Lo, A Matron Blooming

Sweetheart of Summa Chi-6

At Sarah’s whispered order, the boys began to run their hands over Nyah, fondling her s*x, the expanse of her breasts, her n*****s, her thighs, and her welted backside. Sam gently spread her thighs and put his arms around her hips. He glanced at Sarah for her okay, and then began to feast on her s*x while the dark-skinned boy slipped his fingers into Nyah’s backside.

The boys’ tentativeness, their gentleness, and respect for Nyah deeply moved Clara. At the same time, she could sense their fear of Sarah. She left no question about who was in charge. Clara wished she were up on that stage with that whip in her hand. She would show those boys a thing or two about how to respect females. However, that could wait. She would have Sam under her roof in a few weeks. She would see to him then, bend him to her will. From the audience pent-up urges broke through the music. Sighs segued into full-throated cries and shrieks that merged into a single streaming chant.

“Whip… Whip... Whip those boys!”

Sarah heard them and she complied. The boys danced to her lash while they continued to fondle and pet Nyah. Sarah encouraged the boys, told them to take Nyah’s pendulous breasts into their hands and do as they were trained. “Tease her n*****s,” she ordered. The erotic tableau settled the audience back into silence while the whipped boys reduced Nyah to incoherent moans and pleas.

When Sarah finally ceased whipping the boys, she moved out of the spotlight into the shadows. Nyah’s muted sighs floated out to the audience. Women were now unabashedly playing with themselves. Others opened their bodices or hugged and kissed. Mary’s free hand, the one not buried in Clara’s bosom, was between her thighs. Behind her, Clara heard the muted unmistakable whine of a vibrator. She wished she had brought hers.

Nyah looked down at Sarah with a pleading expression, “Sarah, please turn the boys loose… let them f**k me!” she sighed. Sarah smiled at her. She gestured upward with her whip. Nyah rose from the tabletop to hang by her arms, swaying gently, while Sam moved the table out from beneath her.

Clara watched fascinated as the boys’ c***s grew hard and erect again. They were anticipating the climactic phase of Nyah’s Rite. The dark-skinned boy’s c**k was huge. She imagined him beneath her while she guided him into her. Could she possibly take it all?

Sarah arranged the boys so they were facing each other a couple of feet apart. Sarah pushed their hips forward, thrusting out their c***s. At Sarah’s cue, Nyah slowly descended between the boys. Sarah rotated her so that she faced the dark-skinned boy. Sam stood behind her. Before her feet hit the floor, Nyah made first contact with the dark-skinned boy’s upright c**k. At Sarah’s bidding, he guided his c**k between Nyah’s thighs and began to push. As wet as she was, he easily entered her. She grimaced in a mixture of shock and joy as he went in. At the same time, Sarah guided Sam’s meaty little c**k between Nyah’s bottom cheeks. Nyah let out a shriek as he penetrated her backside. Sarah quietly reminded the boys they must be utterly still.

In a motion they had practiced for days, the boys came together merging and sandwiching Nyah between them. She came to rest on the boys’ c***s; her body pinned and suspended several inches off the floor. Her great breasts compressed and expanded with the boys’ breathing. Like a tri-colored sandwich, Nyah’s coffee-colored skin contrasted with Sam’s paleness and enhanced the darker skin of the other boy. Impaled on the c***s, unable to move, Nyah was helpless. The audience understood and they loved it. As if on cue, they came to their feet. Sarah turned to the thunderous applause and lifted her hands. It was as if she threw a switch. The audience fell quiet.

There wasn’t a sound as Sarah lifted her whip and whispered, “Forget about yourselves. It’s time for you to f**k your mistress. You will satisfy her completely or you will pay dearly.”

The music rose in a shattering roar. Under the sting of Sarah’s whip, the boys worked in synchrony, in and out they went, burying their c***s in time with the music.

Nyah was transfixed. Her world had shrunk to a single moment, the throb of the music, the c***s that bore her up, and the brute heat and sweat emanating from the boys who held her tightly between them. Awash in rapture, she was barely aware Sarah was savagely whipping the boys’ buttocks and thighs now, letting her whip cut deep into their hides. As she approached ecstasy, she kissed the young dark-skinned boy full on his startled lips. A primal scream escaped from her open mouth as the boys doggedly sought to follow their mistress’ order.

From where she sat, Clara could make out Sam’s expression. She’d never seen a boy smile quite like that. Sarah had forbidden him to speak, but his expression spoke volumes. He was scared stiff, ecstatic at f*****g Nyah, and nervous as hell. She watched Nyah shudder and come and come again. The boys were frantic now, greedily banging her, wanting more of Nyah and the cutting whip strokes. Finally, Nyah had nothing left to give to the audience. She sagged helplessly between the boys.

Clara didn’t even realize she had unbuttoned the front of her dress and let her heavy bosom fall into her lap. That action caused poor Mary to wet her pants. Clara took her into her arms and buried the young mother’s face in her expansive bosom. Mary did the trick for her. She finally had a public climax of her own so powerful she was not even aware of the unabated stream of orgasms rocking poor Mary’s soul.

Nyah’s mother and sister, Eliah, were in the back row holding hands, watching and weeping in ecstasy. Nyah’s mother had never been prouder of her daughter than she was right then.

The next day at the Summa Chi sorority house, Sam and the dark-skinned boy served heavily laden drinks and canapés at the Sweetheart Rite afterglow. Sarah had bound the boys’ arms behind them and ball-gagged them so there would be no inane chatter while they circulated among the women. They were identically dressed in dark-seamed nylons, panties, tall heels, mini-skirts, and sheer organdy aprons. They wore polished wood serving trays strapped to their waists and suspended by a second strap around their necks. Both Ms. Hallstrom and Sarah had talked to the boys before the party, reminding them there would be no monkey business.

