate. I am
on my hands and knees by her side looking up at her. She points at the full
dog dish on the floor beside her.

"Get down there and eat you're supper, Doggie!"

My God, how did thing ever get so far? Here I am on my hands and knees
naked except for the dog collar I'm wearing and eating my food out of a bowl
on the floor. How did things ever get to this point?

"Be a good doggie and eat all you food or Master will have to punish
you," she says playfully but then adds with a hint of menace, "and you know I
can."

She's right. I DO know that she can. Here I am a grown man-I'm
forty-two for Christ's sake-and I'm taking orders from an eighteen year old
girl who's half my size.

"That's right, Doggie, eat up all your yummy food so Master won't have
to spank your cute little bottom."

Why am I going along with this? Aw, who am I kidding? I'm going along
with this because I'm afraid that if I don't she'll do exactly what she says
she'll do. She'll spank my bottom. We both know that she can do it whenever
she wants, and there's not a damn thing I can do to stop her. Her power - her
strength - is just too great. Despite the fact that I'm several inches taller
and outweigh her by at least forty-five pounds, she's shown me in almost every
conceivable way that I'm a weakling compared to her.

"That's a good dog! You ate all your food. Now crawl over here and
lick Master's feet."

I do of course. I make sure I cover her pretty little feet with my
tongue the way I know he likes it. I make sure to lick between her toes.
There's no denying it; she owns me.

"Yes, you're a good doggie aren't you? You like to lick Master's feet
don't you?"

I smile and look up at her with my eyes making sure to keep my head
bowed like a good doggie. I make whining dog noises in the affirmative. When
I'm wearing the dog collar I'm not allowed to speak. That's one of my
master's rules, and I know better that to disobey ANY of her rules.

She holds out a morsel of food. "Here, Doggie, beg!"

I rise up on my knees and put my front "paws" out in a begging posture.
I stick out my tongue and pant like a dog. Her dog. I follow her hand that
is holding the scrap of food with just my eyes as she waves it up and down and
from side to side. I'm trying to hold my position still like a good dog. I
want to please my master. She holds the food just out of reach.

"Good Doggie, good Doggie," she says as she lowers the small piece of
food into my waiting mouth. "That's a good doggie," she repeats. "Come here,
Doggie," she says as she pats her lap with her delicate hand, "Put your head
in Master's lap so she can pet you head and scratch behinds your ears. Later
if you're a very good doggie, Master will let you cover her ass with doggie
kisses!"

I lower my head into her awaiting lap. She runs her slim fingers though
my hair. As promised she scratches behind my ears. I feel perfectly
satisfied. I must be a very good doggie so that later I can cover her sweet,
round, firm ass and whatever other parts of her body she so desires with
doggie kisses. How did this happen? How did I get to be this . . . lucky?

I guess to explain that I have to explain who I am and how I first met
Mary. My name is Doug Steinbrenner, but most of my students call me Mr. S. I
teach high school. I'm one of those teachers who is liked by most of his
students because my class is pretty easy, and I'm pretty easy-going. I crack
bad jokes often and funny jokes occasionally. I try my best to make my social
studies classes interesting and insightful, and I do my best not to take it
personally when most of my students couldn't care less.

However, I DO take my job seriously, so when I run across a student who
does seem to be interested and engaged, I tend to like that student more than
most. I almost instantly fell in love with Mary Duncan. Now when I say "I
fell in love" I should clarify that I don't mean the romantic kind of love
between a man and a woman-that would come later. I mean that as a teacher, I
immediately felt a strong liking for her.

When I first met her as a ninth grader, Mary was beyond shy. I would
say that she was downright mousy. But right away I noticed a sparkle in her
eye and a certain delight in her crooked, shy grin that told me that she
noticed everything and that she was amused by most of it. She was the kind of
sweet girl that everyone urged to "get out of her shell."

As a student in my ninth grade geography classes, Mary was a little
brighter and more alert than the rest. By this I mean that she got most of my
jokes. Whereas other students might not have even noticed I made a joke, I
could always count on Mary to look up at me and smile her shy, engaging
smile. She didn't ask a lot of questions or make a lot of comments in class,
but when she did, they were always a little more discerning and astute.

Of course, she made straight A's on all of her tests.

I should also disclose that when Mary was a ninth grader, she had a
crush on me, and I knew it. Even though she didn't talk a lot, she always
went out of her way to smile and say hello whenever she came into class or saw
me in the hall. I knew the signs of a school-girl crush and Mary definitely
had them. Whenever she said hello to me, and especially when I greeted her
back, you could practically see the little hearts fluttering around her head.

I don't want to sound too egotistical, but she wasn't the first student
to ever have a crush on me. It's not like I'm Brad Pitt or anything, but I'm
a fairly good looking guy. I'm fairly tall, I still have all my hair and I
try to stay in shape. I can still do ten push-ups if you hold a gun to my
head and at least twice that many sit-ups. I walk and do calisthenics. I
watch what I eat.  I'll admit that I've added a few pounds and a few gray
hairs. Even still, every few years or so one of my students - usually shy
ones like Mary-will develop little crushes on me.

I'll admit it's flattering when a student gets a crush on me, but it's
also a minefield. The potential for things to go wrong is just too great.
That's why I generally maintain a clear line of demarcation between my
students and myself. I don't treat them like we're friends. I don't invite
them over to my house. I don't even accept their friendship requests on
Facebook.

Until recently, that is . . . .

It's not that I've never been attracted to any of my female students.
Any healthy, heterosexual male high school teacher who claims that is either a
liar or a better man than I. Let's face it, there are a lot of gorgeous high
school girls out there. However, until recently I just didn't see any way
that the benefits of such a liaison could possibly outweigh the negatives.
That was before the extraordinary situation I recently found myself in.

To be honest, when I had Mary as a ninth grade student, I didn't have
any romantic or sexual feeling about her. For one thing, as shallow as this
may sound, even though she had a pretty face and a pleasant personality, she
had the body of a pre-adolescent boy back then.

After Mary passed my class and moved on, I would see her in the halls
occasionally. She would always say hello to me, and blush slightly when I
said hello back. After awhile, though, the little hearts that fluttered
around her head whenever I spoke to her faded away.

However because I liked her, I made an effort to kept track of Mary's
progress. It surprised me when I found out that during her tenth grade year
she went out for the school gymnastics team. I was downright floored when I
discovered that by her junior year she had developed into the star of the
team. She never struck me as the athletic type.

I asked the girl's gymnastics coach about her. I expressed my surprise
that the quiet little girl I knew as a freshman was a star athlete. The coach
assured me that Mary had become an accomplished gymnast almost entirely
through sheer willpower. According to her, the transformation began during
the summer between her ninth and tenth grade years. She said that Mary began
working hard that summer and never let up. As a result, she quickly passed
over girls who started working at gymnastics when they were barely out of
diapers.

I told the coach that I was not surprised to find out what a hard worker
Mary was. As the coach and I talked, it became clear that the two of us were
something of a two-person Mary Duncan admiration society. I told her how much
I liked having Mary in class, and she told me how much she admired Mary's hard
work ethic and determination. She also mentioned that Mary worked out a lot
with weights. When I seemed astonished at this, the coach said, "You'd be
amazed at the amount of strength Mary has in that little body."

