TABOO TALES(erotica)

A few months later, Janette and her best friend and submissive protege, Angelina or Angie, had become so close that they visited colleges and universities together and even applied to mostly the same institutions. Janette received early acceptance from Masters College, hardly surprising due to her excellent grades, extracurricular activities, and the fact that her father, Matt, was an alumnus and generous contributor.

However, Angie’s grades and other activities were not as good, and her mother, Justine, had applied for a full scholarship, so Angie’s admission was questionable. Without Justine’s knowledge, Matt had made a sizable, extra donation to the school, while mentioning to the head of the Financial Office that his daughter’s best friend was another applicant.

A month later he spoke with the Dean of Admissions and requested that he personally interview mother and daughter before making a decision. Matt, who’d made discreet inquiries about the Dean’s personal proclivities, informed the Dean of intimate details about this very special pair, sent a number of revealing photos and videos of bondage and submission, and recommended a private interview at the end of the workday.

So at 4:30 pm on a Friday, the pair, carefully dressed, arrived at the Dean’s luxurious office. Justine was impressed by the gorgeous campus: its handsome buildings, rolling lawns and quads, magnificent trees, state-of-the-art facilities and luxurious amenities. The Dean was excited by seeing the two hot beauties in the flesh. Justine looked like she was in her late twenties, as if she was an older sister of Angie. Both exuded sensuality like no mother-daughter pair he’d ever met.

He’d set the thermostat at 80o, so Justine and Angie, with their tight, short-waisted jackets over wispy tight blouses, were uncomfortably hot. Unconsciously, they both sat in their chairs with their legs spread wide, their ankles and heels resting outside the chair legs.

“Let’s have a drink,” he began. “What would you like?”

“I’d like a vodka on the rocks, please, and Angie will have a white wine,” Justine said.

“Good. A vodka for me as well. Angie, would you make them for us?” This was his first test of the girl’s obedience.

“Of course, sir,” the young beauty said, smiling and walking over to the small bar that rested above a mini refrigerator.

While she fixed the drinks, the Dean asked Justine, “I assume you’re pleased with what you’ve seen here at Masters?”Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Oh of course,” Justine said enthusiastically. “The school is wonderful. And thank you for seeing us. You must be so busy.”

“I’m happy to do so for an alumnus as thoughtful and. . . talented as your friend, Matt.” Angie served the drinks. The Dean noticed that she’d made triples for him and her mother. They drank. “You probably know that admission here is practically a guarantee of later success in life, whether a graduate’s path is in business, education, science, medicine, government — whatever. The issue is that Angie’s application is. . . borderline, so the purpose of this interview is to get to know you both more. . . personally.”

They all drank. “Angie, your grades are good but not terrific. And I know that last year, you and your mother moved to Matt’s city and you attended a new school, which is all very disruptive. Are you. . . physically active at all?”

Angie finished her glass. “Yes, Dean, I wasn’t on the soccer, softball or volleyball teams this past year because I was studying so hard, but I’m fit. I work out 5–6 days a week, like Mom. Matt has an incredible exercise room at his house.”

“Hmmm,” he pondered. “Why don’t you refresh your wine?” He watched as the leggy beauty walked to the bar and turned his attention to the perspiring mother. “Justine, you look uncomfortable. Why don’t you take off your jacket?”

She looked at him for several seconds, recalling the previous night, when Matt had given her strict instructions: she and Angie were to cooperate fully with the Dean. Justine had objected, whereupon he’d slapped her tits, spanked her pussy and given her a serious whipping. When he had finished with her, she was kneeling, her body hanging limply from an overhead cord wrapped around her wrists, her pussy lips and tits swollen and dense with fresh, livid marks. “Don’t you understand that your daughter’s future rests on this one interview?” Matt asked. “Do you understand?” She nodded and he roughly face-fucked the semi-conscious sub mother.

Remembering Matt’s warning, Justine slowly unbuttoned and removed her blouse for the Dean. “Just as I thought,” the Dean said to himself. The slut wore a sheer, tight white blouse, clearly revealing her big tits and dark, thick nipples straining against the damp fabric. Excited and ashamed about her excitement, Justine took a big swallow of her vodka.

Angie slowly walked to her chair, sipping her second glass of chilled white wine. “No need to sit,” the Dean said. “Turn around and raise your skirt so I can see how fit you are.”

Angie set her glass down on his desk and swiveled so her back was facing him, extending her legs widely. Gradually, she raised her skirt, exposing firm thighs encased in powder blue stockings. Without prompting, she raised the material till her lacy stocking tops showed, then the bare, smooth, tanned young skin above them, and finally her ass, only partially covered in tight lacy boyshorts. “And the front?” he said.

Angie turned in place, but without lowering her skirt, till she faced him, the skirt rucked at her waist. The lace covering the tight boyshorts ended around her slit, clearly showing her thick heavy labia and the shaved skin around them. “Yes you look fit — and lovely,” the Dean said approvingly, his cock twitching. You can lower your skirt and go wait in the anteroom till I call you.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said and left, shutting the door behind her.

~ ~ ~

The Dean turned to Justine. “Another of our traditions here is that the mother of a girl on full scholarship participates in various school activities. For example, during Parents’ Weekend, she assists me by being my companion and host: making parents feel welcome, involving them in conversation, etc. For example, there’s the Friday evening cocktail party and dinner, then the big game on Saturday afternoon, etc.”

“I’d be happy to help. . . in any way that pleases you,” Justine said.

“Good. I think you’d be wonderful. And it helps that you’re a teacher yourself. There are also two, how shall I say. . . private events. After the Friday dinner, the senior, executive administration gathers for late night brandies and planning.” Justine looked at him, perplexed. “The group consists of our president, the board chairman, the dean and myself. Just four of us.”

“And my duties would be?”

“Service. . . That is, you would serve drinks like brandy and port. And,” he added slowly, “make the men. . . comfortable.” His words were fraught with obvious meaning. There was a long silence. “Do you think you could. . . handle that?”

Justine looked back at him, in shock at this brazen proposition. She closed her eyes, reeling dizzily with humiliation, envisioning what the scene might be like. She’d frequently serviced three at a time: her father, brother and uncle, and recently, once Justin was eighteen, her father, brother and him. Very recently she’d been ordered to submit to four and then five: her four family members plus Matt. She could only remember parts of that scene, giving hand jobs to two of them, cocksucking the third while she was DP’d up her ass and in her cunt. But this “private event” gathering would mostly be total strangers. Her eyes downcast to hide her lurid excitement, she asked, “What do they like?”

“Oh, no worries on that account. They have the same tastes as you and I do. And they are generous. . . .”

“How do you mean?”

“If you please them — and I have absolutely no doubt that you will — they tend to express their appreciation in terms of clothes, vacation trips and special opportunities for the hostess’s student child. Special funding, trips, opportunities, connections and so on.”

She said agreeably, “I’ll do my best, Dean. You said there are two events?”

“Yes. Late on Saturday night, there’s a similar meeting, by exclusive invitation, with the year’s four largest donors, men who have contributed a million dollars or more, sometimes much more. These are powerful, demanding men, who are sued to getting what they want.”

“And my responsibilities would be?”

“The same. The difference is that these men tend to be much more generous than the academic group, since the donors are all extremely wealthy. Jewelry, designer couture, first-class round-trip plane tickets to 5-star hotels and resorts. . . .”

“That sounds exciting. Besides serving them drinks, will they expect. . . anything different than the Friday night group?”

“Hmmm. For example, have you ever worn a serving tray?”