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Erwer, Nenim 5, 0534

I heard footsteps behind me, and from the cadence of his steps I could tell it was Aaden. I was far too wrapped up in the work on my terminal to turn around, casually dismissing his presence as friendly and familiar. That is, until he came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulder, gently rubbing away the entire day's frustrations. "Oh, that feels so good, Aaden, but you're distracting me. I'll give you just half an hour to cut that out." He chuckled gently and leaned over, kissing me on the back of the neck. "Love you," he said gently. "How've the kids been?" I reached up over my head and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Oh they're fine. Ember's got them outside right now. Love you too," I said gently, kissing the furry underside of his muzzle. My hand trailed down along his body to his legs, not really seeking his crotch, just taking full measure of his wonderfully hard body. "You're all hot." "Been working out." I looked up at the clock and said, "Ohmifa, is it really fourteen already?" "Mm-hmm," he said. "Damn," I cursed. "I've been working for nine hours already and I feel like I've gotten nothing done." "What are you working on, anyway? I've never seen you get so intense." "You haven't lived with me long enough. I've been doing some genecoding work, thinking about a few things." "Such as?" he said with a little sing-song. "Oh, this'n'that. Structural variations for Centaurs. Skin tone controls for Humans, Centaurs." "A new species?" he asked. I smiled. "Yeah, that too. Been thinking about it. Now that the Pendorian races are as established as they are, I wonder if going with more 'classical' anthropomorphs wouldn't be inappropriate." "So what kind are you working on?" "Mustelids." "Very interesting. I still say you're working too hard. Getting intense is one thing, but I think you're overdoing it." He smiled. "Besides, I need a little help." "With what?" I asked. "I want you to spot me." "I thought that's what AI's were for." He shrugged. "I'd rather have you do it." I laughed. "Besides, it gives me a chance to see you. Haven't been doing much of that, recently, between your project and the kids." I nodded. "Okay, it's a deal." As if he really needed someone to spot for him. Still, safety first. We wandered out of the office and back towards the residencies, where Aaden had set up a separate bedroom. P'nyssa and he and I now had three whole residences to ourselves, with most of the walls knocked out again. The center room was still the nursery and playroom, with the farthest room being the "spare" bedroom. We had decided not to call it "Aaden's room" because I don't ever want to imply that Aaden is separate from P'nyssa and I. In fact, P'nyssa spent as much time there as Aaden. The funny times were when two of us spent the night in the spare room. But we had converted living room of the third residence for a variety of purposes. My old drafting table and workbench occupied one corner, the other kept Aaden's weights. There was also a low table covered with a green cloth. Under the cloth Aaden kept his seedling and sprouting jars-- the cloth was both to keep in the humidity and to shield outside eyes from the UV lights. Aaden threw a hundred fifty kilos or so of weight onto the lower bar, I didn't bother to really look at how much. I had long ago ceased to be impressed or confused by how much or how little he used in his sessions. All I know is that he keeps his body in magnificent shape, and although it wouldn't really make much of a difference to me either way, I do love the way he looks. He lay down and said "Ready?" "How warmed up are you?" I asked. "I've been warming up for about twenty minutes, Ken. I just needed you for this part." "Oh, okay. I'm ready then." I planted my feet and waited, handing him the bar slowly. He pressed it to his chest then extended vertically, breathing hard with every stroke. He began to do repetitions, lots of them. I watched as he exercised, enjoying the sight of his muscles expanding and contracting, his chest rising and falling in pattern with the repetitions. I started to notice that he was pushing himself hard, because sweat had broken out on his muzzle and his fur was matting down. Then I noticed something else-- With every exhalation I felt his breath blowing up my shorts and over my balls. It tickled. I leaned up against the higher bar-rest, the one intended for Uncia and Tindals (who have longer arms or tentacles, respectively), and said "Are you teasing me?" "What do you mean?" he grunted on a downward stroke. "You're breathing up my leg," I said, smiling. He glanced up, taking a good look into my shorts and said "You seem to be enjoying it." He landed the bar onto the lower rest and lunged for my shorts, his muzzle licking against the head of my cock briefly. "Ack!" I yipped, stepping back. "Rabid Mephit!" "Hey! Bring that back here," he said with mock-indignity. I stepped back into range. "Lower," he said. "Would it help if I took my shorts off?" "It would," he said, smiling. He has a handsome smile. I complied, taking off my shorts and stepping out of them. Now the only thing I wore was my T-shirt, a silly shirt I acquired during a brief stint teaching physics