After talking to the coach, I made a point of going to our school's next
gymnastics meet. I was amazed at how strong, fit, and graceful Mary had
become. She had grown a few inches since her freshman year, but she was still
petite. According to the program she was 5'2". She had clearly grown in
other ways as well. She had that solid, compact and yet lean look that female
gymnasts often have. She looked like her body had about 1% body fat. Her
arms were well toned with clearly defined muscles that looked slightly out of
proportion to her small frame.

I don't mean to say that Mary looked unfeminine - far from it. In fact,
she looked so feminine, that it made me a little uncomfortable. The muscles
in her legs looked downright massive for her size, and I have to admit, I did
notice that she developed a tight, round, firm gymnast's derriere. I noticed
it, and I didn't hate it. She had also developed modest, firm breasts that
were well proportioned to her petite frame. She wore her shoulder length
light brown hair in a ponytail.

All-in-all I would say that the mousy ninth grader I knew had
transformed into a pretty eleventh grader.

What impressed me even more than her growth and beauty however was
Mary's athleticism. She won the All-Around competition which consisted of the
vault, the uneven parallel bars, the balance beam and the floor exercise. She
won each individual event as well except for the balance beam for which she
placed second. Her floor exercise was particularly masterful, and her vault
was so spectacular that for a split second it seemed as if she was going to
take flight. I was truly electrified - maybe even a little turned on - by her
outstanding performance.

The next day when I saw Mary in the halls after school, I made a point
of telling her that I attended the meet and that I was very impressed by her
talent. I could tell that she was sincerely gratified to find out that I went
to see her. It might have just been my imagination, but for a second there, I
even thought I glimpsed a brief flutter of those familiar hearts dancing
around her head.

Mary went on to become the All-Around high school state gymnastics
champion during her junior year. 

When the next school year started I was pleased to discover that Mary
would be a student in my advanced placement world history class. On the first
day of school I stood in the hallway near the door of my classroom and greeted
the students as they straggled into class. Many faces were familiar since I'd
had a lot of them as freshmen. When I saw Mary walking towards my class, I
was slightly taken aback to see that she was walking with a boy.

The boy was Jeff Banister who was not one of my favorite kids. In fact,
I could hardly stand him. He was one of those people who strutted around
acting as if life was a competition and that he was winning. He seemed to
have this attitude for no discernible reason; he wasn't that smart, very good
looking or particularly personable. What he did have in abundance was the
kind of arrogance that will often fool a fair number of people.

Another thing about Jeff that really got on my nerves was that even on
warm days he wore his school letter jacket. This was despite the fact that no
one could figure out what he did to earn a school letter. As far as could be
determined, Jeff lettered in being the principal's kid. That's right; he was
the boss's son. Because of this many of the teachers gave him the special
treatment that Jeff seemed to think he was entitled to.

I couldn't believe a talented, smart and pretty girl like Mary would be
interested in the jerk like Jeff. I figured that they must have just been
headed in the same direction. When they walked past me Mary flashed me the
same sweet, shy smile I was familiar with and said, "Hi, Mr. S, I sure am
looking forward to having you for class again this year."

"I can hardly wait to get started," I said back.

Jeff made some smartass under the breath comment just out of the range
of my hearing. This was exactly the reason I didn't like this kid. If he had
something to say - even something negative - at least I might have had some
respect for him if he just came right out and said it. Hell, if it was a
funny smartass comment I might have even appreciated the humor. However, this
was not his way. No guts, no wit""just a black hole of negativity. It HAD to
be a fluke that Mary was walking with him, I thought to myself.

Over the course of the next couple of days, I quietly made some
inquiries and discovered that Mary and Jeff Bannister were indeed going out.
This bothered me a little more that it should have. After all, I'd seen it
happen before. You take a girl like Mary who has everything in the world
going her except that maybe she is a little lacking in self-esteem. She gets
flattered by the attention paid to her by some jerk like Jeff and she
misinterprets those feelings as "luv". Under the circumstances, all I could
do was hope that she came to her senses before she got too badly hurt.

In the meantime, it made me sick to see them together.

Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long. About a month into school
during my off hour, I was taking a little stroll around campus. I often did
this as a way of getting some exercise. Whenever I took one of my strolls, I
made a point of checking a little area of the school that has been known for
years as "isolation point". All it really is a secluded little alcove on our
campus that is surrounded by walls on three sides and at an odd angle to the
rest of the schoolyard on its open side. As a result, it's hard to see into
unless one is looking directly in. To top it off, there are high bushes on
the corner of its most accessible entrance, and for some odd reason someone in
charge put a bench back there.

It's almost as if someone wanted to provide the students with a private
place to make out.

Occasionally on my little strolls, I find students back there when
they're supposed to be in class. Most the time it's just a couple of students
slacking. A couple of times I've caught students smoking or couples making
out. Generally speaking I'm pretty lenient about it and just send the
students back to class. If they give me a hard time, I report them to the
office.

Anyway, as I walked up to isolation point this day, I could hear two
students talking. For people who were supposed to be hiding they were talking
rather loudly. As I turned the corner to see who it was, I was shocked to see
Mary and Jeff standing in front of the bench apparently in the middle of a
heated discussion. Before either one of them spotted me, I ducked back behind
the bushes. I should have sent them back to class right away, but first I
wanted to see this. I was hoping to witness Mary giving Jeff the boot.

Mary said, "I can't believe you made out with that slut Katrina at the
party last Friday!"

"What was I supposed to do? You weren't there," Jeff said with his
usually bored, above-it-all intonation.

"You were supposed to be a loyal boyfriend and a decent human being,"
Mary replied.

"Yeah, yeah, I was bored so I did it. Big Deal." I was appalled at
what a supreme prick he was being.

"And you made out with her in front of all my friends. How is that
supposed to make me feel?" Mary asked. Even from where I stood I could see
her eyes were beginning to tear up.

"Your friends? Those are MY friends; they only let you hang around
because you're with me." It took about all of my self-control to not walk
over there and punch that asshole right in the nose! The strange thing about
it, though, was that he was probably right. In the strange world of the high
school pecking order, Jeff was popular and Mary was not.

Mary looked at him with eyes ablaze. "I'm warning you, Jeff, if you
ever do anything like this again-"

"Yeah? What are you going to do about it? Nothing, that's what!
Without me you're nothing and nobody at this school. So yeah, I'll make out
with Katrina or anyone else I feel like making out with, and you won't do
anything!"

Mary jumped up onto the bench. "I'm warning you, Jeff, I'll-"

"You won't do anything!" he repeated.

Mary reached down and grabbed Jeff by the lapels of his letter jacket
and hoisted him off the ground! Even though I figured that Mary couldn't have
weighed more than 115 pounds dripping wet, she lifted the much bigger boy (I'd
say Jeff weighed around 160 pounds) completely off the ground! Furthermore,
she did so without apparent strain or effort!

Mary pulled Jeff close to her face and asked, "What makes you so sure?"

