To an evening seminar

Following Sarah I clip-clop my way across the asphalt of the parking area. Each step reminds me of the large intruder in my pussy and I'm sure a trail of pussy juice is trickling down my thighs. I shudder at the thought of meeting other people in this insane state of arousal. Unfortunately that very thought adds to my excitement and for a second I almost fall from a sudden weakness in my legs. Sarah notices my stagger and gives me a stern look. Quickly I steady my walk and follow suit.

The brief interval of relative peace gives me an opportunity to study Sarah's attire for the night. In contrast to me, she has picked quite a conservative outfit. A sandy blouse the color of her blonde hair with an elegant brown jacket and matching skirt. Her feet are embedded in sandy pumps, with heels high enough to accentuate her shapely legs yet not too high to be uncomfortable. Even though Sarah is small compared to me, her proportions are anything but close to perfection, with feminine curves at all the right places, a tiny waist and slender legs. With her current outfit she looks all the way the successful career woman - or rather the clever student, well aware of the chances life presents for one as ambitious as her. With me in my slutty schoolgirl outfit at her side, it's pretty obvious who is the superior. Here is the educated, well-behaving student, there's the horny bitch, willing to spread her legs for everybody making advances at her. I cringe at the thought that I'm the bitch, but at the same time I feel more alive than ever.

As Sarah picks a route towards the building housing the faculty for jounalism, I slowly understand where we headed for. This evening, Samantha Billinger, a very popular TV presenter with her own TV show for CBS, is schedulded to hold a seminar on 'The TV business - dynamics, opportunities and pitfalls'. A shudder runs through my spine, as I realize that a good deal of fellow students from my classes and also my sorority will be present at that seminar. 'Eh, look at that slut Amanda - how she is dressed again tonight'... I already can imagine the hushed whispers accompanying our appearance.

"Hurry up, bitch" Sarah states as she speeds up her pace. "We'll be late."

I sigh and try to keep pace with her. With my slutty 5 inch heels it's everything else but fun, walking at high speed without looking too silly. I'm aware that whoever has a look on us will see my wiggling ass and my swaying tits. The dildo rubs and rubs against my pussy, and my nipples are hard and fat. Quickly I'm sweating, both from precipitation and dreadful anticipation, coating my skin in a glistening layer of faint moistness. When we finally reach the entrance door to the faculty, I sigh with relief.

We enter the foyer and immediately I cringe from the prospect what this night might hold in store for me. The foyer is set for a reception buffet, with student helpers clad in suits or elegant costumes. Long tables with white sheets are filled with champagne glasses and snacks, not just some potato chips or pretzel sticks, but appetizers with salmon, roast beef and other assorted food. All of sudden I feel like a street whore called to the Mariott Plaza, and I cast my eyes down to avoid the glances of the students standing behind the tables. I especially try to avoid the looks of Cindy Barnes and Gregory Miller, both fellow students from my advanced english classes, not wanting to see their disapproving stares. Instinctively I pick the shortest path to the seminar hall, and almost bump into Sarah who has suddenly stopped without apparent reason. With a fake smile of pleased surprise she points to a table on which small bowls with eggs and caviar have been placed.

"Oh, Amanda, they really have spared no efforts to make it a nice evening, don't you think, darling?"

My cheeks burn with embarassement. I lift my head and look dutifully at the direction she is pointing to. "Yes, it really looks nice." I manage to reply and wish myself invisible.

"Ah, I'm looking forward to meet all those important people" Sarah chirps and casts my a vicious smile. I cringe, and I impatiently tread on the spot I'm standing. "Ah, let's go. We'll be late."

I cast a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord and follow Sarah upstairs to the large seminar room. As I climb the stairs, I suddenly realize that my short skirt will give open looks to everybody following behind. Another hot and cold chill attacks my overloaded senses. I turn my head and luckily I see nobody else following - we really must be late by now.

When we reach the seminar hall, the doors are already closed. I brace myself for the commotion that's always started when latecomers arrive at a seminar and search for vacant seats. Inwardly I curse Sarah for the upcoming discomfort, but then again my burning pussy sings a different tune. My whole body is tingling with anticipation, and the dose of adrenaline suddenly rushing through my brain kisses me with a hot, impatiant intensity that makes me as high as a **** junkie. A hand on the door knob, Sarah turns around and whisper only four words that almost shatter my fragile countenance: "Mind your duties, bitch!"

I nod. Sarah pushes the handle down and opens the door.

The moment we enter I think I'll faint. The seminar has already started and the hall is crowded to the last place. The hall is shaped like a fan, with the tiers for the audience climbing up like terraces. In the lower centre is a small gallery with a lectern and a table with a notebook on it. Behind the lectern stands Samantha Billinger, clad in a very elegant costume, adressing the audience with purposeful confidence. I detect a few vacant seats to my left, and it takes me a second to realize that Sarah has chosen to descend the middle stairs - right through the assembled audience to either side.

For an instant I'm close to turning around and running away. Panic threatens and I'm torn between protecting my modesty and my obligation to my mistress to do what I'm told. I flinch, well aware of more heads turning towards me as I linger undecidedly in the upper part of the middle stairs. Finally I manage to gather all my courage and follow Sarah.

My cheeks burn from embarassement, and my barely covered tits are heavy as they sway with each downstep motion. I see many people clad in jackets, suits and other kinds of combinations. Others, mostly students, are clad in more ordinary clothes, but none is dressed up like a dog's dinner but me. Here and there I see familiar faces, some of them fellow students, others professors or tutors I have dealings with due to my studies. I see frowns of disapproval and heads turn to each other to whisper hushed comments about my brazen attire. The heat in my face becomes maddening, and the clip-clop of my heels thunders in my ears like an orchestra of hell's trombones. My sight is blurred and my head swims as I reach the lonely seat Sarah has left free for me - right in the first row, just a few feet away from the gallery. As I sit down, I keep my thighs tightly pressed together. My meek attempt to adjust my skirt is met with a menacing look from my mistress. Leaving it as it is, I sit down, well aware how my skirt slides up as my round ass rests on the seat. Bracing myself as good as I can, I look around to watch the reactions of the people closest to me. Luckily their attention appears to be directed to the presenter on the gallery and I thank the Lord for Samantha Billinger's charisma.

That's when I finally take a closer look at her. The very first thing that I see is a pair of hazel eyes staring at me from the gallery with a mixture of mild annoyance and - am I really surprised? - genuine interest.