at Rocchodain University. It was a beautiful airbrush of the Ring, over which were the words "Pendorians don't understand the gravity of the situation," and the equation for tension in a string caused by centripetal acceleration. I bent my knees slowly, lowering my not-quite-erect penis to his muzzle. He lunged again, and I withdrew. "Uh-uh," I teased. "Give," he said. "Please?" I smiled and bent my knees again, feeding him the length of my cock. He closed his muzzle around it, forming his thin lips into a seal around it, his tongue pressing against the top of my cock. I held onto the weight bar, giving me balance. He stroked my cock easily, sending wonderful shocks up into my brain. I closed my eyes and sighed. "Gods, Aaden," I whispered, "I love you." I think he said "I love you too," but it wasn't clear as he said it around my cock. I also needed to lean over because my erection at full length doesn't like to bend downward. I wanted to lean over farther, to get at his cock as well, but I didn't have the reach to undo the string holding his gi bottoms, and even if I were to reach it I wouldn't have anyplace to put my hands to hold myself up. So I was stuck, bent over and barely balanced, able to do nothing but close my eyes and enjoy the soft friction of his mouth. He laid his head back against the bench, letting go of my cock. It whipped up and slapped against my belly. "I'm not that strong," he said, panting. "I can't hold my head up like that forever." I laughed and said "So?" "So why don't you mount me instead?" I laughed, walking around to the other side of the weights bench, sitting down between his legs. I undid the string and pulled at his pants from the knees as he raised his hips to help. I threw them aside, grabbed his legs at the knees and pushed them up. He took over, planting them firmly against the weight bar, exposing his asshole. I smiled and bent over, licking his balls softly, trailing my way down to his hole, getting him slick and ready for me. I leaned forward and aimed my cock, pushing against him gently, sliding into him. His asshole closed around my cock, pulling me in. I leaned over further, pressing my chest against the backs of his legs, feeling the fur on them against me. He reached up and put his hands on my cheeks, staring at me. His eyes were wide and he was panting hard. "I love you," he said in a loud whisper. "I love you too," I said, bucking against him, sliding into him. We'd made love hundreds, maybe thousands of times, and it was always just as special. Feeling his hard buttocks striking against my hips with every stroke, his body jerk with every thrust. He let go of me and held onto the bars, keeping himself in place as I approached climax, wanting to get ever deeper into him. He was staring at me, entranced, and I returned the stare, looking into his eyes. I wasn't sitting on the bench anymore; I had raised myself off and was driving myself into him, using my legs to go ever deeper. My orgasm was inevitable, and I knew it, so I suddenly stopped moving. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Nothing," I gasped. "I'm..." Slowly I stroked into him. "Right..." Slower, pulling out. "There... YEAH!" I screamed as I slammed into him one more time, coming, shooting into him. I bucked against him hard, once, twice, a third time, draining myself of strength. I collapsed against him, lying across his broad chest. A paw, unsteady and unsure, fell across my back. "You're not tired, are you?" I asked. "Well, getting ravished is certainly a good way to end a couple of dozen reps." "Oh." I'd almost forgotten that he'd been exercising even before this. I think orgasms give me amnesia. "You are okay?" I said. "Fine," he said. We had lain there for a few minutes, me on top of him, when a voice interrupted our cuddling. "Daddy, here you are." I raised my head unsteadily and looked over at the door. "Hiya, kiddo," I said, crooking a finger in her general direction. She came running over with all the typically overabundant energy of a five-year-old. "How's my little 'Lizbeth?" I said, leaning over to kiss Aaden's daughter gently on the forehead. "Aaden's daughter" biologically; she was growing up in my household, and she was my daughter as well. "Fine. Daddy Aaden, you promised to help me with my drawing." Aaden picked his head up, looked down out our precocious little child and said "In a second, sweetheart. Daddy still has to clean up from exercise." "'Kay," she said. As she skipped out I heard Alexi's voice from the other room say "Grownups. Always hugging." I looked down at Aaden and smiled. He laughed. "Come on," he said. "Let's get cleaned up. Besides, aren't you supposed to cook tonight?" "Is it my turn?" I asked with a smile. He nodded as I slid off of him and stood up woozily. "Oh, hell," I said. "What should I cook? What are you in the mood for?" "Lasagna." "Lasagna?" I asked. "Okay, lasagna it is. I thought you were on a diet." "Who says?" he said. I laughed. I bent over to grab my shorts and he shot out a hand to stroke along the cleft of my butt. I sighed. "You're looking for trouble. Come on, let's go and clean up." He laughed and said "Yeah." I stood back up straight and helped him to his feet, hugging him close. "I love you." We headed down for the bath. "Love you too."