 "P-p-put m-me down!" Jeff cried. At this point, I really should have
intervened. I would have if it wasn't for the fact that I was momentarily
stunned. Besides, I was also enjoying myself immensely.

"What if I don't want to?" Mary chided him. "What are you going to do
about it?" she asked as she gave him a rough shake. A strange thing happened
to me as I watched Mary easily womanhandling Jeff. I started to get turned on
- VERY turned on. The site of that petite, pretty girl lifting a much larger
boy really got me hot. That's when I noticed the bulge in the sleeve of the
t-shirt Mary was wearing. It was stretched almost to the ripping point by
Mary's flexed bicep. The bottom of her pretty muscle was peeking out
enticingly from the bottom of her sleeve.

Then I noticed Mary wrinkled up her nose. She looked down at Jeff's
crotch and said, "Oh my God! Did you just wet yourself?" I looked down at
the bottom of Jeff pant legs and sure enough there was liquid dripping from
the left one. I couldn't help but smile. It's possible I was enjoying this a
little too much.

 Now it was Jeff's turn for his eyes to fill with tears. "If you don't
put me down right now, I'm going to tell my dad," he threatened. I figured
now was a good time for me to make my presence known so I ducked back around
the corner and cleared my throat obnoxiously loudly.

When I came ambling around the corner as if I'd just arrived Jeff was
back on the ground, but Mary was still standing on the bench. I looked at the
two of them and said, "You two know you're not supposed to be here during
class time."

"Sorry, Mr. S," Mary said. Jeff said nothing.

I asked "What are you doing standing on that bench, Mary?"

"Nothing, Mr. S," she said, but I noticed she flashed a threatening
glare at Jeff, and the fear - and tears - in his eyes were impossible to miss.

"And what's that smell?" I asked referring to the urine odor coming from
Jeff.

"Jeff had a little . . . accident," Mary said as she stifled a girlish
giggle.

"Mary, you better go to class now," I said magnanimously. "Jeff, I
suggest you check out and go home so that you can change your trousers."

After witnessing Mary's display of strength and feeling the effect it
had on me, I saw Mary in a whole new light. Part of me couldn't wait to see
her again - to be in her presence. Another part of me was a little afraid of
the effect she was having on me. I'd never felt THIS attracted to a student
before.

That's why I was both thrilled and apprehensive when Mary stopped by my
class after school that day. I was sitting at my desk when she poked her head
into my room. "Mr. S, can I talk to you for a second?" She sounded so sweet
and a little nervous; what could I do? I couldn't exactly tell her I didn't
want to see her because I was so turned on and maybe a little afraid of her.
I waved her in.

"I just wanted to thank you for not turning me in to the office for
being in a restricted area during class time," she said in a cute, vulnerable
voice.

"That's okay," I said. She lingered in front of my desk looking as if
she had something else to say. "Is there something else, Mary?"

"Mr. S, did you . . . see what was going on between Jeff and me?"

I didn't want to admit what I saw because I was afraid she would see how
turned on I was by her strength. "It sounded to me like you and Jeff were
having an argument," I said evasively.

"Yes, we were," she admitted.

  I couldn't hold back from saying, "I know it's none of my business,
Mary, but why are you going out with such a . . . ." I struggle for the
appropriate word.

"Prick?" Mary offered.

"Well . . . I might not have used that word," I lied because that was
EXACTLY the word I wanted to use, "But, yes."

"It's hard to explain, Mr. S, but Jeff is the only boy who's ever showed
any interest in me."

"Well, then there's something wrong with the boys around here," I said.
She gave me a look that said she was equal parts flattered and surprised. "I
mean it, Mary, you're smart and pretty and perceptive and talented. If the
boys around here are not mature enough to see that, then you're better off
waiting until they catch up to you," I insisted.

"Yes, but there's another reason why the boys aren't interested," she
said.

"And why is that," I scoffed.

"These,' she said as she did a double arm flex. Immediately two large,
hard biceps exploded onto her arms. They were perfectly peaked and at least
fifteen inches. They were the loveliest muscles I'd ever seen. They looked
hard as granite under skin that was as smooth as satin. Almost as quickly as
her biceps appeared, I could feel a stirring in my crotch. Beads of sweat
formed on my forehead.

Trying to regain my composure and probably failing badly I said, "So
what? A lot of guys like women who are in shape."

"In shape is one thing, but most guys don't want to date girls who are
stronger than them."

"That's just they're frail male egos," I told her, "Trust me, a lot of
guys would jump at the chance to go out with a girl like you."

Mary looked at me strangely and asked, "Are you okay, Mr. S?"

"Yes," I replied, "Why do you ask?"

"You look sort of . . I don't know . . flushed, and you're sweating a
lot," she said.

"I'm fine, I'm just, uh, a little warm," I said unconvincingly

Mary went back to our previous topic. "Would you ever go out with a
girl who was stronger than you?"

Part of me wanted to tell her that I would love to date a girl like
her. Hell, part of me wanted to get down on my knees and beg her to go out
with me. However, there was also the part of me that said it was
inappropriate for a high school teacher to have romantic feelings let alone a
relationship with one of his students. This part of me told me to end this
conversation and get out of there quickly.

"Yes, I would," I assured her, "If I liked her." Then I quickly excused
myself and made my cowardly escape. For the rest of the day I thought about
Mary. All night long I thought about Mary. The only way I could get the
picture of her lifting Jeff out of my head was to picture her flexing her
magnificent biceps. I reminded myself repeatedly that it was wrong for me to
obsess about a student this way, but I just couldn't stop. I even found
myself wondering where she and I would be today if I had encouraged her
earlier schoolgirl crush on me.

The next day when it came time for my AP world history class, I noticed
that Mary and Jeff did not come in together. Even though I was happy to see
this, Mary seemed down. I wanted to say some words of encouragement, but I
didn't know what exactly. It broke my heart to see her looking so sad.

During my off hour, I used my classroom computer to check the official
school records. I wanted to find out how old Mary was. "Hmmm, she's
eighteen. Whattayaknowaboutthat?" I said to myself. I think I might have
even convinced myself that I wasn't checking to see whether or not she was
legal. However, legal or not, she was still my student. 

Mary stopped by my room again after school that day. Again she poked
her head in my room and asked if we could talk. Again I waved her in. She
started to close the door. "Keep the door open, please," I requested.

I was seated behind my desk. Mary walked over in front of it. "I . . .
I wanted to thank you, Mr. S for the talk we had yesterday. Jeff and I broke
up last night."

Even though I considered this GREAT NEWS, I didn't want to be held
responsible. "I didn't tell you to break up with him, Mary. Not exactly
anyway."

"Oh, I know, Mr. S. Anyway, he broke up with me before I had a chance
to break up with him."

"Yes! Yes! YES!" I was shouting on the inside. To Mary I said, "Well,
it's probably for the best."

"Mr. S, I thought a lot about what you said about waiting for a boy who
would really appreciate who I am. I decided that was good advice."

"I'm glad to hear that, Mary."

"Well, after all, Mr. S, the last time I took your advice it worked out
really well."

"What do you mean, Mary?"

