Leased Women Pt. 08: Grace

(Miss Grace profusely apologises for splitting her 'origin story' in two.

"I am attempting to cover five years! There will be some 'fast-forwarding;' but not as yet.

Do enjoy!")

It started when I was too young to talk about it here. No! My father never touched me, and he waited until I was eighteen years and one day old before that whole crazy nudity thing.

That sounds bad. I am making him seem so bloody awful already and my story has just begun!

Sigh! I shall start again and say that it all started when my mother left... for good. You will notice I do not call her "Mom."

Cold she was...

Is the above line from a poem or a play? It is late at night and I am typing away on my secret iPad. At least: I think it's a secret! As I think that the twins are fast asleep.

Who can sleep?

After what happened tonight--perhaps my whole life has been and still is but a dream within a naked dream.

Have I lost you yet? This sexy girl will be very much all naked for you soon, if you want to merrily skip ahead to the good parts.

Mother left. Father told me: "you are all I have now."

He told me that often.

It was his shared mantra.

Mother was... always a mystery. She would be gone for weeks or even months at a time. We knew she worked for some "M. I." gobbledegook organisation.

And I don't mean 'Mission: Impossible!'

And to say that she was beautiful would be a waste of that overused word.

Can you do the below with AI now as what those lads did in 'Weird Science?'

Take Jenny Agutter, Jacqueline Bisset, Lesley-Anne Down, Pamela Franklin and add in Diana Rigg.

Mix well.

Chill overnight.

You will still not come up with the cool brunette beauty that was/perhaps still is my mother.

After she disappeared... for good it seemed... my father took me out of school.

Was he qualified to homeschool me?

Undoubtedly not.

Yet we had a combo VCR/DVD player that was his bragging pride and joy. I watched educational vids on Art, Literature, Music and Dance.

I wrote copious notes in a black and white composition book.

And he even made me dress the schoolgirl part in a crisp button-down white blouse, a rather short plaid skirt, and with white socks inside must-be-shiny black patent leather shoes.

1) Eighteen and One

I shall now much to the certain annoyance of my readers begin highlighting certain major periods and/or turning points in my admittedly young life with stilted chapter headings.

On the day after my eighteenth birthday, I emerged from my cramped en suite shower/bath into my bedroom.

This was what was then unashamedly called 'The Master.'

(My father gave me "their" room after She was gone.)

I emerged in nothing but my wet towel to find Father sitting on my bed.

"Father!"

He held up his hand.

"There are going to be some major changes and challenges to your young life. And they are coming up soon!

I should have better prepared you, but I so wanted you to enjoy what remained of your true teenaged years."

He held out his hand.

"Give me your towel."

My breath caught.

When at last I could speak:

"Father!"

He shook his head

"I am not going to touch you. I would never! But a girl... now a woman like yourself... you must prepare yourself for what shall come. A woman such as you... must be trained. And soon!

Your towel. Please."

I looked down at myself. At my cute but long legs and at my cute little bare feet with my should-be-patented cute little twinkle toes.

I unwrapped the towel without making it a tawdry strip.

I handed it to my father. I was naked for him. I tried to not look down.

I tried not to be ashamed.

He looked me over.

He shook his head.

"I have been told... that a young woman like you is one in four or five thousand.

Unparalleled, curvy beauty.

The sunniest disposition.

And a nonstop, burning desire to learn."

He looked into my eyes.

"You will do well."

He got up. He seemed momentarily perplexed as to what to do with the towel.

He turned to me.

"You shall remain quite nude as long as you are in this house."

Now my heart was beating as in 'call the doctor!'

"Just go about your normal business--only naked."

He paused at the door.

"There shall be a small party in a fortnight. Uncle Reg will be there.. with two... associates. In two weeks time, you should have grown quite comfortable in your own quite unparalleled and remarkably curvy bare skin."

He left.

He did not shut the door.

I was now a sweet young lady who had been forbidden by her own father to wear clothes in her own house.

2) A Small Party: who came before?

Are the chapter headings annoying you yet?