Collections/libertine/Collected/Erwer_Nenim_5.txt

Stephanie Kay Buffman

Modern Day Echo

Five-fifteen. Still time to make the bus if she hurried. Laura quickened her pace as she made her way through the park towards the Cayman Street bus stop. She really wished she wasn't in such a rush, but alas, such is life. She sighed as she adjusted her packages in her arms. The sun shone brilliantly overhead. The pigeons had all gathered about the statue of Narcissus staring into the fountain that decorated the city park. Laura stopped and stared. She had never really taken time out of her day to look at the statue. In spite of its weathered outer texture, he was truly beautiful. She set her bags down on the steps of the fountain and climbed up two more for a closer look. The pigeons scattered as she crossed into their territory. He was indeed spectacular, this Narcissus. No wonder he fell in love with himself. The grayish green marble was fading, but you could imagine that it once gave the illusion of alabaster skin. His eyes were deep-set, and Laura imagined them to be dark green, perhaps with flecks of gold. His lips were rosebuds, and his hair, a thatch of golden curls. Laura was baffled that she had never noticed it before. His face bore a boyish smirk as he gazed into the water to feast upon himself. She felt the need to touch it. She reached her hand out, stretching her fingers tentatively toward the statue. Her fingers grazed his cheek and a hand clamped over hers. She looked up, expecting to see a policeman hovering over her, but there was no one there. She looked to her own hand and realized it was covered by a young man's. He was about 19, and bore an uncanny resemblance to the statue. "hey!" she said. "What's the problem?" "Nothing," he answered, face down. "I just saw you looking at ...looking that way." He looked into her eyes and she gasped. "You...you...uhh...." she stammered. "DId..uhh...you pose for that?" She gestured toward the statue, and as she set her gaze upon it, she realized there was nothing there. "I guess you could say so..." he smirked. "You mean...you..." He nodded. "But...but...can't anyone see you, like I am seeing you now, I mean? Aren't the scientists and tv crews going to bombard us at any moment?" "No," he answered. "You are the only one who can see me." "Wow. How did this happen?" "Well, I have loved myself for so long, and only myself, and yet, when someone worships me as I worship myself, I am allowed a bitter taste of true mutual love." "But..." "Please..." he said. "Let's not talk anymore." He kissed Laura's hand and moved to be next to her. He slowly lifted her arm. He frowned as he examined the clothing she wore. He was clad only in something that could only be described as a mixture of a toga and loincloth, cinched at the waist with gold braid. He examined the clothing for a moment, then began tugging at it. Laura made no move to stop him. She didn't know exactly how to react, so she just let him. He finally tugged so hard that the flimsy cotton blouse tore. A tear formed at the corner of his right eye. "Laura," he said sorrowfully. "I broke it!" "No, no, honey...you just ripped it. Look..." She showed him how the buttons fastened and unfastened. He was intrigued. He unfastened them all and removed her shirt. She was not wearing a bra, and her hard nipples stuck out from her small, firm breasts. She felt the slight chill of the April breeze and brought her arms up to shield her breasts. Narcissus moved to her skirt next. Finding no buttons, he tugged at it, and found it yielded willingly. Laura was scantily dressed in only her small cotton panties. But not for long, he removed those too. He then walked around to face her, standing her up. He walked around her entire form, stopping to kiss the sensitive areas on the back of her neck. Shivers ran up and down her spine. With his hands, he began exploring her body. He let his palms caress her swollen nipples as she moaned with delight. She turned herself so she was facing him. She wanted him to be as naked as she was. She felt so free. She remembered where she was for a moment and looked around. Mothers strolled by with carriages, men walked dogs, children played, but no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. She put them out of her mind and focused back on her Narcissus. He looked deep into her eyes as he lifted her arm once again. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, then moved on to kiss the entire length of her arm... She let her head roll back and her eyes close. There was something so passionate, and yet so innocent about this man. Narcissus took her hand and led her to the fountain. He stepped in. She wondered for a moment if she could get in trouble for that, but only for a moment did she wonder before following him. The water was warm in comparison to the wind. She trailed her fingers in it as the walked to the rocks that adorned the center. He sat Laura down and stroked her hair. He was still wearing his makeshift robe. Sensing her arousal, he removed it, and for the first time she gazed upon his erect penis. It was beautiful, quite perfect in her eyes...