"At the end of my ninth grade year, you gave the class a little speech
about pursuing our dreams. You said that even if we tried and failed there
was nobility in the attempt."

"Yes, I remember saying that." This was sort of a standard speech I
gave to most of my freshman classes. To be honest, I was not sure anyone ever
particularly listened. "How did that advice turn out well for you?" I asked.

"I always wanted to try gymnastics, but I never had the courage. I
decided right then and there to begin working out that summer and seeing where
it led."

I was stunned! "You mean to tell me . . . "

"Yes, Mr. S, if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have started working
out and training to be a gymnast. I wouldn't be the defending state
gymnastics champ, and I wouldn't have these." Mary flexed her arm muscles
again just like she had the day before. The vision of her powerful, pretty
feminine muscles immediately made my dick go hard. The expression on my face
must have also betrayed the fact that I was turned on because Mary asked me,
"You . . . you like my muscles don't you, Mr. S?"

Before I could stop myself, I answered, "Yes."

Just then a loud commotion in the hall seemed to bring both of us out of
the trance we were beginning to fall into. I couldn't stand up without
exposing my now fully erect penis, but I told Mary that I had some work to do
and that she better run along now.

"Okay, Mr. S, see you tomorrow," she said in a cheerful voice as she
practically skipped out of the classroom.

That night I obsessed over Mary even more. First there was the
revelation that I inspired her to develop her remarkable physique. How cool
was that? Then there was the instant arousal I felt at the mere sight of
Mary's beautiful and powerful biceps. I found myself longing to know just how
strong she was. I was sure she was stronger than me. Was it possible that a
pretty, 5'2" girl like Mary be the strongest student at our school? Just the
thought of it sent an erotic tingle through my entire body.

Then there was the question she asked me about liking her muscles. Did
she suspect? She always was a very perceptive girl. Had she figured out that
I'd developed an enormous attraction towards her? I carefully went over and
analyzed our conversation in my head again and again. Did she know?

Finally when six AM rolled around, and I realized I hadn't slept all
night, I did something I very rarely do. I called in sick and took that
Friday off. That day I laid around the house in my bathrobe and boxer shorts,
I watched daytime TV, and I tried not to think about my growing obsession with
Mary Duncan. At this last task I failed miserably.

I was still in my bathrobe and boxers at around seven PM when I heard a
knock on my front door. When I opened it, I was flabbergasted to see Mary,
the object of my growing desire, standing on my front stoop. I just stood
there and stared at her for a couple of seconds.

"Aren't you glad to see me, Mister S?" she asked.

"Well sure, Mary," I said trying to sound casual. Ecstatic would have
been a much better word - so would nervous. We lived in a relatively small
town and just the sight of a high school girl standing on the front stoop of a
single male teacher's house was enough to get tongues wagging. I stuck my
head out the door and subtly looked around.

 "Don't worry, no one saw me come here," Mary said. Then without
waiting to be invited she announced, "I'm coming in." She stepped towards the
door, and I stepped out of her way. "So, why weren't you at school today?"
she asked as if she already knew the answer.

"I wasn't feeling well," I said feebly. Then remembering that I was
still wearing just my bathrobe and boxer shorts I said, "Uh, Mary, I'm hardly
dressed to receive company."

"You look fine to me, Mr. S." I wasn't sure if she meant what I was
wearing or that I didn't look sick. Then she added, "You always look fine to
me." Was she . . . ? Could she be flirting with me? My heart gave a little
flutter as I realized that I hoped she was.

"Mind if I take this off?" Mary asked. Before I could respond, she
unzipped her hoodie and took it off. Underneath she was wearing a tank top
that exposed her muscular arms and didn't quite reach far enough to cover her
ripped abs. The nipples of her firm, b-cup breasts poked the material making
it clear that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Memorized by how sexy she looked I mumbled, "Sure, have a seat."

"Show me your house first." I'd never seen Mary this "take charge"
before, but I liked it.

"Okay . . . this is the living room," I started the tour. She followed
me into the kitchen. "This is the kitchen," I explained. Sitting on the
kitchen table was a half eaten bowl of soup.

"Did I interrupt your dinner?" Mary asked.

"It's no big deal," I assured her.

"No, finish your soup," Mary said.

"Really, it's no big deal," I insisted.

"Mr. S, if you're not feeling well, you should eat."

"I'll finish it later," I said.

"Mr. S, am I going to have to get rough with you?" she joked.

I wanted to shake my head vigorously in the affirmative, but instead all
I said was, "Uh, can I get you anything?"

"No thank you. I've already eaten."

I sat down and began to finish my soup. Somehow doing what Mary told me
to do seemed natural. She sat down at the table next to me. As I ate, she
began to yawn/stretch. She raised her arms over her head with her palms
towards the ceiling. As she did, her tank top pulled up and fully revealed
her hard, six pack abs. Then she began to bring her arms down flexing them as
she did. She then curled her fists and for the third time showed me her
double flexed bicep pose.

I couldn't tell if she knew how much seeing her stretch and flex like
this turned me on. I couldn't tell if she was toying with me until she said
in a sexy whisper, "You do like my muscles, don't you Mr. S." Even though it
was worded as a question, it was clearly a statement. She knew that I liked
her muscles, and I knew that she knew it. My dick became rock hard.
Considering what I was wearing, this was impossible to conceal. I didn't
care. I wanted her to see it. I wanted her to know.

"Mr. S, would you like to know how strong I am?" she asked.

"Yes," I said transfixed.

"One day after school I was in the weight room out lifting all the boys
when Curt Shuster challenged me to an arm wrestling contest." Curt Shuster
was our high school's all-state star defensive linesman and the biggest kid in
school. He was at least 6'4" or 6'5", and he must have weighed 270, 280
pounds of mostly solid muscle..

"What happened?" I asked.

"Curt did pretty well. It took me almost fifteen seconds to defeat
him." When she said this, I felt my hard dick throb beneath my robe. "Mr. S,
would you like to arm wrestle with me?"

"Yes, please."

"Ooh, I like that. Say, 'Please' again."

"Please," I repeated.

"Say 'Pretty please'," she commanded

"Pretty please," I obeyed.

"Say 'Pretty please arm wrestle me, Mary'."

"Pretty please arm wrestle me, Mary," I begged.

"If I do arm wrestle you, I'm going to beat you." She warned.

"I-I'm counting on that," I said, beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

"I'll beat you so easily and decisively with my strong muscles that it
might be humiliating for you."

"Please, Mary, please arm wrestle me; I want to feel your strength. I
want to feel your . . . ."

"My what?" she asked.

"Your superiority."

"If you insist," she said with a triumphant smile. Mary put her arm up
on the table. I took her hand in mine. Her hand was so little compared to
mine, and yet I could feel the power in her grip. We placed our elbows on the
table and shifted into position. Looking me straight in the eye, Mary said,
"Whenever you're ready, Mr. S."

I began to push - gently at first but progressively harder. Soon I was
pushing with all of my might. So far, Mary's arm hadn't moved a millimeter
even though she was making no discernible effort. She smiled back at me
oozing confidence and repeated, "Whenever you're ready, Mr. S."

"I'm pushing!" I grunted.

