The Interns

Chapter VI----Lynn Completes Her Orientation

It was a beautiful early spring morning. The sun was up and Lynn was in a taxi on her way to 'orientation.' As she sat in the back seat of the taxi, she was having second thoughts. "Am I doing the right thing," she was wondering to herself. "Why am I going back here ... is it for the internship or ...?" She took out a mirror from her purse, checked her makeup, and looked at her shoulder length brown hair. "Everything looks good," she thought.

Lynn rested her head back on the car seat and closed her eyes. She was still a little tired even though she had slept for a good eight hours. "But she was up early," she thought to herself. "Why am I so concerned about the way I look," she was thinking again, trying to justify why she decided against wearing one of her business type suits. Instead, she had decided on wearing a dark brown skirt, a beige polyester blouse that really clung to her breasts, and clearly outlined their shape and size as they rose to their peaks. The blouse had small dark brown buttons down the front. The first button was down low from the collar and it did tend to show a lot of cleavage. "This isn't something I would wear to class," she was thinking again. "Why am I wearing it now?" Lynn's mind was working rapidly. She was trying to find some justification for everything, yet, somewhere deep inside she knew the reason she had dressed a little more 'daring' today. She wanted to impress Ms. Barker ... a very little bit of her submissive personality was exposing itself. She wanted to please Ms. Barker.

"Here we are ma'am," the taxi driver disrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, thank you," Lynn answered.

It only took a few minutes for Lynn to be let in through the front door. She walked down the long hallway and soon was before the door to Ann's reception area, and, of course, Ms. Tamala's office. Her legs felt a little weak and she was a little nervous just before she knocked on the door.

"Come in," she heard Ann's familiar voice.

When Ann opened the door she stopped dead in her tracks. What she saw was a completely different Ann than she saw yesterday. Ann was dressed in a very short skirt, very tight blouse, and high heel shoes. The high heel shoes weren't as noticeable as yesterday's because the heels weren't quite as high. But it was Ann's makeup that made Lynn take a second look. Yesterday her makeup was somewhat conservatively applied. She looked pretty but in a soft sort of way. Today her makeup was what Lynn considered 'bold.' The rouge on her cheeks was heavily applied. The lipstick was a bright red to match the color of the rouge and that too was heavy. Her bleached blonde hair, while neatly combed, was thick with hair spray. Lynn tried to decide what Ann looked like, a child's doll ... or, even though she hated to be thinking it ... a whore!

"Good morning Lynn," Ann greeted Lynn.

"Good morning," answered Lynn. "Wow, what happened to you?"

"What? Oh, you mean the different dress?" Ann replied.

"Yes, and the make up," Lynn answered, the surprise evident by the tone of her voice.

"Oh well, Mistress ... I mean Miss Tamala sends me out on a special assignment once in a while," Ann said, a little upset with herself for the slip of her tongue. "Here," Ann continued hoping Lynn hadn't picked up on the 'Mistress' she let slip, "breakfast is ready. Miss Tamala would like us to have these energy bars and coffee for breakfast. Let's see, you like your coffee black, right?"

"Boy, I was more in the mood for some bacon and eggs this morning," Lynn replied. "Does Ms. Barker always buy breakfast for us?"

"Lynn, I hope you don't think I am being too intrusive, but I think you should be very careful on how you address Miss Tamala. Miss Tamala insists on being addressed as 'Miss Tamala' at all times even when Miss Tamala is not in our presence as a sigh of our respect for her. If you get used to it now, you will be less likely to get on the wrong side of Miss Tamala," Ann told Lynn in a serious tone of voice.

Lynn looked at Ann with a surprised look on her face. "No, no," I am glad for all the help you can give me," Lynn replied. Lynn had in fact noticed how Ann always used the words 'Miss Tamala' when referring to Ms. Barker but she didn't feel comfortable enough to ask about it. She never seemed to refer to her as "she.' "Well, now she knew," Lynn thought, "she certainly didn't want to break any rules.

"As far as breakfast, yes, Miss Tamala prefers her employees to be in the best of health and fully energized when the work day begins," Ann was explaining to Lynn. "Miss Tamala insists on taking the responsibility of ordering our breakfast for us."

As Ann was answering Lynn's question she was carrying over a tray with Lynn's breakfast. There were two energy bars on the tray and a large cup of black coffee. Ann had already put the aphrodisiac pellets in Lynn's coffee. Miss Tamala had told Ann to put two 'favor pellets' in Lynn's coffee this morning instead of the one she put in yesterday. Ann didn't know the 'favor pellets' were really an aphrodisiac. She didn't have any idea what they were or what they were for. But then, Ann was always obedient to her Mistress and she had learned a long time ago during her training that when she was issued a directive she was never to question her Mistresses.

"Is Ms. Bar ... ah ... Miss Tamala in her office yet?" Lynn asked correcting herself.

"No, today is Friday and it is Miss Tamala's morning workout day. Miss Tamala meets her trainer at the health club today and then afterwards Miss Tamala has an appointment at the beauty salon. Miss Tamala also has an early business appointment this morning so Miss Tamala will be a few hours yet," answered Ann. "But Miss Tamala gave me instructions for your introduction to our company and if we have the time, I can also show you what some of your duties will consist of. We can get started right after breakfast."

"How long are you working here Ann?" inquired Lynn.

"Well, I started as an intern just like you five years ago," Ann answered. "But I really began training for my 'position' four years ago."

"I see," Lynn replied, "is your family from this area?"

"No, no, I was married when I was granted the internship by Miss Tamala, but I am divorced now," Ann said.

"Oh, I'm sorry your marriage didn't work out," Lynn replied.

"Well, it's something I am not too comfortable talking about," Ann answered. "But you better finish your breakfast so we can get your introduction to our company completed before Miss Tamala comes in.

Lynn didn't push the conversation any further since Ann cut it off at that point. "Besides, I don't want to be pushy," Lynn thought.

As soon as breakfast was over, Ann came back to Lynn and handed her a workbook. She told Lynn that Miss Tamala wanted her to have a good working knowledge of what our company was all about. To do this, Miss Tamala wanted Lynn to watch a video about the company, its origins and plans for future growth. All this seemed to make sense to Lynn and Ann had a way of making her feel a lot more comfortable than she was just before she came in the reception area.

"I guess I just blew all that stuff that happened yesterday at my interview way out of proportion," Lynn thought to herself. She still wasn't aware that Ann knew exactly what happened yesterday because she was listening on the intercom.