Collections/libertine/Collected/Stephanie_Kay_Buffman_Modern_Day_Echo.txt

Patrick G. Conway

Lori's Letter -- A brother/sister letter

I had been having fantasies about my brother Mike for months before I did anything about it. I hadn't any real experience with sex before and was really curious about it. I guess you could say I was horny, but I wasn't even sure what that meant, to be honest. The few guys I was dating I didn't trust enough to feel comfortable with, so we never got past a little petting. The urge to go further was there, certainly, but not the faith. So I'd come home from my dates and go to bed. Mike's bedroom was next to mine. In fact, our beds were on opposite sides of the same wall. Sometimes I could hear him masturbating. When he really got going, his bed would squeak and bump my wall. Boy was it frustrating coming home from a date and then listening to Mike having fun. I think that's when I started thinking about going to his room and `helping' him. It took a few months before I got up the nerve - and had the opportunity - to try anything. Our parents had gone away for the weekend. Late Friday night, Mike said goodnight and headed up to bed. I stayed downstairs, all nervous and scared. A few minutes later, I snuck quietly up the stairs and listened at Mike's door. Sure enough, I could hear the bed squeak. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Can I come in?" I called out softly. "Um...ah.." Mike stammered. Guess he was trying to buy a little time to get himself arranged. "Ah....sure," he said finally. I opened the door and walked in. He lay in bed with the covers up to his bare chest. Hopefully, I'd soon find out if he was bare below the waist as well. The curtains were open and pale light filled the room. "Something wrong?" Mike asked, a look of guilt on his face. I think he was afraid he had gotten `caught' playing with himself. "No, not really," I said as I walked slowly across the room. My heart was pounding and I felt like I could barely talk. I sat on the edge of his bed, about at his waist level. "It's just that...I can hear you playing with yourself through the walls," I said finally. "And..um..I was wondering if you'd let me watch you." "What?" Mike said as he blushed. "You want to watch me?" "If you don't mind," I said hurriedly. "It's..well..I've never really seen a guy naked before and I keep hearing you masturbate. I'd really like to watch." Mike was silent. I don't think he quite believed me. "Are you serious?" he asked finally. "Yes," I said with a nod of my head. "I'd love to see you play with yourself." Still, he hesitated. But I noticed that the sheet was sticking up a bit. I was reassured - he got excited just at the idea. "You can say no if you don't want to," I assured him. "But if you do, I think it'll be fun. And I'll never, ever tell anyone." I was trying to be fair, to give the chance to say no if he wanted, but then I cheated a little. I placed my hand on his arm, resting it lightly, almost caressing him. "Um...ok," he said finally. By then, the sheet was sticking almost straight up in the air. He had tried hiding it by drawing his knees up but it was still obvious. "Really?" I asked eagerly. "Sure," he said slowly. "You can watch." "Oh, thank you, Mike!" He didn't make any moves, so I asked if I could pull the covers down. Blushing furiously, he nodded. I stood up and slowly slid the sheet down his body. Down his naked body, I soon discovered. Once the sheet was down past his penis, I threw it off the bed entirely. Finally, I was looking at a man's naked body! He was hard and I was kinda surprised at the color. Now, years later, I can say that he was probably average in size, but back then he looked pretty big. My first thought was how in the world something like that would ever fight inside my little pussy. "God, it looks good," I said softly. "You look good." Mike didn't answer. Instead, he just lay there, breathing hard. "Go ahead and touch yourself." He didn't move. Then I realized he was too embarrassed to play with himself in front of his sister. "It's ok, Mike," I reassured him. "Everyone masturbates. Wanna know something?" He nodded. "Alot of times, when I hear you through the wall masturbating, I start masturbating too. Almost as if we were playing with each other. So it's ok." Still, he hesitated, as if this was some kind of trap. Finally, he spoke. "You touch it." "You sure you want me to?" I asked, praying he'd say yes. I'd wanted to touch him from the start, but didn't want to push him. "Yes," he said in a strained voice. "Please touch it." "Okay!" I said with a grin. I had never touched a man like that before and my heart was hammering as I reached out. Pretty nervous about actually touching his penis, I placed my hand on his thigh first. Mike jumped a bit at the contact. I stroked his leg, moving more towards the inner thigh while watching his reaction. Mike's head was tilted back and his eyes were tightly shut. He was even biting his lower lip, so I guessed it was feeling pretty good. His legs spread slightly, kinda rolling outward so there was more inner thigh exposed. I took that as my cue and continued stroking, moving upward towards his groin. When my hand brushed his testicles, he jumped and moaned. "That feel good?" I asked. "Oh God yes!" "Good," I said with a grin. It was so neat to get Mike so excited. A strange sense of power seemed to come over me as I got my brother more and more turned on. Again and again, I let my hand `accidentally' brush his testicles. Each time I was rewarded with a twitch and a groan. Then I trailed my fingers up the side of his pelvis, softly touching his pubic hair. "Oh God, oh God," Mike was murmuring over and over again. Finally, he pulled a pillow over his face to muffle his moans. I played with his stomach a bit, lightly tracing circles around his navel, before working my way back down. I was drawn to his testicles again, since he seemed to like it so much when I brushed up against them. I used my finger tips to kind cup them and slowly stroked over the surface of his sack. His penis looked rock hard, with veins throbbing. I noticed a drop of liquid appear at the tip. It was time, I decided. Time to touch his penis. I ran one finger up his erect penis, so softly that I was barely touching him. Up to the tip. Every muscle in his body seemed to be tense and his penis was jerking a bit as I touched the head. I smeared the liquid all over the head, making it slick. "Oh. Oh. Oh." Mike whispered over and over again. He seemed lost, unaware of me or what was going on. Just lost in the excitement and pleasure. By then I was biting my own lip in excitement. I really didn't expect to get that excited playing with a Mike, but I could feel the dampness in my panties. Finally, I gripped his penis in my hand and stroked slowly. It didn't take much. I'm not even sure if I really started stroking him before he started coming. "Agghhghhh!" he screamed as his cum exploded out of his penis. I kept stroking, moving my hand faster and faster as I watched in amazement. Gush after gush of semen flew from him as his body jerked and twitched and clenched. It seemed that his semen was everywhere - some hit his pillow, some his chest, and the last few spurts dribbled down his penis over my hand. God, it was amazing! I kept stroking and watching. I loved the way his cum made his penis so slippery! "Stop," he cried, placing his hand on mine. "It's too sensitive right now," he gasped out. His eyes were still clenched shut and his entire body seemed flushed. Mike seemed like he needed time to calm down, so, with my dry hand, I stroked his leg to try to comfort him. To let him know it was alright. It seemed to be forever before his breathing slowed. "Did you like it?" I asked naively. Mike opened his eyes at last and looked at me. "It was incredible, Susan. Thank you." He seemed to get a bit embarrassed with me seeing him like that. I could tell he was looking around for the sheet to cover up. "You really liked it? It felt good?" I asked again. "Oh God yes," he said. "I've never had an orgasm like that before." "Good," I said with a blush. "Then maybe you'd like to do it to me?"