"Seriously? That's the best you've got?" she asked with a girlish
giggle. I didn't answer. "Maybe you'd better use both hands," she suggested.

I put my other hand on top of our locked hands and pushed and pulled
with all my might. I managed to move her hand about an inch before she halted
my progress. "That more like it," she smiled. Then with her bicep bulging
with effort, she began moving my hands in the other direction. It took effort
on her part, and it took her almost twenty seconds, but she slammed both of my
hands down on the table.

"I'm a lot stronger than you, Mr. S," she said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, . . you are," I agreed.

"Mr. S, that day you caught Jeff and me at isolation point, you saw me
lift Jeff up by his collar didn't you?"

"Yes, Mary, I did."

"That turned you on, didn't it, Mr. S?"

"Yes, Mary, it did. A lot," I said. I was glad to admit it. I wanted
more than anything for her to know.

"You'd like for me to do that to you, wouldn't you, Mr. S?"

"Y-yes, Mary,' I said.

"Say please," she demanded.

"P-please, Mary."

"'P-please' what?" she mocked.

"Please, pick me up by the collar," I said.

"How badly do you want to see me lift you like that, Mr. S?"

"Enough to beg," I answered truthfully. Not only was I willing to beg,
I wanted her to MAKE me beg.

"Would you grovel and kiss my feet to get me to do it," she asked.

"Yes."

"Maybe later," she said. I actually found myself disappointed that she
didn't make me grovel and kiss her feet. I could tell that she didn't do it
because she knew I wanted her to. She wanted to keep me guessing. She wanted
to let me know that she was calling the shots which of course made me want to
beg her even more.

She stood up and directed me to do the same. When I did, my robe fell
open and my erect penis stuck through the hole in my boxer shorts. Mary
looked at my cock and licked her lips and whispered, "Yummy!" almost too
quietly for me to hear it. Then she stood on the kitchen chair and beckoned
me with her index finger. She grabbed the lapels of my bathrobe tightly and
easily lifted me off the floor. I could see her biceps expanding. She lifted
me up so that we were face to face. She pulled me into her so that our lips
were almost touching. Her lips were full and pouting. "Would you like to
kiss me, Mr. S?"

This was unbelievable. I was dangling in midair being held aloft by a
sexy eighteen year old powerhouse who had the strength the hold me there while
she tempted me with her luscious lips. "Y-yes, Mary," I replied.

"You know what you have to say, don't you, Mr. S?"

"Please?" I suggested.

"That's right, Mr. S, you have to say 'please'; otherwise, I just won't
kiss you," the strong and newly awakened temptress demanded.

"Please, please, Mary," I begged.

"Are you begging me to kiss you, Mr. S?"

I marveled at how easily she continued to hold me in the air like this
while she toyed with me. How could she be so strong and yet so seductive and
girlish at the same time? "Yes, Mary, I'm begging you to kiss me, please,
kiss me Mary, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," she said as she pulled me to her mouth.
She began to kiss me, and I began to kiss back. I could feel her tongue
penetrating my mouth. I could feel it intertwining with, overpowering my
tongue. I could hear her moaning seductively.

She gently lowered me to the floor and jumped down from the chair. She
wrapped her slender, strong fingers around my rock-hard penis. "M-m-mary,
this is wrong," I halfheartedly protested, "You're my student."

"Not here, not now, I'm not," she stated with an unquestionable
authority. "Is this difficult for you, Mr. S?" she asked. I mumbled
affirmatively. "And yet you want it to happen." Even though she said this as
a statement and not a question, I nodded yes. "Then I'll just have to take
charge," she said as she tightened her grip on my dick. "From now on you'll
do as I say, Mr. S. In fact, whenever we're alone like this, the 'S' in Mr.
S, stands for 'Slave'. You're my love slave now, is that understood, Mr. S?"

"Yes, Mary," I answered quietly.

"IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" she said more forcefully.

 "Yes, Mary," I said louder.

She looked at me with a cat-like gaze. I could tell that she was
enjoying this immensely. "I love this feeling of control," she confessed. "I
love this feeling that you want me so bad that you'll do anything I say. You
will do anything I say, won't you, Mr. S."

 "Y-y-yes, Mary." I was admitting it to myself as much as I was
admitting it to her.

"Is it because you desire me so much . . . Or because you're afraid of
my awesome strength?"

I thought for a few seconds before answering, "Both."

Mary licked her lips seductively and said, "Good! Call me Master."

"Yes, Master," I replied totally giving in to my desire, my need, to be
dominated by her.

Mary picked me up in her strong arms and said, "Which way to the
bedroom?" I pointed in the right direction, and my strong, sexy master
carried me to my bedroom and fucked me until morning.

The next morning while Mary was taking a shower, I sat at my kitchen
table drinking orange juice and wondering what I had gotten myself into. One
thing I was sure of, whatever it was I wanted more.

Mary came in wearing one of my dress shirts and nothing else. She
looked so scrumptious in my over-sized shirt that I just wanted to eat her
up. She sat in my lap and wrapped her powerful arms and legs around me.
"Good morning, Mr. S," she said as she kissed me hard. She held me so tightly
that I could barely move. This was not a problem though since there was no
place I'd rather be.

I noticed when she was sitting in my lap that she weighed more than I
thought. She weighed at least 140 pounds. This puzzled me until I realized
that the added weight must have come from her dense muscle mass.

"Uh, Mary, after last night, I guess you don't have to call me Mr. S
anymore."

"Are you forgetting who's in charge around here?" she asked playfully.
"Besides, I told you last night that 'S' stands for 'Slave'."

"You're not serious, are you?" I asked, hoping that she was.

"You better believe it," she said then added, "I didn't hear you
complaining about following my orders in bed last night."

"I never imagined you could be this aggressive," I told her.

"I know right; it's like a change came over me after I lifted Jeff by
his jacket that day. Seeing the fear in his eyes and knowing I caused it gave
me such a feeling of power. I liked that feeling, Mr. S. I liked it a
lot." Mary looked thoughtful for a second. "You're afraid of me too aren't
you, Mr. S?"

"A little," I answered.

Mary flexed her impressive, hard, strong bicep in my face. "Only a
little?" she asked with a slight hint of menace in her voice.

Suddenly recognizing that perhaps I had more to fear than I thought, I
asked, "Why? You wouldn't actually hurt me would you?"

"I might," she said sort of playfully and sort of not.

"But why? I thought you liked me," I said.

"I do; I like you a lot, but that doesn't mean I won't hurt you if you
piss me off."

"Note to self:" I said, "Make sure not to piss off Mary." I said this
as if I was going along with the joke. But honestly, I didn't know if she was
joking or not. I'm not sure if she knew either. Strangely, not knowing
didn't bother me as much as you might think. I sort of liked the element of
uncertainty. I found the implied threat and the element of danger pleasantly
disturbing.

Changing the subject Mary said, "Did you know I had a crush on you when
I was a freshman?"

"Yes, I did. The thing I never understood was why," I said with false
modesty.

"It's probably because back then you were the only person in pants that
ever spoke to me."

"Is that the only reason?" I asked dejectedly.