Are you, rather, wondering why a sweet little eighteen-year-old girl is submitting to all of this? Had I been abused? Was I being groomed?

In the presence of my mother, I grew up soaking in an atmosphere of mystery, of beauty... and yes: undeniable sexuality.

Mother was that kind of... there and yet still and always untouchable, a cooly beautiful mystery.

And I began thinking the same of myself.

I was lost in a fantasy that I was actually living out!

So for two weeks--I obviously did not leave the house!

"Brassieres and elastic panties are so restrictive," Father deigned to inform me over breakfast next. "Your body needs to adjust to doing without!"

There was one time that I was allowed out. It was only a test.

Father had me stay up 'til midnight.

He rummaged around in that old trunk of his that contained memorabilia of his days as a pugilist.

He came up with a white eye mask.

"You shall put this on."

I did.

"Now you shall go out and water our garden. Yourself!" he interjected, when I reached around for our watering can.

I stared at him. My eyes narrowed to try to focus on his unknown meaning.

"Yes. I mean with your own warm water!"

Then he unexpectedly was the one who broke off our gazing game.

Was HE getting uncomfortable with these games??

"You will truly be beginning your new life all too soon. They will take you away from me... though only for a while."

He looked back from the non-responsive wall.

"You will be doing many very exciting and very embarrassing things. You must learn to take that word--embarrassment--and throw it away as with a crumpled piece of used paper."

I was in a daze. It was a long speech for him. So that was why he had been plying me with his prized liquors tonight!

I had actually thought: 'this is it. He is going to take me!'

But no. Not dear Father.

"Now?!"

I peered out our grungy window... four floors up.

And he actually gave me a slap on my arse!

"It's midnight. It's a mite cloudy. Go!"

I was gasping as I ran down the stairs--stairs that we shared with the sweet older couple below.

But it was midnight.

The cool night air hit my nakedness as if hitting a wall. It knocked the breath out of me.

I slunk to our tiny garden plot in the shared courtyard. Eight two-storey units including ours.

There were lights on in one other.

I paused. I looked up at the sky.

"The moon was a ghostly galleon..." I whispered.

Now THAT was from a poem.

I giggled. I was near hysterics. I breathed in and out. Slowly.

I looked up to our window.

Father was silhouetted... a shadow watching.

Who else was watching??

Of course they would recognise me even with the silly mask... a curvy eighteen-year-old cutie... although otherwise quite naked.

Still... now I squatted--defiantly as if defiant, knees-open, 'see my cunny?' squatting was possible.

I stared up at him.

I would not close my eyes.

Then I just let it go.

And wouldn't you know it: that old devil Moon picked that very moment to do more than peek out.

It's beams struck me full force.

I looked down. My stream--that I knew to be pale yellow--was moon-white silver and sparkly.

I stopped.

I stood.

I ran like the Devil.

All the way up to my room.

Father shouted "Good girl!"

Fuck no!

I grabbed a used but dry towel from out my hamper. I shoved it under me. I diddled myself from my bulging light pink clittie down to mercilessly teasing my darker pink and poky virgin hole.

Then I tickled my rear-most hole with one finger!

Never came so hard.

I didn't really squirt but I near shot strings of white drool all over my thighs, the towel and the bedspread.

Then I realised that I still had the silly mask on.

I giggled hysterically. Again.

3) A Small Party: and who came?

I was so embarrassed at what my father purchased to put out for our mostly still unknown guests. It was a selection of frozen hor d'oeuvres that you microwave.

And the dessert was cheap store-bought sponge cake.

"At least, you whipped up your special cream," he shrugged as he shrugged into his black leather jacket--essential for venturing out into a Liverpudlian late September.

"You're leaving me??"

I was stunned.

I was naked!

He looked me over with a smile.

"Uncle Reg and his... associates are here for you. All of you."

He gestured at my body the way a game show model gestures at the merchandise the eager contestants might win.

"But... must I be naked for Uncle Reg?? He... he..."

I blushed deeply.