Collections/libertine/Collected/Loris.Letter.txt

WONDER WOMAN VS. DR. SCHAWTZ

It was another hustle and bustle day at IADC headquarters. With Steve Trevor on special assignment to capture the enigmatic Blonde, Diana Prince temporarily assumed his duties, keeping her quite busy. "Come on in, Diana." said Joe Atkinson. "What is it, Joe?" asked Diana as she sat down in his office. "We've received reports of stolen money, jewelry, and other luxury items from various celebrities in the entertainment industry. They all have a common place, Dr. Ira Schwatz, a physician who operates in a small victorian style building complex here in the city. I want you to investigate." "It sounds more of a police matter, Joe, not really IADC business." questioned Diana. "At first, I'd agree with you but the police have found nothing, and some influential politicians want answers. How soon can you leave?" "I'll start in a couple of hours." said Diana as she left. * * * That afternoon a young woman knocked on Dr. Schawtz's door and entered. It was Sally the Scufflin' Gal, female pro-wrestler and professional model. Dressed in her typical wrestling costume, she wore tight jean shorts that cutoff at the top of her thighs and her red and white pokeadot tank top. Trim and slender, tone, and physically fit, Sally has arrived for a quick physical. "Dr. Schawtz? Are you there?" asked Sally as she walked and sat down in a chair. Suddenly, Dr. Schawtz dashed from behind and covered Sally's nose and mouth with a handkerchief soaked with a mild anesthetic. Sally's eyes widened and she struggled briefly, only to soon fall asleep. "Ah, yes, yes!" smiled Dr. Schawtz evily. "Now, to get some ropes. Yes, some ropes." Dr. Schawtz tied each of Sally's arms to the chair's arm-rests at her wrists and elbows. With another strand of silk rope Dr. Schawtz wrapped it around Sally's arms and chest and secured her to the chair. Dr. Schawtz finished by removing her sneakers and socks, and tied each of her bare feet to the bottom chair posts. "Oh, yes. Marvelous!" sinisterly giggled Dr. Schawtz. Sally began to stir and awaken. When she awoke she looked in shock and alarm at her predicament and struggled to get loose to no avail. Seeing Dr. Schawtz, Sally angrily replied in her twangy country accent, "Who do you think you are tyin' me up like some Thanksgivin' turkey?! Lemme go!" as she struggled some more. Dr. Schawtz simply gave a smile as he began tickling Sally's bound bare feet. "AH! AH! Stop that mister! Untie me!" cursed Sally in between the giggles. "Struggle all you like, my dear, you won't escape." assured Dr. Schawtz. "The hell I won't!" yelled Sally as she kicked with her arms and legs in a frantic attempt to escape with no luck. "C'moan! Stop ticklin' me!" laughed Sally. "Yore makin' me moisten! And I don't like to be tied up when I'm moistenin'!" said Sally. "I'm sorry my dear, but the tickling will continue." laughed Dr. Schawtz as he continued tickling Sally's feet. "Leave me alone! Halp! Somebody halp me!" laughed Sally. "Okay, okay, I have what you want. My uncle is a state senator and lives in the city, and keeps $100,000 in negotiable bonds in his cookie jar." panted Sally. "Wonderful, my dear. When I snap my fingers, you will fall asleep and when I untie you, you will be totally refreshed and re-energized." smiled Dr. Schawtz as he then snapped his fingers. Sally fell asleep instantly, enabling Dr. Schawtz to complete the physical forms and untie Sally. Minutes later, Sally awoke. "It shore was nice of you to take me in at such short notice, Dr. Schawtz. I feel a lot better now." smiled Sally as she put on her socks and sneakers and left. "Not at all, my dear. Anytime." replied Dr. Schawtz as he waved goodbye. Soon after Sally left the two spies Darla Star and Chandler Crane emerged from the rear room. "Did you get all of that?" asked Dr. Schawtz. "Yes." replied Darla. "Good. The state senator is right now on a trip and won't be back until tomorrow. Chandler, now that you know where it is hidden, taking those bonds for yourselves as payment should be no problem." said Dr. Schawtz. "True enough. I'll leave immediately." smiled Chandler as she left. Darla Star remained. "Well, this is certainly a very effective method of interrogation. Effective, and not detrimental to the patient and doesn't relt on expensive drugs. I'm impressed." said Darla. "Thank you. I work hard at what I do. Now, set you to your task. Bring me Wonder Woman. I have a patient or two that need attending later on today." smiled Dr. Schawtz. * * * Later that afternoon another patient appeared at Dr. Schawtz's door. It was the California Girl, another female pro-wrestler and model like Sally. She was enroute to a house show, and was wearing her orange and grey split bikini and nude stockings on her legs. She was