Sorcha Courtisan Demoiselle Initiation Page Two
The Second Opener & User
Sorcha replies, soft as her ripped gown. "I am ready, my Master." She is a mess. She is the very vision of a woman ripped apart. Ready. Roissy-red. She is wet with sweat. Her eyes can't stop crying. And behind the waterfall of all her tears, a flame flickers within. A candle in the night. His night. Their night. She is the flame in his eyes' sky. She sees him. She hears him.
'My Master.' She's staring into those perfect mirrors. Her mirrors, though, have been cracked. She's finding it hard to breathe. There's so much red. Red marks. Red stains. Two halves of a very red heart. His hands feel so nice. It doesn't feel anything like she'd imagined. The flame in her eyes flickers brighter. She swears she sees sparks. His voice has a hold of her throat. She feels so tiny. Vulnerable. The song of her heart swears she'll make him proud. Her 'Rene' tells her he loves her, is with her in all things, good and bad. And so, she weeps. She parts her knees. Spreads her thighs. Her tight pussy cries. Big tears. Little tears. Her pearl of a clitty is angry-red. Her nipples, too.
Storm takes Sorcha's leash from Ayita with a smile in trade. His hand hauls Sorcha close by her throat. Beds her face in the hot, red wedge of his neck. Buries her titties into his blockhouse chest. Cranks her ass up by the hand on her tiny pussy. Scrubs it. Makes pink lips kiss slippery. Chokes her clitty with his palm's lifeline. His other grasp wraps the chains about the spill of Sorcha's hair. About Sorcha's wrists. About her. His voice sews burlap through her skin.
"You will serve. With passion. With fire. With all my pride. You will serve our estate. You serve it by serving me. You are a good girl. Always." Storm covers Sorcha's little cunt with a big, safe hand. Covers her ass' hole with a big, threatening finger. His eyes stay on hers. She is wrapped in them. Chained. Storm stays. “Forever, my baby girl.” He moves Sorcha toward the bench.
Sorcha graces Heaven's Gates, tears and all. She lets it all out. She cries like a woman that's just been beaten. She has been beaten. Oh, how it stings. How it broke her heart but not her loyalty. Or her obedient nature. Her love for him is total. Her love for Roissy is true. Her eyes now shine. Their flame is alive. They flicker like the flag of France. She battles all fears. A storm stirs in her tummy. He has her. After the bath of many words, she breathes.
"Yes, my Master." Then, her throat is taken. Her slick cunt is seized. Her clitty - palmed flat - sends slivers of shivers up her spine. This, tightens the face of her taut tummy. This, has her breasts swelling. Nipples hard. Sensitive. Her lips reach for the breeze of his thumb. A pretty smile hints at her pink lips. The lips of her pussy are always pink.
"I am yours, my Master." The tone of her voice is like a tiny locket. She had forgotten the chains. Till now. When she's lead from the post. Her knees are shaking and weak. The chains clink; their sound is a needle in the neck. She relaxes. Lifted. Sorcha knows that he will set her free.
Storm's eyes drink all Sorcha cries: The tears. The red. The flame. Heaven's window does not crack. "I have you, my baby girl. It's time to cry. You're safe to. You're safe. To let it all out." Storm's words rinse her face. One hand wrestles from between her thighs. Both his hands lift. Storm's hand takes Sorcha's throat. Storm's hand takes Sorcha's cunt. Angry-red is palmed flat and splat. Breathless lips are breezed by his thumb.
"You're free now. You're mine." Storm lifts Sorcha, leads away from post, until the chains slip from the Hangman to swing behind her. They stroke the bench as Storm lowers her toward it.
Sorcha’s face is buried. Titties too. She's trying to hide in his breast pocket. She prays there - in this Holy, dark place – and her prayers are always answered. His voice is approval's thunder. She shudders. She arches, her ass raised high. Her pussy chokes on its creamy tears. Her pussy smiles pretty. The lips of her pussy pucker for a kiss made slippery pink. Her Master makes the prettiest, the shiniest, the best of her hair. It's what the best of ponytails look like. He makes her a perfected 'O'. It has to be. Her wrists feel just right. She struggles to leave her hiding place. She has his lifeline. He has hers. And with every one of his words, her titties press hard, harder, hardest to his chest.