"He already loves you, and you love him. He will only love you more now."

I received a very quick peck on the cheek as he practically ran out the door.

And left me naked with less than ten minutes to my presumably dressed guests.

Naked and padding about on bare feet from cool hard kitchen tile to tread-worn living room rug. A nude and a nervous wreck!

The coffee table was already set. So incongruous to have out our fine china only to be festooned with microwaved mini hot dogs and American-style fried chicken bites atop.

I nearly cried.

Then the intercom ding-donged.

"It's Reg."

It took seconds to find my voice.

"Come on up!"

Was that cheery enough for a first-time hostess with the least-est in the way of clothing??

I waited at the door. For some reason, I stared down at my bare feet. Uncle Reg would call me "twinkle toes" and make me giggle as he threatened to tickle those toes when I ran around barefoot.

What would he tickle now?

Now that I was barefoot all over.

The harsh door buzzer.

I sucked in my tummy and held my breath. Perhaps with held breath, my breasts would not bounce as much.

I opened the door.

Two men and one woman.

Smiles and brief acknowledgements of my face... then what was to become a most familiar tripartite glance.

Tits. Cunny. Back to face.

Repeat.

I shall describe our cast of characters who cheerily entered to evaluate my naked beauty.

In the order of entry...

Firstly: the Professor. That was my first impression of him. Moppy hair and wire rim glasses and dressed as the 'absented-minded you-know-what.

(I much later went on the Internet. There was a character called 'The Professor' on a goofy old American show. Look it up: that's what Google AI is for!)

His greeting: "And this must be the amazing Grace!"

He looked me over with an obviously practiced eye. Well... both eyes.

"How sweet and round!"

And then he hugged me and kissed my cheek whilst his hands cupped and squeezed and then rudely separated my lower cheeks!

I thought: how else does one improperly greet a naked eighteen-year-old lady?

(I only realised later that he was making an 'Amazing Grace' joke. Or: trying to.)

Secondly: the Duchess. She looked like a duchess! She had blonde hair so silvery light that was piled into a bun on the back of her head... held up with a silver and diamond pin.

Her hair alternately glowed with silver or gold added strands.

"My dear, let me look at you!"

And she took my hand and had me twirl!

Her tight hug included a soft kiss.

It included her long fingernails teasing my arse-crack down to my rear hole.

It ended with a whisper: "You are indeed an angel. And we MUST get to know each other... biblically!"

She laughed to indicate that everything was all in fun.

"She is a delight! You are quite the lucky one, Reg."

Thirdly: the "Reg" who was, is or will be lucky I refer to as my Uncle Reg or merely "uncle."He is not really my uncle and all that will come out as it unfolds in my story.

The way he is looking at me...

I wonder if he ever had my mother strip likewise for him--as he assessed her suitability as a honey trap in some very dirty little spy games.

(Yes: they worked together and I do believe he was her Boss Man but enough exposition.)

Uncle held out his arms.

I collapsed into them.

"My sweet angel."

I loved when he called me that!

I looked up at him.

"Have you been longing to hold me naked like this for a while?" I whispered.

He only hesitated a micro second.

"Oh God yes!"

And then he firmly cupped each of my back-end cheeks in his strong hands.

And he nearly lifted me up!

I had to break away.

Now it took all of my naked courage.

I stood with my hands on my hips. With my legs about shoulder-width.

"Now. Is someone going to tell me what exactly is in store for me??"

This was not the best place. This dingy narrow hallway leading to the living room at one end; a half bath opposite the front door.

And one wall was adorned with Father's prized pictures;

Himself as "Frightful Fred" the wiry boxing champion.

He and Mother and he and me. He looks so cocky and muscular. Mother looks to be a cool brunette bundle of hot under it all packaged sex. I look to be "help me: these cannot be my parents!"

The Duchess spoke. I finally noticed her somehow form-fitting yet flowing white sheath knee-length dress. It too had silver and gold threads sewn in that caught the eyes even in this lightless place.

"My dear. Sweet girl! You are free to soundly kick our nicely-clothed arses out into the street! Then you can get dressed and tell your father where to stuff things.