fairly tall with an athletic and trim body with long legs. "Like, hi doc!" pleasantly smiled the California Girl. "It's me, Kelli, you know, the California Girl? Like, where are you?" asked Kelli as Dr. Schawtz snuck up behind her and anestitized her in the same fashion he struck Sally the Scufflin' Gal. Dr. Schawtz laid Kelli's sleeping body on the carpeted floor. "Yes, one long rope should do the trick. Yes." smiled Dr. Schawtz as he wrapped a long cord of silk rope around Kelli, pinning and tying her arms together at her sides and bound her legs together and finished at her ankles. Removing her shoes, Schawtz saw her bare stockinged feet and finished binding them together. Kelli slowly began to stir but Schawtz couldn't resist and began tickling her feet. "Eep! Like, who did that?!" giggled Kelli. "Like, why am I mummy tied like this! Like, I can't move! Unnnh! Like, I REALLY can't move!" struggled Kelli. "Oh, the fun has just begun my dear...." laughed Dr. Schawtz. * * * BACK AT IADC HQ..... Diana Prince was setting out to investigate Dr. Schawtz. As she walked down an isolated side street she heard a muffled cry for help. Spinning in a circle and crack of thunder later, Diana Prince emerged as Wonder Woman! "Help! Help me!" nonchalantly said Darla, hiding behind her van. Wonder Woman followed the voice into a small alley. "Hello? Who's there? It's okay, I'm a friend." said Wonder Woman as she slowly walked down the alley. "That's it, Wonder Woman, into my trap!" sinisterly thought Darla to herself.asked Darla as she continued caressing and massaging Wonder Woman's clitoris. "Unnh! Why can't I move?! Untie me!" said Wonder Woman. "You don't like this, maybe this will be better..." smiled Darla as she began tickling Wonder Woman's bare feet. "AH! NO! DON'T DO THAT!" shrieked Wonder Woman as she started to giggle. "Ooooh, you're making me wet just seeing you tied up like this and squirming to get away...." replied Darla. "Tickle, tickle." said Darla as she began tickling Wonder Woman's breasts. "No! Stop!" winced Wonder Woman. "Why are you doing this to me? You tie me up and then torture me with tickling!!!!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as she laughed and shrieked. "Part of it is payment from a person who is dying to meet you, and another for my own pleasure. Tee-hee. Isn't this fun?" giggled Darla as she started tickling Wonder Woman's feet again. "AH! EEEEK! Yeah, just great..." sarcastically replied Wonder Woman. * * * While Wonder Woman was being tickled by the evil Darla Star, Tiffany Nellom, millionaress and fitness fanatic arrived at the office of Dr. Schawtz. She was on her way to a cameo appearance in a health spa commercial, and had stopped by for a routine checkup. Dressed in her gold bikini outfit and nude stockings on her legs and wearing high heels, Tiffany entered the office. "Hello? Anybody here? Hello?" said Tiffany as she entered the doorway, only to be put to sleep by Dr. Schawtz in the same quick fashion as before. Dr. Schawtz sat Tiffany in an armless chair and removed her high heels, revealing her pretty stockinged feet. "Oh yes. So pretty. But must get some ropes. Yes, many ropes for this one." said Dr. Schawtz. Dr. Schawtz wasted no time in tying Tiffany Nellom to the chair. Placing her arms at her sides, Schawtz tied her hands to the ends of the chair and then bound her feet together with another cord of silk rope. With yet another cord of silk rope, Dr. Schawtz wrapped it tightly around Tiffany's arms at her elbows, then criss-crossing over Tiffany's breasts, which were practically spilling out of her gold satin and spandex costume, tying her firmly to the chair. As a final measure, Dr. Schawtz tied Tiffany's legs to the chair by wrapping some silk rope around her thighs and the chair. Tiffany stirred and awoke and instantly saw her predicament. Kicking and struggling against the ropes, Tiffany was tied up tightly and could not get loose. "WAAAAH! WOOOO! I can't move! What's with this bondage stuff, doc?" shrieked Tiffany. Dr. Schawtz didn't answer, but simply smiled as he began tickling Tiffany's feet. "WAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! WAH-HA-HA-HA!" laughed Tiffany as she flipped out. Struggling frantically, the chair started to rock slightly, while the ropes still held her bound firmly in place. "Struggle all you like, my dear. It makes it more fun." laughed Dr. Schawtz as he continued tickling her feet. "Hey! Come on! This isn't very nice! You're making me moisten by this kinky stuff!" said Tiffany as she laughed again at the tickling. Dr. Schawtz then devoted his attention to Tiffany's bound breasts, and began mercilessly tickling them. "AAAAAAAH! Stop it! Stop tickling my breasts! WAAAAAAH!" laughed Tiffany. "Oh, my dear, you're the best patient today!" laughed