The sensation of the base of the dildo grinding into my clit fired off my orgasm. My legs went around Bambi's butt and locked. I pulled her into me and held on as tightly as I could while I came all over the dildo inside my pussy. She lay down on top of me and put her arms around my arched back, riding me as I bucked like a wild horse on the bed. I was so keyed-up and my orgasm came so quick after she pounded the dildo into me that I didn't feel any pain at all. It wasn't until several minutes later when my orgasm had faded, that I felt anything other than pure pleasure.
Bambi pushed herself up off me and slowly pulled the dildo out. I felt a slight sting, but nothing like the pain I had been expecting. When it was out, I could see a couple of smears of my blood against the plastic before she wiped it off on the towel. She unstrapped the dildo and stepped out of it. Then she pulled the towel up between my legs like a diaper and closed my legs over it.
"You just relax," she said as she pulled a blanket over me. "I'll check in a minute to make sure the bleeding has stopped, then we'll give you a douche to clean you up. Now, I'm going to go make us reservations at the Four Oaks for dinner."
I opened the blanket and reached out to her, dragging her up onto the bed with me. I pulled the blanket over both of us and we snuggled together while we waited for the bleeding to stop. That was one of the most tender moments I had ever felt, laying there cuddling and kissing with the woman who had just taken my virginity.
Later, after I had washed thoroughly, inside and out, I put on one of my nice outfits. It had a nearly sheer white jacket with a lace pattern that fastened at one point below my breasts and left my cleavage and my stomach bare. The pants were flared low-riders in red lycra that looked like a second skin. I could have worn a thong under the pants, but there was no way it wouldn't show and I think having your underwear hanging out looks tacky. When I had to pull the pants up into my crack to get them high enough to cover my pubic hair, I decided I really had to start shaving down there so I would not have to worry about that problem any more.
We didn't get me any shoes when we went shopping, so I had to wear my walking shoes. They were white, so they matched, but I thought some strappy heels would have looked better.
After I finished dressing to go out, I went downstairs to the family room. Mrs. Reynolds was still getting ready, but Bud and Jim had already changed and were on the sofa watching TV. The last time they had seen me, my breasts were flat, stretched-out bags. I knew they would be surprised to see me now. As I walked quietly up behind them, I thought about how I felt about them. To put it mildly, I had not been impressed by their behavior either before or during my 'torture' sessions. I particularly remembered the "EWWWW!" comment that Bud made about my breasts and especially the looks on both their faces when I did my cheerleader routine for them. I had to remind myself that that had been barely 24 hours ago. My body and my life had completely changed in that time, but I knew that they had not changed. They were both a couple of spoiled brats who badly needed to be taught to be considerate of others. Their mother loved them too much to do it. I guessed that made it my job to train them. I smiled to myself as the thought of training the boys came to me. Mrs. Reynolds wasn't the Mistress of Pain — I was. I had taken it and I was now qualified to dish it out.
I put my shoulders back and held my head high as I stepped around the couch and walked over to the TV. I punched the power button to shut it off and I turned to face Bud and Jim with my hands on my hips.
"Hello, boys," I said. Their reaction was everything I hoped it would be. Their eyes locked onto my chest and their mouths fell open. Their little brains were as transparent as glass. I expected them to start drooling any second. I let them have a good, long look at me. I turned and posed some, trying not to be too obvious about it. Although I don't think it mattered a bit to them how obvious I was being. Their mother was right about one thing — my 48-18-28 measurements could reduce boys to quivering jelly.
I started to play with the one button below my breasts that held my top closed. I plucked at it and ran my fingers around it as though I couldn't figure out how to operate it. I mimed tugging and pulling at my jacket as though it was suffocating me and I was trying to get it off. I stroked my stomach and my hips and let my fingers flutter over my pussy as if I were about to start fingering myself. When I thought they had been teased enough, I put my fists back on my hips and stamped my foot to get their attention.
"Where are your manners, guys? Don't you stand up when a woman walks into the room?"
It was as though they had been reeled up on a line. Both of them rose to their feet. I could see their hard cocks tenting their dress slacks. I smiled sweetly at them and looked pointedly down at the bulges in their pants.
"Oooo. I see you like me. It looks like you like me a lot. That's nice. Would you like to show me how much you like me? Why don't you take those hard cocks out and let me see how much you like me?"
Both flinched a hand toward their zippers, but they both stopped short of pulling their dicks out. They needed some more encouragement.