"No," she said with a smile. "I always thought you were cute, and I
thought you were interesting and funny in class."

"That's what I remember about you back then. Whenever I made a little
joke, I could always count on you to smile at it."

"Oh, I wasn't smiling at your jokes," she said with a giggle.

"You weren't?"

"No. Whenever you looked over at me after making a joke, I smiled back
and thought how much I'd like to be sucking your dick!"

"Mary Duncan!" I said in fake shock although I really was stunned to
hear her say that.

"What? Even us shy girls have our little fantasies," she said
playfully.

"Well . . . if sucking my dick was your fantasy . . . . I mean, far be
it from me . . . . "  I just sort of let that statement hang there
unfinished.

Mary then jumped off my lap and stood in front of me. She opened my
robe and started kissing my neck slowly working her way down. She gradually
and methodically lowered herself to her knees covering my chest and stomach
with more kisses. Then she began kissing and licking my inner thighs all
around my groin. I felt her wet tongue lick of my balls. I began to moan as
she worked her way up the underside of my erect penis with her tongue and
peppered it with little kisses along the way.

Then I could feel her strong arms sliding under my legs and gripping the
cheeks of my ass. Suddenly I felt myself being lifted from the chair and Mary
slowly began to stand up! I clasped the back of her head with my hands for
balance as she pulled my dick into her mouth. Her lips and tongue felt like
velvet on my cock as she pushed me in and out of her mouth. All the while I
could feel myself rising higher. As she stood completely upright I had to
duck my head to avoid hitting it on the ceiling.

Receiving the greatest blowjob of my life while being lifted in the air
by this incredibly strong yet utterly feminine young woman was . . . . It was
. . . . All I can really say is that I knew right away that this was an
experience worth making any sacrifice for. I knew that once I'd experienced
something this incredible, I could never go back to a life without the
possibility of experiencing it again. As I came in her mouth I shouted as
loud as I could, "Oh my God, Mary, I love you. Mary, I love you so much!"

As soon as she swallowed every drop of my man juice she looked up at me,
still holding me in the air and said, "I own you, Mr. S. Say it! Say that
I'm your master!"

Exhausted even though she did almost all the work, I said, "You own me
and you're my Master."

Before she left, I asked Mary how she would explain being out all night
to her parents. She told me that her mother was no longer in the picture
since she abandoned Mary and her father when Mary was only four. As far as
her father, she assured me that she would figure something out.

Right before she left she informed me, "Oh, and I'm keeping your shirt.
Any problem with that?"

"No," I replied.

"Good! Because I'm keeping it either way!"

For the next several weeks Mary and I got together whenever we could.
Mostly what we had were a few hours here and the few hours there. When it
suited her she spent to night at my place. I discovered that beyond just the
sex, I really enjoyed hanging out with Mary. However, I won't lie, the sex
was truly amazing. Every time we had physical relations Mary grew a little
more aggressive. It was as if fucking was a drug and the more we fucked, the
more assertive and domineering she became.

The crazy thing about it was, the more she intimidated me, the more I
liked it. It is safe to say that I became addicted to sex with Mary, and a
big part of that addiction had to do with Mary's superior strength and her
willingness to use it to get what she wanted from me.

She began to assert her dominance outside of the bedroom as well. For
example, she started demanding that I give her copies of all my tests in
advance. I was very reluctant to do this at first, but she told me that if I
didn't she would expose me as her slave. When I asked her what she meant by
this, she said that she would order me to get down on my knees a call her
"Master" right in the middle of class in front of everyone. When I told her I
wouldn't do it, she laughed right in my face. She said, "Not only would you
grovel and kiss my feet in front of the class, but you would say 'Thank you'
if that's what I told you to do." 

"What makes you so sure?" I asked her.

She flexed her biceps and said, "These do. You know you can't live
without my sexy muscles." Then she turned sideways and slapped her
spectacular, round ass and said, "You know you would die if I never let you
kiss this firm, sweet ass again." Then she gave me a sexy smirk and said,
"Besides, you know you have to do whatever I say, or I'll beat the crap out of
you. You know I can, and you know I will. I own you, and you're too scared
to do anything about it."

I tried to deny it, but she and I both knew that she was right. The
thing that was so twisted about this is that she didn't really need my tests
in advance; she always made straight A's in my class. I don't think she even
really looked at them. She only made me give them to her to prove that she
could. Also, she knew that the more she subjugated and abused me the more
intoxicating I found her. She knew that no matter how much she abused me -
even if she beat the crap out of me like she threatened - I would only come
crawling back for more.

Finally a long weekend was coming up, and Mary decided that we were
going to take a trip together. She chose for us to spend the long weekend
visiting our state capital which was a good three hours from our hometown.
This would give us the opportunity to do some normal "couple" stuff like going
out to dinner or the movies or museums without having to constantly look over
our shoulders. I thought it was a great idea. Of course, what I thought was
mostly irrelevant. We were going to take a trip whether I wanted to or not.
By this time, I knew better than to argue.

We left right after school on Friday so that we could spend as much time
together as possible. During the ride there I brought up the subject of
Mary's father again. I asked her how she could just go away for the weekend
like this.

"Doesn't he worry about where you are and who you're with?" I asked.

"Well . . . he was a little upset the first few times I stayed out all
night, but I reminded him that I was eighteen and therefore legally an adult
who could do as she pleased."

"And that was that enough to satisfy him?" I asked skeptically.

"Not at first, but then I got up on the coffee table and lifted him up
by the collar. Now we have an understanding," she explained.

"And what is that?" I asked.

"He lets me do whatever I want and doesn't ask too many questions, and I
don't beat the crap out of him," she replied.

"Oh." Part of me felt like I had awakened a monster. My monster. My
own strong, sexy beast. I pushed down on the accelerator a little harder
because I couldn't wait to get her alone in that hotel room.

About an hour and a half later we arrived. We quickly checked in and
took the elevator up to our fifth floor room. As we rode the elevator, Mary
grabbed my dick and gently squeezed it. "Someone's going up," she said
sexily. Then she leaned into me and whispered in my ear, "And at some point
tonight, I guarantee you'll be going down - maybe more than once."

When the elevator door opened we quickly found our room. Mary opened
the door with the key card and threw our luggage inside. Then she quickly
threw me over her shoulder and said loudly, "Get ready, my weakling love
slave, because I'm going to show you the time of your life tonight!" There
were a few other people in the hall. I didn't care. I actually smiled and
waved to them as Mary carried me in the room. I was proud of my strong, sexy,
young lover.

When we got inside, I approached my hot, young sweetheart. She held out
one hand and said, "Not yet."

"Please, Baby, I can't wait," I said and I tried to take a step closer
to her.

She held me at bay with her single extended hand. "Not yet," she
repeated as she roughly pushed me down on the bed. Seeing her overpower me so
easily just made me want her all the more. I started to get off the bed.
"Sit back down, and stay there until I say you can get up!" she commanded.
She said it with such firmness that I knew I better do as I was told. She
picked up a little overnight bag and said, "I promise that it will be worth
the wait," and disappeared into the bathroom.