"OK Lynn," Ann said, "let me show you where our video room is."

Ann led Lynn to a very small room off to the side of the reception area. The room only measured three feet by six feet. A very large video screen covered most of the far wall. It had a small table and two small chairs on one end of the room and gave the appearance of looking down a narrow mini theatre at this very large video screen. Dr. Mary had devised this room after doing a lot of research to evaluate its effectiveness. Now that it was perfected to her satisfaction, she and Miss Tamala referred to this room as the 'tee-up room.' This was the room where their 'project' or 'projects' were first exposed to subliminal messages.

"Wow," Lynn exclaimed, "that is some television."

"Yes it is," Ann answered. It measures eighty inches by eighty inches and was specially made for Miss Tamala. Miss Tamala wants anyone who is introduced to our company to feel like they are part of it. The picture that this television generates is so large and clear you will almost feel as though you are part of each scene."

"Boy, she ... I mean ... ah ... Miss Tamala goes first class, doesn't she ... ah ... Miss Tamala," Lynn said referring to the video room. She was having a difficult time remembering to use 'Miss Tamala' instead 'she' in her conversation with Ann.

"Now," Ann started to explain to Lynn, "I am going to start the presentation and you will notice there are little pauses in between the video clips. This is sort of a test to see how perceptive you are. When there is a pause in the video clip, I will read you a phase from your workbook and you're to fill in the blank or blanks with the first word or words that come to your mind."

"OK, I think I understand," answered Lynn while thinking how much she disliked tests.

Ann turned the lights off in the room and started the video. Then she sat next to Lynn on one of the two chairs. The workbook was on the table in front of them. The light from the screen was bright on Lynn's face as the first video clip lit up the screen. Soft mood music that was specifically designed to fit appropriately in conjunction with each video clip filled the room from the surround sound speakers that was part of the video system. Then words filled the screen: 'The Barker and Mercy Company presenting its founder Ms. Tamala Barker.'

This video clip featured pictures of a very young Tamala in high school. It highlighted her achievements, the awards she had received, and ended up with a very large photograph of her graduating grades on the screen. The final report card listed a 4.0 grade point average. Then the screen went blank with just a very large 'still' picture of Miss Tamala.

"All right Lynn," Ann said, "I am going to read a phase to you and you give me the first word that comes to your mind to fill in the blank. "Miss Tamala is very ..."

"Smart!" Lynn answered immediately.

"Correct," answered Ann. "Now fill in that blank in your workbook."

Lynn found the phase in her workbook and wrote in the word 'smart.'

The large television screen started up again and featured a little older Tamala in college. This time the video clip not only illustrated the many awards for academic achievement Tamala had received but ended up showing a full photograph of Tamala in a bathing suit receiving a very large gold trophy she had received in a beauty pageant. The screen paused.

"OK," Ann started to read the next phase, "Miss Tamala is very ..."
"Beautiful," Lynn immediately answered again.

"Correct," answered Ann. "Go ahead and put it in your workbook."

Lynn again wrote in the word 'beautiful' in the blank space.

After forty-five minutes of video clips and pauses, filling in blanks with complimentary words and descriptions of Tamala, Lynn was beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiac. It appeared as though every time she would write down a complimentary word she could feel a little awakening at the apex of her legs. The longer it went, the more her mind was concentrating on Miss Tamala. And more than anything else she wanted to fill in the workbook correctly so she would pass this test of perception to impress her.

After a while of illustrating the beginnings of the company and the company's plans for the future, the presentation was starting to wind down. Each video clip ended just before the pause with some personal information about Miss Tamala.

It was time to see just how much 'admiration' for Miss Tamala Lynn's mind had absorbed. This is the way Dr. Mary had designed this subliminal program. It started out with light nonchalant questions and as time went on the questions got bolder and, of course, required bolder answers.

The video clip on the screen changed to a full photograph of Miss Tamala's breasts. When Ann told Lynn to fill in the blank space at the pause, Lynn wrote: 'Miss Tamala has beautiful' ... 'breasts.'

Another full still picture of Miss Tamala's buttocks, another blank to fill in and Lynn wrote: 'Miss Tamala has a beautiful'... 'ass.' Both Ann and Lynn giggled at the use of the word 'ass.' Lynn wasn't used to describing a person's body using these 'slang' words and she felt a little evil filling in this blank. But she just brushed it off as a little girl to girl silliness.

It went on and on, 'Miss Talama has beautiful eyes, beautiful lips, beautiful legs, beautiful feet ...' All the while Lynn could feel more and more of the sexual sensations building in her very core. She was thinking of yesterday and swore she could still taste Miss Tamala pussy juices. She could feel the swelling in her breasts as her nipples were beginning to awaken.

Dr. Mary had instructed Miss Talama on the use of this system of planting subliminal messages. She told Miss Tamala that by having their 'project' think of these complimentary descriptive words for Miss Tamala and then writing them down in her own hand writing she would be reinforcing her feelings of admiration, respect and even desire in her mind for Miss Tamala. And, with the help of the aphrodisiac, she would be relating all of these emotions to the sexual stimulations she was feeling. Once she was 'properly teed-up' it would be up to Miss Tamala to take advantage of her submissive personality. "It won't be too long," Dr. Mary explained to Miss Tamala, "before you will have complete control of the bitch's will power and her ability to resist your wishes."

After an hour the video stopped. Ann leaned over the table and said: "Lynn, you did really well. I think Miss Tamala will be pleased with you when she reviews your workbook." She leaned over closer to Lynn, her mouth only six inches from Lynn's mouth and stopped. Lynn looked at Ann's red lips, the 'educated' lips, the lips that knew how to suck a pussy, and kiss an ass. For a minute Lynn felt an involuntary compulsive urge go through her. Yielding to that urge she leaned over the other six inches to meet Ann's lips. Ann's lips felt soft and warm on Lynn's yet 'uneducated' lips. It was a female to female kiss, a new sensation, and it felt entirely different than David's kiss she thought.

"It was just a friendly kiss," Lynn thought trying not to feel guilty about her first kiss with someone of the same sex. But Lynn was still somewhat aroused from the video session and she couldn't deny the excited feelings that the softness of female lips upon female lips were creating within her very core. Ann seemed take the kiss in stride so Lynn didn't linger with her thoughts too long.

As they came out of the video room, Ann heard the familiar click of someone pushing the locking release mechanism at the front door. "Miss Tamala is here," she said and almost ran down the hallway to open the door.