As the boys threaded their way through the crowded room, their c***s were plainly visible beneath the hems of their skirts. The women fondled the boys, teasing them, keeping them hard and erect until they nearly came.

When Nyah’s mother and her sister, Eliah, arrived, they immediately spotted Nyah. She was standing on a pedestal in the center of the room that placed her head and shoulders above the women. Stark still, unmoving, she reminded her mother of an Egyptian queen. Ms. Hallstrom had covered her head in a folded gold cloth headdress. Her mahogany hued eyes were deeply shadowed and heavily lined. She stared unblinking across the room. She wore an elegantly simple cream and blue silk gown that fell straight to the floor from the tipped arcs of her breasts. Her profile was classic Summa Chi; a descending bust line that grew more deep and full as it descended through a perfect arc. Her n*****s had risen to the occasion, were boldly visible through the diaphanous silk.

Though she didn’t show it, she was still reeling from yesterday’s Rite. Her n*****s were as hard and full of fire now as they were during her time on the stage. She’d never been butt-f****d before. She would never forget Sam’s hardened little c**k deep inside her. She hoped he would do it again, but that decision would rest with Ms. Hallstrom. She owned Sam, controlled every aspect of his life. Her breasts felt different today; they seemed larger, more taut, and heavy than she remembered. She wanted desperately to close her eyes, curl up, and play with herself, but this day was not hers. Today, she belonged to the Summa Chi alumnae who’d come to see and pet their new Sweetheart up close and personal.

Nyah’s mother stood proudly before her daughter. She wanted everyone in the room to know this gorgeous young woman was her daughter. She made sure her younger daughter Eliah was beside her. Though she would not have admitted it, she was already campaigning Eliah for next year’s nomination.

Eliah interrupted her mother’s musings. “Mother, isn’t she beautiful? I’ll bet you looked just as good when you were Sweetheart. She is simply scrumptious.” She ran a delicate fingertip over Nyah’s breasts and n*****s; felt her sister’s shudder.

“Eliah,” her mother said, slapping away her hand, “stop teasing your sister. She is not a plaything.”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m just so proud and envious of her. I mean look at her boobs. She makes me look like stick girl. I hope I’m as big as her when I become eligible next year.”

Nyah’s mother glanced at her daughter and then lowered her gaze to the expanse of her own ample breasts, jiggling gently beneath the diaphanous fabric of her blouse. “Eliah, how many times must I tell you? You have my genes and your grandmother’s genes. By the time Ms. Hallstrom summons you, I guarantee you will be as big perhaps even bigger in the bust than Nyah.”

“I can only hope and pray,” Eliah murmured as she squeezed her sister’s hand. “I love you, Nyah.”

Eliah’s mother blew Nyah an affectionate kiss and whispered, “I must go. I promised your father a good strapping when I get home and you know I won’t renege on that promise. That boy needs all my attention.”

Nyah watched with misty eyes as her mother took Eliah’s arm and led her out of the sorority house. For a fleeting second she wished she could step down from her pedestal and let her mother take her home, too. Father was going to get a dose of Mother’s strap and she loved to be there when Mother took him upstairs. When she’d lived at home, there had been plenty of strappings and they’d never failed to arouse her. Just then, Sarah swept into the room like a dazzling ray of sunshine, smiling at the crowd, accepting their compliments, while glancing at Nyah.

It took Nyah a second to realize Sarah was looking for Sam. She knew the boy was still preoccupied with Rite. Tonight, Ms. Hallstrom and Sarah would see to it that Sam paid for his moment in the sun. Yes; he would pay very dearly for that one-time privilege.

The beveled glass bow window in Clara Wilson’s Victorian parlor refracted the dappled afternoon sunlight, sending shimmering rainbows of color and shadow dancing over the faded Persian carpet.

Clara had invited Nyah, Ms. Hallstrom, Sarah, the young mother, Mary, and other alumnae to an afternoon of tea and entertainment. Nyah, the guest of honor, was wearing the Summa Chi Sweetheart tiara and an indigo denim sleeveless dress Sarah had picked out for this party. The dress featured a tightly fitted crossover bodice cut low to expose a generous amount of Nyah’s incredible cleavage. Her beauty alone was more than enough to capture every woman’s eye. Her trembling low-slung bosom was simply icing on the cake.

As she had promised to Clara, Ms. Hallstrom arrived early with young Sam in tow. Before the other guests arrived, Clara and Ms. Hallstrom had stripped Sam naked and bound his arms behind him. He stood in the center of the parlor in a bright pool of sunlight surrounded by seated women. He’d recently celebrated his nineteenth birthday, but at this moment, pinned and wriggling under the women’s eyes, he looked and felt like nothing so much as a hapless little boy.

Everything about these women, their inscrutable expressions, their eyes, overly full bust lines, seamed nyloned legs, and tall heels excited and terrified him. They sat as straight and silent as jurors. He could feel them relishing his trembling, triangulating him in their sights. Their grand bosoms and collective show of cleavage enticed him, made him stiff as a board, but did nothing to allay his fear. He knew something bad was going to happen to him. Just the thought of spending several weeks alone with Mrs. Wilson frightened the crap out of him. He wished he were back at the sorority house safely under Ms. Hallstrom’s lock and key. Even his beloved Nyah was looking more maternal now. He struggled to maintain an ebullient air. Ms. Hallstrom expected nothing less.