We are your friends now. Whatever decision you make, from now on we will take care of you."

I pursed and bit my lips. That is what naked girls do in stories.

"Am I to be trained to be like Mother?"

Now I looked to Uncle.

Yet still the Duchess answered.

"I was part of your mother's training... twenty-three years ago. She started modeling very tastefully nude. Her absolute beauty caught the right persons' attentions."

Uncle cleared his throat in a very British manner.

"If you choose this life... you will be trained to be even more of what you are right now:

Charming.

Lovely.

Smart.

Sexy."

"Emphasis on sexy??" I cocked my head most coquettishly.

Uncle smiled--from ear to ear, as they say.

"Especially sexy! Everything that you are taught shall focus on the power of one, sweet, incredible girl to give sweet, incredible pleasure to us all."

I actually let out a deep breath.

"Amazing," the Professor spoke.

"We have just witnessed her body's naked acceptance!"

And then he pulled out a small spiral notebook--with tooth-chewed pencil attached by string--and began making notes.

I sighed. I gestured toward the end of the hallway.

They deferred to me. They wanted me to lead them the three and one half long meters.

They actually wanted to watch my naked bum wink and twitch and work its bare and bouncy magic.

Finally in the living room.

"Isn't much. The sofa will seat two."

Duchess and the Professor plopped down. Uncle made his way round to Father's recliner. Said recliner was now positioned so that Father could observe my naked progress in cooking his dinners.

"I am most remiss in my introductions!" Uncle gestured to the sofa.

"The gentleman scribbling in his notebook is only known as 'The Professor.' He owns and runs a sort of finishing school slash placement center for young ladies who have completed their standard sexual education.

The gracious lady is Miss Millicent. She was long a professor herself at a certain academy that we all hope that you will decide to attend."

I was standing there, naked. Their eyes were collectively and figuratively devouring all they could see of my collectively exposed figure.

"And... did my mother attend this academy? Was she recruited similarly?"

Now there was a collective intake of breath.

"Excellent!" Miss Millicent clasped her hands together. She stared into my eyes... commanding my attention.

"I was the one who evaluated her. I had her strip in my office and had her pose beyond anything she had ever dreamed of.

Then I made her the offer that we are now making you: a new life. Exciting and stimulating in ways beyond mere acts of sex and nonstop eroticism.

We create... we bring to life... a totally new breed of woman!"

To say that I was speechless would be... quite true!

I mumbled something about serving them. I put the silly items in the microwave. I blushed more at the whirring and the beeping than I had about presenting myself nude.

I stood as they ate. Uncle asked me if I had already eaten. I nodded numbly.

"Then humor us by wandering around the place. Pretend that you are straightening up; looking out the window; perhaps stretching a bit."

I complied. Strangely... I now felt in my element!

I could not help from grinning a silly grin as I deliberately bent over--then squatted--to adjust the books on our bottom bookshelf.

Was it true? Was I becoming that new breed of woman?? I was enjoying my deliberate exposure. I was enjoying knowing that every eye was on every newly-revealed part of me.

Finally I noticed that they were done. Now I very much deliberately bent in front of each guest--providing a view of dangling breasts and then a closeup curvy arse in their faces!

I got the three plates of sponge cake--topped with fresh strawberries and my own legendary whipped cream--and placed one in front of each guest.

"Delicious!"

"Nearly as creamy as our hostess"

I blushed. But I was loving it!

Uncle suddenly spoke. "I saved some cake and cream for you."

"But I already--"

"No. Come over here."

I stood: suddenly shy in front of him.

"Sit yourself down." He patted the edge of the coffee table.

I sat. My legs were somewhat primly together.

"That won't do."

I started. The Duchess--or Miss Millicent was suddenly standing to my left. The Professor then got up and took position to my right.

"Put those little feet up here--and lean back on your elbows."

Uncle ordered as he patted his lap.

As I was now in a very sexual, very naked daze, let me describe Uncle Reg.

