This last week I noticed that both Breanne and I have sort of been "in absentia". Unlike our errant nypmh with insatiable desires, I do not have the benefit of her medical excuse. However, rest assured that we have not abandoned you. I have spoken with Breanne and she assures me that she will be back on Monday with a fresh narrative of her last Friday's assignment, along with new daily assignments that she swears she will try to fit in between plowing, animal husbandry, and screwing practically anything that isn't nailed down.
I myself have been working hard as well. The next novel in the Sigma Epsilon Xi series, entitled "The Intern" is fully outlined and even a quarter written. Here's an excerpt:
She dropped her satchel on the floor and almost unconsciously began to unbutton her blouse. Her fingers flew down the front of her shirt until she was able to shrug it off, draping it over one arm of the swinging bench, her pink bra seeming to repeat in lace the pattern of the sun falling through the budding leaves of the oak that stood to the side of the porch.
In moments the pink lace joined the folds of white cotton, leaving Sam’s breasts bare. Two cream colored mounds, tipped in the same pink of the bra, seemed to glow in the muted sunlight. Her fingers unzipped the skirt, working it down over the swell of her hips until the pink strands of her thong were exposed, and then disappeared back down into the darkness of her bottom. She deposited the skirt with the rest of her clothes, and then snagged her thong, yanking it down her long legs with practice and grace. This left her standing in only her thigh high white stockings and the high heels.
It had only been a month since the sorority had started requiring certain novices to strip prior to entering, and Sam had been the first one to stand in sixty degree weather and strip to the skin. Her mentor, Sister Kristen, had grinned like a Cheshire cat at Sam’s goose bumps as Sam had shivered in the early spring air. Now, weeks later, the weather was certainly cooperating, and Sam had lost all her inhibitions, as had many of her sorority mates.
Gathering her clothes, Sam grasped the door handle and entered the sorority house. The main hallway was dark as usual, the light spilling from the glazed glass of the front door, and the far back window. Common rooms were braced on opposite sides of the hall as Sam’s high heels clacked on the wood, her destination the stairway that led to the upper rooms.
“Samantha.” A voice called out, causing Sam to pause and turn. Mistress Tami, the senior girl that had chosen and inducted her into the sorority at the beginning of the year stood in the doorway of the large common room, her elegant slacks and blouse echoing the richness of her superiority.
“Hello Mistress Tami.” Samantha replied, nodding. The disparity of their dress was more than obvious, echoing their relationship perfectly. Sam’s nudity, emphasized by the white thigh high stockings and heels was the perfect counterpoint to the gray slacks and blue silk blouse of her Mistress.
“Samantha, just leave your belongings in the hall and please come into the common room. There is someone here who wants to meet with you.” Tami said, her voice curiously devoid of emotion. Samantha quickly deposited her belongings on the small hallway table.
Even more impressively, a third Sigma Epsilon Xi novel entitled "Samantha's Return" is in the process of being written and the initial outline being refined. Here's an excerpt:
"Hello Samantha. How was your summer?” Tami asked, smiling gently. She reached her hands out to Sam and ran her fingers through Sam’s dark brown hair.So, as you can see, I haven't just been sitting back and relaxing. I've been working! This next week I am going to concentrate on the website with the stated goal of getting the hyperlinks fixed and the rest of the free archive up and running. After that, well... it will be time to start fixing up the VIP Lounge!
“It was good Mistress.” Sam replied. “Stand up Sam, and put your hands behind your head for me.” Tami ordered. Sam scrambled to her feet, steady and sure despite the high heels. It was awkward being slightly taller than Tami, but the confidant look on her Mistress’ face was enough to banish all thoughts of her height. Tami moved around her, the fingers of her hand tracing the few welts that hadn’t completely healed.
“Did she break you?” Tami asked softly, one hand on Samantha’s buttock.
Sam bit her lip. “I’m not sure I understand you Mistress.” She replied.
Tami moved around to face Samantha. “You know exactly what I mean, Samantha Mayfield.” A mixture of tears and anger glistened in Tami’s eyes. “Did she break you?” Tami demanded.
Samantha trembled slightly. Tami had opposed the internship with Calli, worrying that Samantha’s penchant for sexual abuse would become an all encompassing trait that would smother the intelligence, beauty, and independence that had been so prevalent in Samantha. To Sam, the feelings she experiences at the hands of Calli, Kristen, and even Tami, had released her, and the direction and loss of control had given her an overwhelming sensation of rightness. It was something she would never be able to explain to Mistress Tami. Samantha looked at her Mistress, her lips pressed tightly together, unable to answer, or perhaps unwilling. Tami looked down at the floor for a moment. Sam stood there, wondering if her Mistress would turn away. Tami’s hand lifted and reached out, caressing Samantha’s arm.
“Assume the position, novice.” Tami said in a whisper.
Sam nodded and moved to stand in front of the desk chair. She leaned backward, still facing Tami, arching her back as her hands found the back of the seat, supporting herself as she presented her body. She watched as Tami unbuckled her heavy leather belt, pulling it from the denim jeans, and Sam quivered in expectation. She felt the gush of wetness between her legs and she spread herself even more, part of her hoping that Tami’s punishment would be light, and part of her hoping that it would be the most blistering beating she had ever received. Sam knew she had disappointed Tami. A severe thrashing would help relieve the guilt she felt.