Dr. Schawtz. * * * "No! Please! Stop it!" panted Wonder Woman. "It's my pussy that really needs attention....." said Wonder Woman. "Really....I didn't know you had it in you, Wonder Woman." lustily replied Darla as she began untying Wonder Woman. "See? I'm not so bad." said Darla as she untied Wonder Woman's arms and hands. Wonder Woman smiled, followed by a swift punch to Darla's stomach. "OOOOOF!" yelled Darla as she fell to the van floor. Wonder Woman wasted no time in tying Darla up with her magic lasso. Once Darla was secured, Wonder Woman finished untying herself and replaced her bracelets and power belt. "Who are you? Who are you working for?" sternly said Wonder Woman. Under the compulsion of the magic lasso, Darla said, "I'm....Darla....Star... ...Dr. Schawtz...hired....me....and....Chandler...Crane...to capture...you..." "What has Dr. Schawtz been doing to his patients?" authoritatively spoke Wonder Woman. "He.....subdues...them....then....extracts....info...on...where....they... s tore....their...valuables.....and...sends....Chandler....to...steal....th em..." "How? Is it a truth serum? A machine?" asked Wonder Woman. "No....he...has...a...special...method...tickling...." replied Darla. "Wonderful...." sarcastically replied Wonder Woman. * * * Within a half hour Wonder Woman dropped Darla Star at the police station and planned an intercept course toward Dr. Schawtz's office. "Your madness ends today, Dr. Schawtz, that I promise you." sternly said Wonder Woman. "AAAAAAAH!" laughed Tiffany Nellom. "You know want I want to know, my dear..." smiled Dr. Schawtz. "No! I'll never tell you!" defiantly giggled Tiffany. "Fair enough." laughed Dr. Schawtz as he began playing with and tickling Tiffany's breasts again. "AAAAH! WOOOO HOOOO HOOOO HOOOO! WAAAAH!" hysterically laughed Tiffany. "Marvelous, my dear, simply marvelous." cackled Dr. Schawtz. "I think I'll try a new position for you..." said Dr. Schawtz as he anesthetized Tiffany, making her fall fast asleep. After untying her, Dr. Schawtz picked up and carried Tiffany Nellom's sleeping body, laying her on a cot. Resting her head on a small pillow, Dr. Schawtz went to work again, tying Tiffany's hands behind the cot and then binding her feet to the cot. With a long cord of silk rope, Dr. Schawtz finished binding Tiffany Nellom by wrapping the rope around her arms and legs, strapping her to the cot. Wasting no time, Dr. Schawtz started tickling her feet again. "Unnnh? AHHHH! OOOOOOH! EEEEEEEE!" shrieked Tiffany with laughter as she noticed herself tied up again. "I can't take this tickling anymore! H-E-E-E-E-L-L-L-P!" laughed Tiffany. * * * Meanwhile, Chandler Crane was leaving the scene of her latest crime, stealing $100,000 in negotiable bonds. Entering her car and turning on the engine, Chandler was planning a quick getaway. After applying the gas pedal, Chandler noticed she wasn't moving and that the car seem "elevated". Looking behind her, Chandler saw none other than Wonder Woman, holding the rear end of the car up, preventing her from escaping. "*&^%$#@#!!!!" cursed Chandler Crane. "I knew I should have used my own car and not Dr. Schawtz's old clunker! Mine relies on front wheel suspension!" angrily said Chandler as she turned off the engine and left the car, firing a pistol at Wonder Woman. "Die, you &^%$#&^!!!!" yelled Chandler as she fired. Wonder Woman instantly dropped the car and deflected the bullets with her bracelets. Chandler fired again, only to have the bullets deflected. Panicking, Chandler turned and ran. With a superleap, Wonder Woman landed right in front of Chandler. "Are you going to come quietly or are you going to make me angry?" sternly asked Wonder Woman. "Okay, okay, I give up." confessed Chandler. "What do you want to know?" "Tell me the layout of Dr. Schawtz's office and his methods of interrogation. NOW!" assertively said Wonder Woman. After a few minutes of describing the layout of Dr. Schawtz's office and his devious techniques, Wonder Woman dropped her off at the police station. * * * At Dr. Schawtz's office, Dr. Schawtz continued his tickle torture of a bound and helpless Tiffany Nellom. "WAAAAAAH AH HA HA HA!" laughed Tiffany. "Please, please, please, please stop! Okay, okay, I'll tell you! I keep 1.2 million in travelers' checks in my winter condo here in the city. It's in a safe and the combination is....." panted Tiffany, only to be interrupted by Wonder Woman who kicked down the door. "Wonder Woman! Am I glad to see you!" breathed Tiffany with a sigh of relief. "Oh no! I'm out of anesthetic!" panicked Dr. Schawtz as he checked the bottle. "Must flee! Get away!" said Dr. Schawtz only to dragged down by Wonder Woman's lasso. Once subdued, Wonder Woman untied Tiffany Nellom. "Loser!" angrily said Tiffany as she slapped him in the face and left the office.