He is the very model of the proper English gentleman. Grey cropped hair atop; grey mustache below.

He has a... presence. Always dresses in dark linen suits... yet one can imagine him in younger years as a rough and tumble rugby star.

He now took my little feet in his hands. He placed one on each knee. Then he spread his knees.

Spreading me.

I leaned back and looked back at my admirers. What were they seeing? In the standard American manner of measuring centerfolds, I was 35 1/2 C, 24 1/2, 35.

I have short black hair that curls so cutely under my ears.

And I was newly and totally shaved of similar hair down below.

"Is this a new look for you?" Uncle had a constant smile now. He was enjoying himself--and me.

"I did it for you--all of you! Scissors then Father's electric and then some awful smelly cream."

I made sure that I included each one in my sweeping gaze.

"I bared myself... all of me... for all of you."

There were audible sighs. Relaxations of breaths held.

"She's a natural."

"One of a kind."

"A wonder."

"A living doll."

I leaned back. I looked downstairs. I was spread pretty nicely.

Two strangers and a family friend who had watched me grow up were greedily drinking in the sight of my freshly shaved bright and pouty pink-lipped and open cunt.

"How are you doing, my sweet angel?"

I responded by cocking my head.

"These are just body parts. They are

awfully fun parts. But still..."

I smiled. "I'm..." I shook my head. "I'm glowing in your gazes. In your open-mouthed admiration of the places where I piss. And yes: where I do diddle myself!"

I blushed.

"At times!"

"What names do you have for your fun parts?"

The Professor had his pencil ready.

I pointed.

"Hoodie, clittie, pinkie lips, piss hole, poky hole."

I was blushing hot now. I could feel the fine sheen of sweat on my body cooling it. I suppressed a shiver.

I was putting on quite the bold act. But I did read somewhere that if you keep up the act: eventually it becomes natural.

I was thinking that maybe I was a natural. But a natural what? Naked little sexpot??

A shock to my brain: was I also describing my cucumber-cool mother??

"I love her," the Professor announced to the general populace.

Then he addressed me.

"I love you."

"Thank you sir."

"Enough preliminaries!" Miss Millicent took hold of her plate with still a bit of cake and a dollop of cream atop.

Professor did the same with his.

Then Uncle joined in. He placed the three dessert plates in a triangular shape between my spread thighs.

Very close to my poky hole. And in this position--also my rear-most hole.

I watched as the other two members of my nude admiration society leaned in. They each stuck a finger into the cream atop their own cakes. Then they applied said cream to each of my nipples.

Uncle leaned in. I smiled and actually relaxed as I could now see where this was going. Uncle applied his own finger's worth of cream in a line from my hoodie to my poky hole.

They all did the equivalent of leaning back to appreciate their artistic endeavours.

"That's only a start, my dear," Miss Millicent informed me. "You shall of course be providing your own cream as you... entertain yourself. And us."

I narrowed my eyes.

"I don't quite squirt." I squinted between my legs at the dessert set up.

"But I sort of pump out long drooly strings of goo. Perhaps some of it will adorn your cakes!"

"I must have you," said the Professor. "After your two years of training, you will be mine."

"And what shall I learn at your... finishing school?"

"How to fuck in such creative ways. Different positions, body parts, and locations every time! And you will be sent out on some very exciting and very naked adventures!"

I nodded.

I was ready.

I circled each cream-dipped nip with my index fingers.

I noisily sucked.

I moved both hands slowly downward.

I was not in a daze. I was in a sort of...

"Calm control," interjected Miss Millicent.

My eyes shot open.

"Oh I can't read minds!" She laughed. "But I have been there."

By the look that passed between us... I knew that we were part of an exclusive club. Girls who had been selected, tested and stripped to see if they had what it took to move nakedly onward.

I myself continued moving downward.

Momentarily nonplussed by the unfamiliar lack of hair to grab and pull... I circled my belly button until I giggled.

I thought my attendees were going to applaud!

I was finally down to my very open vulva. I used one hand to press inward and upward on the bottom of my hoodie. My somewhat shy clittie sort of oozed pinkish out.