Lynn waited in the reception area and in a few moments she heard the tapping of high heel shoes coming down the hallway. The reception door opened and Ann was the first one to appear. Her one hand was holding Miss Tamala's briefcase and purse. Her other was hand holding a steaming cup of coffee in a plastic cup. Because her hands were full, Ann had to lean against the door to hold it open for Miss Tamala.

When Miss Tamala came through the door, Lynn wasn't prepared for what she saw. For the second time today she stood in awe.

Miss Tamala looked so different than yesterday. Her jet black hair was pulled back and ended up in a bun on the back of her head. It was obvious she had just had a facial because her bronze skin had a fresh glow to it. Yesterday she had a little eye makeup on but today her eyes were perfectly made up. She had a little violet eye shadow that matched the violet blush on her high cheek bones. Her full lips looked like a delicious cream had been applied to them. She wore a soft black leather vest with silver buttons down the front. A white silk blouse completed the top part of the ensemble. The blouse had a very low cut and showed a lot of rich brown cleavage.

But the bottom part of the ensemble was the 'attention getter.' The skirt she wore was also made of soft black leather but unlike yesterday it didn't come above her knees. Instead it was two inches below her knees and had a slit running up her leg to the top of her thigh. She wore a soft black leather pair of open toed shoes with four inch heels. The calves of her magnificent legs were clearly on display through sheer nylon stockings. Her heavy thighs were playing a little game of peek-a-boo through the slit in her skirt.

It was apparent to Lynn that the atmosphere in the room had completely changed as soon as Miss Tamala entered the reception area. It had changed from a somewhat informal friendly atmosphere when Lynn and Ann were alone to a very intimidating atmosphere as soon as Miss Tamala was present.

"Good morning Miss Tamala," Lynn said in a very humble voice, her face blushing a little. She was now face to face with Miss Tamala again. She was recalling where her fingers were yesterday ... she was remembering the wetness of her pussy ... the video that she had just viewed was flashing through her mind ... "smart, beautiful, beautiful breasts, lips, ass, feet ..."

Miss Tamala didn't acknowledge her good morning greeting. "Why should she?" she thought. "This little white bitch is back. That could only mean one thing." Instead her dominant mind continued sizing Lynn up. "The little fucker is nervous," her mind was working again. "The 'hunt' is over; the 'capture' is beginning. I swear, before this day is done I will have that pretty white head between my legs." With these last thoughts going through her mind she could feel the first signs of moisture in her pussy. "Careful Tamala", she told herself, "I still have a way to go before I have her."

"So I take it you are back for orientation," Miss Tamala said in a matter of fact tone of voice.

"Yes Miss Tamala," Lynn answered.

"Good," Miss Tamala said. "I think you have the talent we are looking for."

Lynn watched as Ann went in front of Miss Tamala and started to unbutton the silver buttons on the front of her black leather vest.

"Don't let your fingers touch anything but the buttons," Miss Tamala said in a demanding voice to Ann. The abrupt change of voice made Lynn tremble a little as she watched mesmerized by the scene taking place in front of her. It seemed to Lynn that Ann was acting more like a maid than a receptionist.

"Yes ma'am," answered the obedient Ann.

After Ann had unbuttoned the vest she walked behind Miss Tamala and very carefully removed the garment. Miss Tamala had stretched her arms out for Ann to make it easier for the vest to slip off her shoulders. As the vest slipped off her shoulders, her white silk blouse came into view. The movement of her arms out to the side of her body made the front of the blouse pull backward and it seemed as though her large firm breasts were going to tear right through the flimsy material. Her black bra was clearly visible through the almost transparent blouse and it appeared as though the bra could just about retain those beautiful bronze breasts.

Lynn was blushing even more now. Her gaze was on the valley between Miss Tamala's breasts and she felt like she was looking somewhere she shouldn't be looking.

Miss Tamala was watching Lynn's eyes and where they were looking. She smiled a little, knowing the effect she was having on Lynn. "Little bitch likes my boobs," she was thinking to herself. "Looks like our little 'tee-up' room did its job too."

Then she turned toward Ann and said: "Go put the car in the parking garage," again in a stern voice as though she had very little respect for her.

"Yes ma'am," answered Ann as she hurried out of the reception room door.

"Miss Langley, get my briefcase, purse and coffee and come with me," Miss Tamala said. "And bring your workbook too."

"Yes Miss Tamala," Lynn answered as she walked over to do as she was instructed.

When Lynn picked up the briefcase she was surprised how heavy it was. But she managed to get the briefcase and purse in one hand, and tucked her workbook under her other arm. When she went to pick up the large plastic coffee cup with her free hand, she found it was very hot. She immediately put it back down.

"Now what?" Miss Tamala said in a very impatient voice.

"I ... it ... it's ...," Lynn was stuttering, the fear apparent in her voice. For some reason that Lynn really didn't understand she was afraid to upset Miss Tamala.

Miss Tamala was pleased with the effect she was having on Lynn. She watched the exasperated expression on Lynn's pretty face for a while. "Yes," she was thinking, "it's so much fun watching this beautiful white bitch's will power to resist crumbling before my very eyes." That dominant feeling was causing a little pulsating quiver in Miss Tamala's loins.

"Pick it up, what are you a sissy", Miss Tamala berated Lynn. "Ann didn't have any trouble with it."

Lynn didn't bother to reply. She just picked up the hot coffee cup, got a good grip on it and tried to make her way to Miss Tamala's office door. The palm of her hand and her fingers wrapped around the hot coffee cup were burning and her facial expression showed it. When she got to the office door she stopped. She had the heavy briefcase and purse in one hand, her workbook tucked under her arm squeezed against her body and the hot coffee cup in the same hand and she was waiting ... waiting for what? For the empty handed Miss Tamala to open the door?

Miss Tamala had stopped too. She looked at Lynn standing there with her hands full, watched the steam rising up from the hot coffee cup in her reddening hand and saw the grimace of pain on Lynn's face. "Let the little white bitch suffer for a while," she was thinking, "she has to learn to suffer and sacrifice for me."

It seemed like an eternity that Lynn stood in front of Miss Tamala's office door but, of course, it was only a few minutes. Miss Tamala was only least 8 inches taller then Lynn. But in Lynn's present state of mind, she seemed like a giant. Lynn made the mistake of looking into the eyes of Miss Tamala. The soft brown eyes of Lynn met the penetrating black eyes of Miss Tamala and a feeling of inferiority swept through her.