She wants to crawl inside of him. Live there forever. Forever and always. And how she wants him inside of her. She's always dreamed of this very day. He's coming. He's going to put himself in her. She will serve. She will serve with passion. Dignity. Pride. She will serve the Roissy estate. Over and over, his words echo. 'You serve it by serving me. You are a good girl.'
Her cunt weeps into the palm of his hand. Sorcha tosses her head from the closet of his chest. She has to. She hangs over the balcony of his bent arm.
"Please, my Master. No, please, my Master. Yes, I mean, my Master." She can't make up her mind. Her body speaks for her. It has a mind of its very own. It needs. He is already fucking her with his words. He's in her head. He's in her eyes. She cannot break the chains. Doesn't want to. She knows her place.
She whines, "I will serve, my Master. I promise. Swear to God." Sorcha hisses. Lust takes her. She shivers. Shakes.
"Master. Please. You must have me. You must take me. I'll be a very good girl. Cross my heart." She lifts her head when his finger threatens her bottom. She looks him in his eyes. Sweat sparkles her very pink cheeks.
"Hope to die. I really, really need you."
Their scene flows like a chapter from a novel, perfectly fitted with synergy, taking us into their private world, their private D/s style, until at last, after multiple professions of love and "until death" vows, he has found her pleasing and presents her back to Maitre Dusty for the completion of her ceremony.
The Demoiselle Title
Dusty Caldera nods at the rather eloquent and verbose display of assessing her willingness to commit to service "Thank you, Storm, Ayita For evaluating this girl...." Then turns to René "Rene; we present this girl Sorcha to you for approval of her new role as demoiselle of Roissy....."
Maitre René says, "Thanks my friend Dusty."
Dusty Caldera looks back at Sorcha,"KNEEL before Rene!" She rises, then kneels again, still not facing Maitre René but rather her own Master.
Maitre René stands up and wait for one of his favorite songs, Champs-Élysées. When it comes onto the radio, he smiles and hums along then looks at Storm, "Thank you for sharing your girl with our community," he says.
Sir Storm nods deeply to Rene, keeping proud eyes locked on him.
Maitre René looks at the submissive kneeling before him.
"Sorcha, it is a pleasure for me to congratulate you on your Submissive Path milestone achievement today. I look forward to seeing you continue and for you to grow in your submission as your training progresses on the Demoiselle Path to Sisterhood.
"You have not had a long time as a Debutante and I trust you will make speedy use of your time in executing your next phase."
He smiles and looks into her eyes.
"Time is of the essence as they say and it's true. Everything boils down to how you spend your time. No one can save time for another day... no... hmm, it cannot be rolled over and accumulated. So it must just be spent." He glances around the room.
Sorch blushes, dipping her soft chin. Her eyes never leave his. "Thank you so much, Maitre Rene. Thank you for having me and for your wisdom."
At the sound of her voice, Maitre René smiles and look down at her, continuing. "Just how does it all get spent depends on the person.
"So Sorcha, make the best of your time and enjoy the life you make for yourself." He studies her face for a moment, his thumb crushing her soft, full bottom lip under it. " I think your time has been wisely spent for you have used it to prepare you for showing a true gift of submission to the Dominant's of the Roissy Val d'Oise Chateau.
She places a soft, quick kiss upon the pad of his thumb.
"Demoiselle Sorcha, Be a loyal and devoted Demoiselle. Show your obedience as a submissive who respects our tradition and follows our rules. Make your home here, at Roissy Val d'Oise. Share your time here and find your place in the day to day life and chores of maintaining our lovely community. Only you can find where your role, above submissive, might be here at Roissy. I look forward to seeing you again at your Sister Graduation." He gently strokes her cheek
"Thank you, Maitre. With all I am, I promise to be loyal, devoted, and obedient. I will make the most of 'home.'"
"Thanks," he replies as she smiles at the stroke of her cheek. Finally, she can really smile.
"Please everyone let's give congratulations to this lovely girl," invites Maitre René. "Congratulations Demoiselle Sorcha."
Smiling, he steps back and sits down.
After a few fitting words made by Maitre Dusty, Sir Storm escorts the new Demoiselle to aftercare and the ceremony ends.
Juliette SurrealDreaming
Roissy Journaliste