Now the Professor did applaud.

"Gorgeous little lolly!" he gushed.

I circled that lolly with a thumb and two fingers. Then I squeezed and pinched it. Trying to get Miss Shy Button out in greeting.

I looked down.

Pretty good!

I really felt that my poky hole was already muchly open. Nevertheless: I used the second and fourth fingers of my left hand to tease it open more.

Then I rudely stuck my middle finger in.

Uncle leaned closer, intently.

"Does it hurt? How far can you go in?"

"I..." I really wasn't used to being questioned mid-masturbation!

"I only use one finger. Maybe just up to the first bend. It is awfully tight but it just feels... difficult to get in. I can't say it really hurts."

He sat back. "Good."

"Are you asking 'cause you're gonna fuck me?"

Might as well be bold when already finger-fucking yourself in front of the man!

"Yes. And yes! That's why I'm asking... and I do hope that it will be much more pleasant than a simple first fuck!"

I licked my lips as one finger stirred the near inside of my poky hole... the other stirred my clittie. Both parts of me were oozing.

"Want you inside me. Already love you Uncle! Watch me cum as I fuck myself for you!"

"Easy now... you little naked angel! Open it up for us. Let's see two fingers in. Let's see that glistening pink!"

This was my beloved "Uncle," breathlessly leaning forward so far I feared the heavy chair would topple.

I did as I was told. I pulled out and tugged my inner lips wide. I spread my legs wider with my little feet dangling in the air.

"A case of the finest wines says she squirts," offered the Professor.

"No bet," Miss Millicent shook her head. "She is more than ready."

She turned to Uncle.

"God's sake, Reg. Let this little one cum already!"

He leaned back. He took a long, slow sip of his white wine.

"Cum for me, my sweet and naked angel. Lift up that tight little arse and add your juices to our desserts."

I was... beyond aroused. I was... nothing but pure sex. My whole body was nothing but an extension of my wet pink pokey hole.

Then I did it. I teased my bummy-bum hole in front of them.

"Cumming... cumming... cumming. Cumming the fuck for you! FOR YOU!!"

I started banging my bum on the table. I was staring at nothing but the dull pale white mottled ceiling yet I was seeing stars.

Then I felt it. I opened my eyes wide and sought some control over my out of control body.

The strings of girlie-goo shot out in pulse after pulsating pussy pulse. I aimed them as best I could over all three desserts.

"I'm making a mess!" I think I was shouting. I know that I was laughing and crying too.

As I slowly came down from my ultra-orgasmic high, I gingerly eased myself back.

"I think I peed too!" I announced. I was openly crying.

"There there!" Miss Millicent took both of my hands in hers and kissed my cheek.

"Where are your lady wipes, sweet angel?"

"Ummm..." I wiped my eyes after freeing one hand. "There are some over the loo in the downstairs bath."

She exited in a flourish.

"Sorry I'm such a baby!"

Uncle opened his mouth.

The Professor spoke.

"Two years and I must have you. I don't care what the bids will be. I must have you!"

Uncle cleared his throat. "You are definitely no baby! You are very definitely the sweetest little lady that I have ever known."

And just when I was tearing up again... Misss Millicent made her grand re-entrance. Each of the gentlemen lifted up my upper thighs and my bum cheeks to aid in my clean up.

Then they took the cakes that I had 'anointed' back onto their laps.

"Excellent!" Uncle enthused.

"Yummy!" was the Professor's culinary review.

Miss Millicent ate as she stood.

"I can differentiate your taste: a light sweetness mixed with more than a tangy touch of warm sea salt."

She smiled. "And yes: it's yummy too!"

I laughed.

I had just masturbated to orgasm for two strangers and a family friend. I had openly squirted out my sticky fluids onto their sweet cakes. And...

I was still lying naked on a coffee table with my freshly-wiped and bright pink cunny-cunt-pussy on full display.

And... I was loving it!

Next chapter:

Father's Bed: and who came in there?!!