When she emerged fifteen minutes later, she looked so pretty that it
took my breath away. She was dressed in a red and black, lacey, baby doll
nightie. A black lace bra with red trim and a red bow in the middle tightly
held Mary's firm, perky breasts. Hanging from her bra was red gossamer lace
that hung loosely and open at the middle revealing Mary's ripped six pack
abs. The red lace ended just below the place where the curve of her tight,
round ass joined with her powerful, muscular legs. Through the red lace black
thong panties with a tiny red rose in the middle on the front waistband were
clearly visible. Her feet were bare.

Her shoulder length light brown hair which she usually wore in a pony
tail was loose and lightly curled. Her big, brown eyes stared at me with a
wanton look that could only be interpreted as unbridled lust. Her pouty lips
smiled at me with desire and the confidence that come from knowing that I
wanted her even more than she wanted me.

Completely gone was the shy ninth grade girl I once knew. Standing
before me was a powerful, strong, sexy woman that I called "Master."

"Can I please, please get up now," I asked with a trembling voice

"Not quite yet," she said, "There's something I want to show you
first." As we locked eyes she began posing for me. She flexed her strong
arms and made her biceps dance. She flexed her pecs and made her firm breasts
bounce up and down. She stood on her tip toes and flexed her strong legs
showing off her 24" quads and her powerful calves. She even did a few easy
cartwheels to show off the fluid grace of her awesome body.

Standing before me, one leg slightly crossed in front of the other, her
arms crossed just under her breasts with her right fist in her left hand and
flexing all the muscles in her body she asked in a little girl voice, "Do you
like my body, Mr. S?"

"Mary, I love your body," I said barely able to contain myself.

Her eyelids were half closed and she smiled at me with a looked that
radiated cool confidence. She knew that she was the ruler of both me and the
situation. "I've decided that from now on, in this hotel room you must call
me master."

"Yes, Master."

Do you know why?"

"Because you're stronger than me, Master," I said dutifully.

"That's right," she said with satisfaction. "I am stronger than you -
much, much stronger than you. Do you know how easy it would be for me to beat
you up?"

"I have a pretty good idea," I said.

"But you like that don't you? You like knowing that your pretty, petite
young girlfriend can easily beat you up."

"Yes, Master; it makes me hot." I replied.

"But it also scares you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Master," I replied.

"So why don't you beg?"

"Beg for what, Master?

"Beg me not to beat you up,"

"But, Master-" 

"Stand up, Slave," she commanded. When I did, Mary extended her hand.
I placed my larger hand in hers. Her grip on my hand slowly grew tighter
until it began to hurt.

"Please, Mary, you're hurting me," I whimpered.

"Call me 'Master'," she demanded as her grip tightened.

"Master, pleassse," I begged, "You're breaking my hand."

"'Master, pleassssssse'," she mocked. "What's the matter? Is he little
eighteen year old girl hurting the big grown-up man with her superior
strength?"

"Yes, Master," I said, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want you to grovel on your knees," she answered.

I quickly fell to my knees. "It's not fair." I protested.

She loosened her grip slightly. "What's not fair?" she asked.

"It's not fair that someone as pretty and feminine as you should be able
to overpower me so easily," I said.

"Why not?" she asked, "After all, I'm a woman, and you're just a weak
little man."

"But I'm bigger than you," I pointed out.

"But you're still a weak little man, and I'm still strong, powerful
woman. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," I admitted.

She tightened her grip slightly and said, "So what are you going to do
now, weak little man?"

"Grovel," I said and I got down on all fours and bowed to my master,
"I'm going to grovel and beg you not to hurt me any more with your awesome,
superior strength."

"Do you think that will work, weak little man? Do you think that the
strong, girl bully will stop hurting you if you grovel and beg?"

"I can only hope so," I said as I respectfully kissed her pretty toes.

"Hmmmmm, that does feel good, weak little man."

"I'm happy that me groveling pleases you, Master."

"Look up at me," my master ordered. I looked up at her, and she said,
"Isn't that where you belong? Shouldn't you be on your hands and knees
looking up at your strong, young, superior master?"

"Yes, Master," I said. She never looked more beautiful or powerful to
me. I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anyone or anything in my live. I
wanted her more than a drowning man wanted oxygen.

 "Do you see how easy it is for me to overpower you and make you go to
your knees?"

"Yes, Master," I replied.

"Do you see how easy it is for me to make you grovel and kiss my cute,
little toes?"

"Yes, Master."

"It was sooo easy."

"I know, Master."

"You like to grovel at my feet, don't you, Slave?"

"You know I do, Master."

"It makes you hot knowing that your sweet, little girlfriend is sooo
much stronger than you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Master, it makes my dick hard."

"I want you to remember that, Slave. I want you to always keep in mind
how superior my strength is to yours. You could work out every day for hours,
and I would still be able to overpower you easily."

"I believe you, Master," I said truthfully.

"Remember, that I'm the master and you must always obey me."

"Of course, Master," I said.

"Just remember that," she said.

I was puzzled as to why Mary was going so out of her way to assert her
dominance. It was as if she felt she had something to prove even though she
had already proven it time and time again. It was like she needed to be
reassured. I decided that maybe it would help if I showed my master how
devoted to her I was.

I put both of my hands on one of her powerful quads and began caressing
it. She tightened it so that it expanded to its full 24 inches. I began to
kiss and lick it. I was in awe at how hard and powerful and yet smooth and
feminine her powerful leg muscles felt. I shifted over to her other flexed
quad and kissed and licked it as well. All the time I whispered little "Thank
you's" and other expressions of gratitude as I paid tribute to my master's
powerful legs.

I couldn't decide whether I should work my way down to her powerful
calves and then to her cute little feet or work my way up so that I could kiss
and nibble on her magnificent, spectacular, and glorious ass. Finally,
"magnificent, spectacular, and glorious" won out. I knew it would be a long
weekend and that I would have plenty of time to kiss her feet and suck her
sweet little toes.

All the time I could hear my master groaning in pleasure. I could tell
that she liked what I was doing to her. The knowledge that I was pleasing my
master made me so happy that my toes curled in arousal. As I kissed, licked
and nibbled her ass, her groans grew louder and more intense. As I shifted
around to her front and my tongue began to make its way to her holiest of holy
spots she suddenly reached down and grabbed me by my arms and lifted me off of
my knees.

For a second I dangled in the air until I lowered my legs and was
standing in front of my master who was eight inches shorter than me. She
reached up and threw her arms around my neck and pulled my face down to hers.
She kissed me hard and long.

Her arms gripped the collar of my shirt and in one strong, fluid motion
she ripped it off of me tearing it to rags in the process. She grabbed my
belt with her right hand and threw me backwards onto the bed. "Get those
pants off now, Slave. NOW!" she demanded.

I must have set some kind of world record for fastest pants removal
ever, tossing off my shoes and socks in the process. Within seconds, Mary who
was now equally naked sprung on top of me like a jungle cat. She sat on my
chest and pinned my arms to the bed over my head. She locked eyes on me and
said, "Before I fuck the living daylights out of you, you have to answer one
question, and you better answer it right. Either way you answer, I'm going to
fuck the living daylights out of you," she explained, "But the answer to my
question will determine whether or not I'm gentle or rough about it. In other
words, I will either bring you great pleasure or great pain with this powerful
body of mine. Answer carefully."