"No manners either huh," Miss Tamala finally spoke. "A sissy, no manners ... what the hell do they teach you people in college anymore. Put something down and open the door for me."

"Yes Miss Tamala," answered Lynn. Lynn looked for some place to put the hot coffee down. She was away from Ann's desk and there wasn't any object close by to put the coffee cup on. She was fearful that she was making Miss Tamala upset by making her wait. "Damn, how can I be so stupid," she was thinking. "I wanted so much to impress her and I am making a mess out of everything I do,"... her self esteem was slowly draining from her mind. Finally she reached down and put the hot coffee cup on the floor. A little 'aahhh' came from her mouth as she let go of the hot cup and felt the cool air on her hand. Her hand was a deep red by now and it was even more painful when she turned the handle to the office door. After the office door was opened and she started to bend down to the floor to pick up the coffee cup she had just put there, she heard Miss Tamala's voice again.

"Take your damn shoes off whenever you are in my office. I don't want your shoes marking up my hardwood floors," Miss Tamala told Lynn.

"Yes Miss Tamala," answered Lynn as she took her shoes off, picked up the hot coffee cup, her hand stinging more than ever and followed Miss Tamala into her office. Immediately the smell of the highly polished oak sided office filled her nostrils. She watched the beautiful and shapely ass of Miss Tamala swaying back and forth as she made her way over to her desk. She could see the muscles of the calves of her legs bulge out when she put the weight of her body on one of her high heeled shoes ... then the other. And she heard the 'click', 'click' of Miss Tamala's high heels as she walked on the shiny hardwood floor ... the same hardwood floor that she was not allowed to walk on with shoes. Another little seed of unworthiness was planted in Lynn's mind ... 'Miss Tamala is superior to me.'

Miss Tamala looked over her shoulder just once to see this beautiful white bitch following her without any shoes on, struggling to carry all her things, her hot cup of coffee burning her hand and she was pleased with the progress she was making in completely dominating Lynn. She couldn't help herself now; her juices were building up in her pussy. "I can't wait too damn long," she was saying to herself, "this fucking bitch is making me hot."

"Put my briefcase, purse, your workbook and coffee on my desk. Be sure to put the coffee on the coaster. I never want to see anything out of order on my desk. Do you understand?" Miss Tamala said in a very stern voice while looking directly into Lynn's eyes.

"Yes Miss Talama," answered Lynn.

Lynn had put the briefcase, purse, and workbook down but when she went to put the hot coffee cup on the coaster she was having some difficulty. The hot cup was stinging her hand so much that her hand was shaking. To make matters worst, the coaster was just a little smaller than the plastic coffee cup and she was terrified that it wouldn't fit on it. "It might leave a mark on Miss Tamala's desk," she was thinking, "and Miss Tamala might be upset with me."

Once again Miss Tamala watched with amusement how the nervous Lynn was trying so hard not to do anything that would upset her. She had purposely put the undersized coaster on her desk knowing it would be difficult to make the coffee cup fit on it. Miss Tamala had a knowing smile on her face. "It is even more amusing when the cup is hot," she thought.

Lynn finally managed to get the hot cup on the coaster. Then she turned to face Miss Tamala. She was visibly shaking now, especially her reddened hand. But Miss Tamala could also see her whole body quiver with little telltale signs of nervousness every once in a while and she was enjoying it. Her dominant mind was racing again. "Look at this mother fucking white bitch shake," she was thinking, "this is going much easier than I thought."

Lynn didn't know what to do. She was thinking of just running out of there. But for some reason her legs weren't cooperating. Then she was so close to this domineering beautiful black woman that she could smell her perfume and that was taking its toll on her senses. She had been looking into her black eyes just waiting to be told to do something but the silence of Miss Tamala was even more intimidating. Finally she just lowered her head.

Miss Tamala saw the head lower. She saw what she wanted to see. She saw the submissiveness in this white bitch standing in front of her bubbling to the surface and it was setting her on fire. She felt the twitching in her pussy demanding attention and the dampness building up to uncontainable proportions. "Now", her mind was telling her, "take this bitch down completely now."

"Go over to that closet. There is a pair of my loafers that I wear while I am working in there. Bring them over here to my desk," she told Lynn changing the pitch of her voice to a soft and sulky tone. The change in voice tones was also second nature to Miss Tamala by now. She knew just when to instill fear by changing the pitch of her voice and when to bring the feelings of fear down in her 'projects'.

"Yes Miss Tamala," answered Lynn from the bowed position of her head. The softer voice pitch of Miss Tamala seemed to calm down Lynn as she made her way to the closet. As Lynn was walking to the closet thoughts were going through her mind again: "Why does this woman have this effect on me ... she scares me and yet I don't know why I am doing everything she tells me to ..."

Lynn returned with the loafers and stood in front of Miss Tamala again. She wanted to say something but her nervousness kept her mouth from working. She felt so empty, like a little child waiting to be told what to do, like she just couldn't or didn't dare say a word for fear of doing something wrong. Little by little her dependence on Miss Tamala for guidance was growing and she didn't even realize it.

Again Miss Tamala deliberately kept her silence. She let Lynn stand in front of her, speechless and looking so stupid. Then she finally spoke. "Put the loafers down, reach under my skirt and remove my nylons," she told Lynn. "And try your best not to touch my skin."

That last order struck Lynn like a ton of bricks. She got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. "What ... did she hear right? ... remove her ... what? ..." her mind was processing thoughts so fast she felt dizzy. "Did she really expect me ... me ... Lynn Langley ...to do that?????" Silence ... more silence ... neither Miss Tamala nor Lynn said a word.

The silence lasted for a few more seconds, like a jostling match ... someone had to give in. Someone had to break the silence. Lynn looked into those eyes, the eyes of Miss Tamala that seemed to know everything; the penetrating eyes that reached right into her soul. Lynn pressed her lips together; she swallowed hard, so hard that the gulping sound it made could clearly be heard.

She knelt down slowly and her hands were starting up under Miss Tamala's skirt.

She was very nervous. Before yesterday her hands had never been here ... at least not with another woman. Yesterday Miss Tamala's hands guided her hand. Today she was on her own. When her trembling hands passed Miss Tamala's knees she could feel the body heat coming from Miss Tamala's legs. She tried to keep her hands against the leather skirt so she wouldn't touch Miss Tamala's skin as she was instructed. Now her hands were reaching what had been for her before today a 'forbidden zone.' Her hands were near the top of Miss Tamala's thighs. She had to move her body closer to be able to reach up under the skirt this far. Lynn felt the softness of the leather skirt brush against her face as she very lightly groped for the garter belt hooks.

Miss Tamala was ecstatic. She didn't expect to make this much 'progress' with Lynn this fast. She was looking down at the kneeling white bitch ... the pretty model features of her face, the shoulder length brown hair and she could feel that dominant superior arousal building up inside of her. "God damn it," she thought, "she has got me so damn horny. But I have to play with her more. I have to get her so damn aroused that she will do anything I tell her. Patience Tamala, patience ..." she kept telling herself. "I have to get her pussy juices flowing, got to get her to her peak, then I will have her, I will own the fucking bitch body and soul."

After Lynn had the garter belt hooks unfastened on Miss Tamala's leg, she tried to ease the nylon stocking down. But the nylon stocking was filled to capacity by the thickness of the Miss Tamala's thigh. Lynn didn't know where to put her fingers without touching the skin.

"You have my permission to touch my skin while you are taking my stockings off," Miss Tamala said. "Use the palm of your hands and roll them down slowly so you don't put a run in them with your fingernails."

The words 'my permission' had a psychological impact on Lynn. Again she felt like a little child that needed 'permission' to do something. Just like yesterday when she was sitting in that little chair. She was 'told' to sit in that chair. Today she was again being exposed to orders ... 'do this'... 'follow me' ... 'put this here'... 'put that there'... 'you have my permission'... 'permission'... 'permission'...

The relationship between Lynn Langley and Tamala Barker was changing. Lynn could feel the change taking place deep inside her psyche. And so could Tamala. The relationship was no longer of an 'intern' applying for a job from a potential 'employer.' Now the relationship between Lynn Langley, the 26 year old young woman was becoming one of the 'student' and the forty year old Tamala Barker, the 'teacher'.

Lynn could feel the wonderful sensations pulsating through her body as she used the palms of her hands to roll down the nylon stocking. Not only could she feel the warmness of Miss Tamala's legs, but she could feel the shape of her legs. Starting at the fullness of the thigh and sloping down, over her knee, down again and over the calf, down until she was at Miss Tamala's ankle. Lynn did the same to the other leg. By the time she had both of Miss Tamala's nylon stockings at her ankles she could feel her own panties getting wet. She was almost flowing, her lubricants involuntarily doing their job, and she could feel the tingling starting deep somewhere high up in her vagina.

Miss Tamala looked down again at the kneeling white bitch. She was ready to take the next step with Lynn and she was getting anxious to see how Lynn would react. She leaned back on the desk until her buttocks were resting on the edge of the desk. "Take my shoes off and then remove my stockings from my feet," she said to Lynn again in a soft voice. Her mind was telling her, "it is time to go softly with her". She was confident that Lynn was crossing over into a new world. "Fold my stockings up very carefully starting with the toe and make sure they are perfectly folded and wrinkle free."

Lynn didn't answer this time. Miss Tamala's first impulse was to push the fact that she didn't answer with the customary 'Yes Miss Tamala' but she thought better of it because Lynn only hesitated for a moment before she began to remove her shoes and then her stockings. She also didn't want to interrupt the trance like atmosphere that she had Lynn in. She watched as the very nervous Lynn almost reverently removed these articles of clothing. She watched as Lynn very carefully folded the stockings up one fold at a time being sure that they were wrinkle free as she moved along.

Lynn, for her part, was feeling all kinds of new submissive emotions within herself. The fact that she was following instructions, obeying her beautiful 'teacher' was making her nipples spring to live, and little quivers of excitement were shooting up the nerve systems of the twin mounds and making the rosy peaks hard. When she had completed her assigned task she sat back on her haunches and didn't even make an attempt to stand up. It was beginning to feel 'natural' to be on her knees in front of Miss Tamala.

Miss Tamala pulled her chair over close and in front of Lynn, sat down and handed Lynn her workbook. "Read the complete sentences in your workbook out loud to me including the word or words you used to fill in the blanks," she said in a little louder and more firm tone of voice. Lynn opened the workbook and began to read:

"Miss Tamala is very smart."

"Miss Tamala is very beautiful."

"Miss Tamala has beautiful breasts."

"Miss Tamala has beautiful eyes."

"Miss Tamala has beautiful lips."

It was one thing for Lynn to write the answers to the questions down in her workbook but it took on a whole new meaning mentally as she was reciting them out loud. Miss Tamala watched Lynn very carefully, watched her every reaction as the complimentary words were vocalized and absorbed in her mind. She slowly moved her bare foot up and rested it on Lynn's shoulder. When Lynn felt the foot on her shoulder she stopped reading almost on impulse. "Keeping reading, I didn't tell you to stop!" Miss Tamala said to Lynn, the soft seductive voice gone and the firm stern voice back again.

"Miss Tamala has beautiful legs."

"Miss Tamala has beautiful feet."

Miss Tamala was rubbing her foot in little circular motions on Lynn's shoulder. She was admiring the contrast of her brown foot on the Lynn's beige blouse. She had a pedicure that morning at the salon. Her toes were highly polished in a violet shade to match her eye shadow and lipstick. "As I recall there was another line in your workbook that you skipped over, wasn't there?" Miss Tamala said to Lynn in coyly questioning tone of voice. She knew Lynn had indeed skipped a line.

Lynn also knew she purposely skipped a line. She was blushing so much now that she had been 'caught' and Miss Tamala loved watching her face getting red. But Lynn was so nervous she didn't answer again. "That's twice she didn't acknowledge an order or a question," Miss Tamala was thinking, "I will over look it for now but that is a correction I will have to make in her attitude," she promised herself.

"Read it!" Miss Tamala ordered Lynn sternly. As she said this she had moved her foot over to the side of Lynn's face. She tapped the side of Lynn's face abruptly and pushed her toes inward on Lynn's cheek just hard enough to leave a few red indentations on Lynn's cheek with her toenails.

"Yes Miss Tamala," answered Lynn in a low voice. Then she read the line she had skipped: "Miss Tamala has a beautiful ass."

Words like 'ass,' 'tits,' 'cunt' or 'pussy' had never been a part of Lynn's vocabulary and she was deeply embarrassed to have to use them now. Miss Tamala surmised this and enjoyed watching Lynn's embarrassment.