"What is the question, Master?"

"You know that you must obey me. You know that I want you to fuck me
and love me and like me and respect and fear me. But there is one thing I
want you to do above all else. Do you know what that is?"

 "Yes, of course," I said. I wasn't worried in the least. I had
this. I looked straight back at her and said two words . . . "Worship you."

"Worship me?" she asked as if she was surprised by my answer. "What am
I a goddess or something?"

"Yes, Master, you're my goddess of power and muscles," I answered.

She released my pinned arms and gently placed her hands on the side of
my face. She leaned in and kissed me tenderly. That night my master and I
made the most tender love ever between two people. Then we made love again.
And again. And again. By the time it was over, I was begging her to stop and
begging her for more at the same time. Finally she took pity on my weak male
body and rocked me in her strong arms and kissed my forehead and eyes and the
little spot at the bridge of my nose. Just before I fell into blessed
unconsciousness I heard he whisper, "You are so precious to me, Mr. S - so
precious."

The next morning when I woke up, Mary was sleeping soundly beside me. I
looked at her naked form and whistled low at how at how magnificent she was.
I took my index finger and traced the line of her rock hard abs. I followed
the perfect line that led from her abs to between her breasts. I tenderly
rubbed her right nipple with my finger and lightly blew on it which caused it
to rise into a pink little pyramid. As I shifted my touch and breath to her
left nipple I could hear let out a sleepy but satisfied "Mmmmmm."

I continued my finger up the side of her long, perfect neck over the
side of her chin and to her pouting lips. I traced her bottom lip with my
finger and lingered there a few seconds as I pulled her lower lip open
slightly. Once again I heard her quiet, sleepy "Mmmmmm." As my finger softly
touched her upper lip, I could feel her tongue lightly licking it. I gently
inserted the tip my finger into her slightly parted lips. Mary was still half
asleep when she began kissing and gently sucking the tip of my finger.

I brought my own lips close to hers and began to gently kiss her mouth.
My kisses grew more insistent and she began to respond in kind. Our tongues
found one another and she rolled towards me, her strong arms wrapped around my
neck as we lay side by side kissing and pressing our hot naked bodies
together.

She pulled slightly away from me and looked at me with longing in her
eyes. I knew she wanted to ask me something. "What?" I asked.

"You . . . you really do love me, don't you, Mr. S?" she asked, she eyes
slightly moist.

"Baby, of course I do," I said as I pulled her into me, "How could you
even doubt it?"

"I don't . . . not exactly," she said, "It's just that, . . . "

"What, Baby?"

"Well . . . I know that Jeff was an asshole, and I don't mean to compare
you to him . . . ."

"But he was your first boyfriend, and he cheated on you," I said
completing her thought.

"Something like that," she said. Then after a pause of a few seconds
she added, "And then there's my father . . . . "

"What about your father?" I asked.

"I didn't really have to threaten to beat the crap out of him for him to
let me spend the weekend with you. I only said that because I was trying to
sound tough. The truth is, he does really care what I do. He doesn't pay
much attention to me one way or the other. He hasn't cared much about
anything since my mother left us fourteen years ago. Sometimes I think he
resents me for her leaving."

I rose up of my elbow so that I could look down at Mary. Her eyes were
tearing up now, and she avoided looking directly at me. "Mary, you don't have
to worry about me at all. Ever. I promise you. I would be insane to ever
leave a beautiful, young girl like you." As I reassured her, I reminded
myself that despite her incredible strength and dominant nature, Mary was
still a very young and relatively inexperienced woman. There was still a part
of her that was a shy and scared little girl. As much as I loved her
asserting her power over me, I liked seeing this vulnerable side of her once
in awhile too.

"I know that I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have the . . . the
privilege to lie here next to you naked in bed. I'm the one who should
worry. You're beautiful and intelligent and sweet; you're fun to be with and
a world class athlete."

She smiled up at me and said, "And strong; don't forget strong." To
emphasize her point she quickly sat up and flipped by body over so that she
was now looking down at me. She flexed her 15" bicep in my face and said,
"Kiss it!" And kiss it I did.

Just like that she was back to her old buoyant, confident, and dominant
self. I marveled at how she shifted from vulnerable to intimidating in
seconds. How could I not be in awe of this woman?

She snuggled in beside me and whispered in my ear, "What makes me so
special?"

"It's all those things I just said."

"No, Baby, what makes me sooo special?" she coaxed, "The most special
girl in the whole world."

 "It's your strength," I said.

"Annnnnd . . . ,"

"Your muscles, your beautiful, sexy, womanly, big, thick, hard muscles,"
I answered.

She reached down and wrapped her slim, powerful fingers around my
penis. "Do you like feeling my strong hand around your dick?" she asked.

I felt like I was about to melt into a liquid state. "Yes, Master," I
moaned.

"Do you know how easy it would be for me with my strong grip to squeeze
your hard dick into paste?" she asked.

"Yes, Master," I answered feeling the sweet agony of fear mixed with
lust.

She began to gently stroke my cock. "But instead, I'm going to use my
strong grip to jack you off," she giggled.

"Thank you, Master," I said relieved and satisfied.

Later that afternoon we went to see a movie. We had a slight
disagreement about what movie to see. Mary wanted to see the latest "young
vampires in love" movie; I wanted to see ANYTHING ELSE. Needless to say that
not only did we see the movie Mary wanted to see, but she made me get down on
my hands and knees and kiss her feet in the crowded theater lobby for daring
to disagree with her. I happily complied.  

The rest of the weekend was wonderful. As I figured, I had many
opportunities that weekend to kiss Mary's feet and suck her cute, pink little
toes. We also had dinner in a couple of nice restaurants and even made it
over to the natural history museum.

On Sunday afternoon while we strolled around the state's largest
shopping mall, Mary even beat up a couple of college boys who made lewd
comments about her "sweet ass". What really pissed her off was when one of
them asked her why she was walking around hand-in-hand with her father.

On the ride home, Mary even began calling me by my first name. However,
"Doug" quickly became "Dougie" which quickly morphed into "Doggie". That's
when she got the idea to buy me a dog collar. She explained that sometimes
when we were alone together, I was to be her dog. At such times, I was to be
naked except for my dog collar and that I was not allowed to speak. As Mary
put it, "You can only talk doggie talk." She even made me eat out of a dog
dish.

This more-or-less brings us up to the present except to say that I love
Mary more and fall more deeply under her spell every day.

As for the future . . . I plan to ask/beg/plead/grovel/whatever it takes
for Mary to consent to become my wife-master as soon as she graduates. I
might not even wait long enough for the commencement ceremony to actually
end. If she says yes like I hope and pray, I will marry her as quickly as she
says it's okay. I only hope that she insists that I crawl down the aisle on
my hands and knees to her. Better yet, perhaps she will lead me up the aisle
on a leash attached to my studded dog collar with me crawling at her heal like
a good doggie . . . .

I only hope and pray that my luck holds out.

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