Miss Tamala sat back in her chair, raised her other foot and rested it on Lynn's other shoulder. This last move brought Miss Tamala's skirt high up on her thighs. Lynn for the first time in her life had a view of Miss Tamala's pussy. It became obvious that Miss Tamala was not wearing panties. All Lynn could see was the garter belt with the empty clasps hanging there. Her exposed pussy was giving off a slight musky scent and it filled Lynn's nostrils. Lynn's heart was beating a little faster. She had never been this close to another woman in this fashion before. The combination of the scent and closeness was raising Lynn's excitement even higher. Miss Tamala had a smile on her face. "It is so sweet to watch this bitch surrendering her will a little at a time," she was thinking.

"Touch my legs, starting at the ankles, and softly around my calves and then around the back of my knees," Miss Tamala instructed Lynn.

"Yes Miss Tamala," answered Lynn, as her white young hands touched Miss Tamala's brown ankles. Lynn ran her hands all around Miss Tamala's ankles then started upward around both calves. "Funny," Lynn thought, "for some reason she always thought that the brown skin of an African American would be rough. But Miss Tamala's skin was soft and pliable. It felt so good," Lynn continued thinking, "to be kneeling in front these wonderful legs, feeling the muscles of her calves, the warm moisture of sweat in back of her knees and especially the smell of her skin". The closeness of it all even brought a little wicked smile to Lynn's face.

Miss Tamala noticed the little lustful smile on Lynn's face too. She removed her legs from Lynn's shoulders and reached down to loosen the buttons on Lynn's blouse. When she had all the buttons undone and Lynn's pretty white bra came into view, Miss Tamala felt the outline of Lynn's breasts by gripping and squeezing the twin mounds through the silky bra fabric. Lynn's breathing became heavy when she felt the first contact of Miss Tamala's hands on her breasts.

"Nice," Miss Tamala said, "nice size and solid. I like their structure," she continued speaking to Lynn as though she was evaluating a piece of meat. "Now bend your head down," she told Lynn

.

Lynn moved her head down so her back was arched toward Miss Tamala. She felt Miss Tamala's hands go down the back of her loosened blouse and unhook the bra clasps. Miss Tamala picked Lynn's head back up just enough to reach down the front of the now loosened bra. She cupped both of Lynn's bare breasts with her hands, flesh upon flesh. She cupped and squeezed, ran her fingers around the nipples which were both totally engorged with excitement and hard by now. She flicked her long and polished finger nails back and forth across Lynn's nipples.

"Oh ... oooohhh ... God ... ooooohhh," came Lynn's low gasping muttering voice. She could feel what seemed like every nerve in her breasts pounding.

Miss Tamala caught Lynn's hardened nipples between her finger and her thumb. She pulled them outward a little ... a little more ... and a little more as she seemed to be testing the nipples elasticity. "Pretty good," she said to Lynn, "but I like longer nipples ... I like them a lot longer ... like this!!!" Miss Tamala said in a much louder voice as she squeezed and pulled very hard at Lynn's nipples until their extension doubled in length.

"Aaaaaaahhhh ... ouch, ouch, ouchhhhh ... please, please," Lynn cried out loud as she pulled back from Miss Tamala's hands.

'Slap,' the loud sound of Miss Tamala's hand striking Lynn's face filled the office room. The slap was hard but not nearly as hard as Miss Tamala was capable of applying. But it was hard enough to leave the imprint of her hand on Lynn's perfect complexion. "You dumb fucking slut, don't you ever pull away from me ... ever ... do you understand?" Miss Tamala shouted at Lynn.

'Slut' ... the word itself reverberated in Lynn's mind. 'Slut'... Lynn had never in her 26 years had been called a 'slut.' It was like another switch had been turned on in her brain and the electricity it generated was flowing through out her submissive body. "Yes Miss Talama", she answered, in a low shaking voice, feeling the heat and stinging on her face from the slap she had just received.

Miss Tamala knew she was the first female to ever touch Lynn in this sexual manner. She knew she was the first female to ever squeeze her breasts, to feel, tease, and pinch her tits. She also knew she was the first female to ever slap her face and to discipline her. "Look at the bitch," she was thinking, "with blouse opened down the front, her bra hanging down from her shoulders exposing her tits, her nipples hard with desire, red from the pulling she just had administered, and her face beat red with the imprint of her hand." The more she looked at this sight on the floor kneeling before her, the more her juices flowed.

"I'm ready," she thought as the pulsating of her pussy was building up. She opened her desk drawer, took out a large comb and two ribbons. She reached over and pulled Lynn's head between her legs just knee high. She took the comb and parted Lynn's shoulder length soft brown hair in the middle. She then pulled half of the parted hair back until she made a pony tail almost on top of Lynn's head. She tied the ribbon in a bow around the pony tail. Then she did the same on the other side of Lynn's head. Lynn didn't move except to follow the lead of Miss Tamala's hand. When she was through fixing Lynn's hair the way she wanted it, she pulled Lynn's head back so she was only six inches from her face. Miss Tamala stared into Lynn's eyes.

"May as well get your fucking hair out of the way," she said to Lynn. "You won't need it where your head is going," she continued with a sadistic laugh. Miss Tamala loved to watch the shocked expression on Lynn's face when she used this derogatory choice of words while talking to her. She held Lynn's head backward with one hand while she reached into the desk drawer again and this time took out a tube of lipstick. Pulling backward on Lynn's hair by one of the pony tails so her face was pointed upward toward Miss Tamala, she applied a heavy coat of lipstick to Lynn's lips even smudging some outside of the lip line. She then applied the lipstick to each of Lynn's cheeks in two red round solid circles. She put the lipstick down on the desk and rubbed the lipstick on each of Lynn's cheeks very hard with her fingers in circular motions until her cheeks were bright red. When Miss Tamala was satisfied she was done applying the makeup, she reached into the desk drawer once more and took out a large hand mirror. She pointed it at Lynn's face.

"What do you see bitch," she said to Lynn.

"I ... I ...," Lynn couldn't get any words out of her mouth. When she looked at herself in the mirror she saw the two pony tails with ribbons, the extremely heavy coat of lipstick smudged on her face and the very red solid circles Miss Tamala had made on her face cheeks.

"I see a fucking slut," Miss Tamala told Lynn. "Now, let's try again dummy," she said again to Lynn. "What do you see?"

"I ... I see a ... I see a ... a ... a slut," Lynn looking at herself in the mirror finally got the words out of her mouth.

"What kind of slut stupid," Miss Tamala said in a chastising voice to Lynn.

"I ... I see a ... a fucking slut Miss Tamala," Lynn answered. As she was saying what Miss Tamala wanted to hear, these self-degrading words she was using to describe herself were causing new stirrings deep within Lynn psyche. She was losing whatever control of herself she had left.

Miss Tamala pulled Lynn a little closer, put both of her strong legs over Lynn's shoulders, leaned back in her chair and with both of her hands gripping Lynn's new pony tails started to lead Lynn's head in between her legs.

Lynn immediately felt the heat between the heavy dark thighs. The womanly musk scent was everywhere. The scent was making Lynn's head spin as her face got closer to the 'forbidden' area. Her eyes were wide with excitement as she saw the dark vagina lips so close to her mouth. The outer vagina lips were dark brown, but they gave way to a lighter brown inner vagina lips, then a pinkness ... a very wet pinkness. She felt Miss Tamala's hands move from the pony tails on her head to the sides of her face. Miss Tamala gripped each of Lynn' cheeks with her palms on the cheeks and her fingers under Lynn's chin guiding her mouth very slowly to her pussy. "Stick your tongue out and just taste the places my hands lead your mouth for now," she told Lynn.

Lynn heard the words. Her whole body was shaking with desire, a desire she had never felt before. She stuck her tongue out just as Miss Tamala had instructed her. For some reason she didn't quite understand she felt the need to be obedient. The first thing Lynn felt was the pretty ringlets of Miss Tamala's pubic hair on the sides of her face from the ringlets that were on the upper part of Miss Tamala's thighs. They were very wet, somewhat coarse and in massive amounts. It seemed to Lynn that there were ringlets of hair everywhere. As her mouth neared Miss Tamala's pussy, her face became almost buried in the jet black ringlets. Hair was all around the front of her face. Her nose was buried in hair. It was all around her mouth and tongue and then ... then her tongue made contact with the soft wet outer pussy lips. She moved her tongue up the outside of the slit she found there and scooped up a generous amount of pussy nectar. Lynn's senses were filled with the musky scent of another woman and now her taste buds were savoring the juices causing this scent. She was having a hard time controlling herself. Her mind was telling her ... "go deeper, go deeper"... but she couldn't because Miss Tamala's hands were controlling the movements of her head.

Miss Tamala leaned even more forward in her chair. The lower part of her body was almost hanging off the chair. This movement caused almost the whole length of her legs to now be draped over Lynn's shoulders. Her soft leather skirt was all the way up on the top part of her stomach exposing her complete lower torso. "Follow my hands slut," she said to Lynn in a raspy, excited tone of voice.

Miss Tamala hands guided Lynn's face lower. Lynn felt her tongue going back down the pussy slit, down lower until she felt the curvature of Miss Tamala's ass coming up. A new scent filled her nostrils. It was stronger then the pussy scent but not at all repulsive to Lynn. Lynn was so sexually aroused by this time that every new 'secret' scent filled her with a new arousal. Lynn's forehead was resting on Miss Tamala pussy slit. It was soaked with Miss Tamala's pussy juices and buried in the ringlets of the jet black pubic hair. Her nose was pressed against the very bottom of Miss Tamala's ass cheeks and her tongue was still hanging out.

"Taste me there," Miss Tamala instructed Lynn.

Lynn was truly frightened. As Miss Tamala lowered Lynn's head even further she also raised her own ass upward. Lynn could now feel the solid globes of Miss Tamala's ass on her face. Her nose was at the beginning of the crack and her tongue was still hanging out. The scent was very strong and it frightened Lynn even more. Lynn's mind was working again as she heard herself repeating under her breath ... "taste me there"... "taste me there." "Did she dare," she asked herself.

Miss Tamala's hands didn't move Lynn's head or mouth any further. "This is a choice I want her to make," she was thinking. "If this bitch sucks me there I know she will belong to me. What a way to surrender, to give herself to me," she continued thinking. She laid her head back on her chair and closed her eyes. She had a big smile on her face as she thought ... "go ahead bitch, go ahead and suck my asshole," as though she was trying very hard to pass her thoughts telepathically on to Lynn.

Lynn made the move. Whether it was caused by her own state of arousal or an urge to degrade herself further to please Miss Tamala, it didn't matter any more. Lynn's tongue made its way to the pretty puckered asshole. Her whole face was buried between Miss Tamala's ass cheeks. When she ran her tongue around Miss Tamala's asshole she seemed to be pleased with herself. She knew in her mind that she was doing something she would never have even dreamed of doing before today and she felt her heart pounding. She was proud of herself ... "yes," she was saying to herself, "I did it ... I did it for Miss Tamala."

She felt the pulsating contraction of Miss Tamala's splinter muscles loosening up, then tightening again, loosening up once more. It was as though Miss Tamala's asshole was beckoning her tongue, daring her tongue to go further. And Lynn did. She pushed until her tongue parted the asshole muscles and was now inside. When she did this she felt Miss Tamala push her ass further into her face and then she heard Miss Tamala's voice.

"Yes ... yeessss, oh ... oooohhhhhh, yes, you motherfucking bitch ... suck, suck you little fucking whore," she heard Miss Tamala highly charged voice telling her. The words she was hearing from Miss Tamala were flashing through Lynn's mind: "Yes, I am pleasing her, she likes it ... she likes me to do this." By making Miss Tamala feel good, Lynn, in her own submissive way, was totally absorbed in the moment. She felt like she had felt in the bathroom last night when she masturbated. And ... she wanted so much to masturbate again ... again while she was sucking Miss Tamala's asshole.

Miss Tamala was deeply satisfied with herself. She knew without a doubt that a complete power exchange was taking place. Lynn, by taking this extraordinary step of self-degradation was becoming a tool for her pleasure. She especially loved the feeling of the slavish tongue of this white bitch in her sensitive asshole. She could feel the rapid contractions building up in her pussy and her juices were flowing like a river. She knew she couldn't resist this build up much longer.

Lynn also knew something was taking place between herself and Miss Tamala. And instead of being repulsed she was excited. It felt so good to surrender to Miss Tamala. It felt so good to bring pleasure to this beautiful strong Black woman. Her head was spinning with the sounds and words coming from the excited voice of Miss Tamala.

Miss Tamala removed her hands from Lynn's face and reached back to grab both of the pony tails she had made in Lynn's hair. She pulled on the pony tails until Lynn's head was pointed upward and she could look into her face. She looked at the perverse smile of submissive satisfaction on Lynn's face. The corners of her mouth were turned upward and her face was covered with pussy juices. The heavy layer of lipstick she had applied to Lynn's face was now completely smeared. She lowered her own face until she was six inches above Lynn's face. She looked into Lynn's lust filled and glazed eyes.

"Watch my lips ... watch my lips," Miss Tamala said to Lynn in a sexy soft voice as she made circular motions with her lips and she was drawing her cheeks in and out. "Open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out," she again ordered Lynn.

Lynn immediately obeyed. Her mouth sprung open and her tongue came out as she stared at the creamy red lips of Miss Tamala. Somewhere deep inside of her body Lynn knew what was coming. She didn't care. In a perverse way, she welcomed it. She watched the red lips above her part. She saw an enormous amount of thick salvia form between the red lips, then very slowly in a long string start to drop toward her mouth. She felt it hit her outstretched tongue and build up in capacity and roll backward. Her mouth was filling so fast that her impulse was to swallow. But again she heard instructions coming from Miss Tamala.

"Don't you fucking swallow bitch," Miss Tamala told her, "just keep your head tilted back and let it slide down your throat," Miss Tamala continued instructing Lynn.

Miss Tamala became even more excited if that was possible watching Lynn obeying every instruction she was giving her. When the last of her salvia disappeared down Lynn's throat and she heard a gulping sound come from deep within Lynn, she pulled her head back in between her strong legs until Lynn's face was buried in her pussy. She roughly rubbed Lynn's face around her sopping wet pussy until her face was soaked all over again.

"Use your tongue shit head," she yelled at Lynn. "Use your lips, suck, suck, suck," she was continuing to yell at Lynn. The more she yelled, the more Lynn responded and the harder she tried to follow Miss Tamala's instructions. "Yes, yes," she told Lynn, "that's it ... that's my clit ... yeesssss, yeessss, take it between your lips and suck on it ... ooohhhhh, ooooohhhh, shit ... you have a good mouth ... a good mouth ... you're a good sucker ... I'm cumming ... oh, shit, I'm cumming ..." Miss Tamala gyrated her hips, bucked up and down as though she was trying to fuck Lynn's whole face. Then the final downward contractions came, Miss Tamala pulled Lynn's head inward as hard as she could as she released an explosive orgasm. "Aaaahhhhhh, aaahhhhhhhhhhh," the final deep gasps came from Miss Tamala as she eased herself down from this delicious sexual high plateau she had just experienced. "Slowly now," she was giving Lynn her final instructions, "suck slowly now, just lap at my pussy with your tongue little whore."

Lynn felt like she was soaring somewhere in outer space. She was breathing heavy, heavier than she ever had in her life. Her panties were totally soaked and she wanted so bad to put her fingers down there, to touch herself. The voice of Miss Tamala calling her a 'slut,' a 'whore'... teaching her how to suck ... had all filled her submissive mind to overflowing. "Yes," she was thinking, "that's what I am. I'm Miss Tamala's slut. I'm Miss Tamala's whore."

Miss Tamala eased her legs off of Lynn's shoulders. She knew Lynn was sexually charged and her arousal was at a peak. She saw that Lynn had one of her hands under her own skirt. "Take your fucking hand away from your cunt you little pig," she scolded Lynn. "Don't you ever put your hand there again without my permission," she continued.

"Ye ... yes ... yes Miss Tamala," Lynn answered in a shaky voice as she removed her hand. She was still breathing heavy. Her panties were soaked and her whole crotch was wet. The muscles in her vagina were pushing downward in little spasms. She knew all she had to do was rub her clit a few times and she would explode into a blissful orgasm.

But it wasn't to be. Miss Tamala had some important decisions for Lynn to make in the next few minutes and she wanted to keep Lynn at her highest sexual arousal so she would make them while her mind was full of sexual emotions.

Miss Tamala grabbed Lynn very hard by both of her ears so she could again look into her face. "Look at me, look into my eyes and listen. Listen to me very carefully," she said. "Where are you staying and what kind of living arrangements do you have."

"The Imperial Motel Miss Tamala," Lynn answered. "I have my room rented on a night to night basis."

"OK, good," Miss Tamala replied. "You have some decisions to make. I will be giving you a few choices. But first let me inform you again, as I did yesterday, that everything that has taken place in my office has been recorded on video tape. Of course, if anyone was to view this tape they would see exactly what happened in this room. I am sure it wouldn't take much for anyone to understand that you were not forced to do anything against your will. Rather, I would think, they would see a very cooperative young lady performing oral sex on me not to mention a few other acts."

"Now for the choices you have," Miss Tamala continued talking to Lynn as they looked into each other's eyes. "First, you can get yourself cleaned up and leave here today. I will give you six months salary. I will also give you an excellent evaluation that will assure you of placement in an excellent law firm upon your graduation. In exchange you will never, I repeat never, talk to anyone about anything that happened here the last few days. Remember, I have the video tape and I can assure you I will defend myself vigorously."

Lynn, being held firmly by the grip Miss Tamala had on her ears, her face smeared with lipstick and Miss Tamala's pussy juices and her heart still beating rapidly from her sexual arousal was now listening intently.

"Secondly", Miss Tamala was talking again, "you can decide to stay with me and my company. If you decide to stay, you will be required to move into my home tonight. There you will undergo an extensive training program for the next three months. This will complete your internship at the end of which I will offer you further choices. You have one minute to make your decision."

Lynn's mind was working rapidly. She thought of her fiancé David. She thought of the youth group she had helped to establish back home. She wasn't breathing as fast now but her ears were hurting from the tight grip Miss Tamala had on them. She looked at this beautiful Black woman and thought about what she had just done. It was all so new to her. Yet she couldn't deny that it all lit a fire within her body that she had never known before. The more she thought of sucking Miss Tamala's pussy and her ass, the more her arousal was renewing itself.

"Please Miss Tamala," Lynn said in a very subdued voice. "I want to stay with you."

"Good," Miss Tamala said with a smile on her face. "I had a feeling you would take the second choice you little fucking white whore. You have a good mouth and tongue and I am looking forward to your training program."

As soon as Lynn heard Miss Tamala referring to her as a 'fucking white whore' she knew deep within her submissive soul that she had made the correct choice. The power exchange between Lynn Langley and Ms. Tamala Barker was complete. She was about to begin her training and a new way of life.

(To be continued .........)