Chapter 1

Collections/LEXtext/WW/ww8.txt

WONDER WOMAN VS. JACK THE TICKLER

"OOOH! UUUUUUNH!" moaned Wonder Woman as the titillator continued its course, fondling her breasts while the vibrators induced orgasm after orgasm in Wonder Woman's body. "OOOOOOOOH! OOOOOOOH! YES! YES!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as the titillator started to overload and short out. "What! What are you doing? You're overloading my machine!" roared Miss Millie angrily. Before Miss Millie could vent any more frustrations the machine reached critical mass, exploding and falling apart onto the floor. "Curse you! Curse you Wonder Woman!" angrily yelled Miss Millie as she removed the mini vibrators and robot hands from Wonder Woman's body. "Have you any idea how long I was planning your demise this way?! You overloaded my titillator! Have you no shame????!!!!" "Calm down, Miss Millie, you could use a nap right now." said a voice from behind as an ether soaked handkerchief covered Miss Millie's nose and mouth. Seconds later Millie was fast asleep in the arms of none other than JACK the TICKLER. "Oh, no!" winced Wonder Woman as she began struggling against the ropes. "Oh, yes! Twice in a row! I don't think I'll be able to practice any of my rope work on you at this rate!" smiled Jacklyn as she quickly tied Millie's hands behind her back and feet in a rapid hogtie, leaving her bound on the floor. "Tickle, tickle, tickle...." laughed Jacklyn as she started tickling Wonder Woman's breasts. "No! Stop! Please, whatever you do, don't tickle me with my golden belt!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "What a good idea!" replied Jacklyn as picked up Wonder Woman's belt, placing in her lap. With a sudden surge of super strength, Wonder Woman instantly broke the ropes that bound her hands. Grabbing her power belt, Wonder Woman began ripping off the ropes. Jacklyn slowly walked back in complete shock as Wonder Woman placed her bracelets back on her wrists. Jacklyn pulled out an automatic pistol and fired two bullets, which were easily deflected by Wonder Woman. Before Jacklyn could turn and run, Wonder Woman threw her magic lasso around her, restraining the British outlaw. "Who are you?" assertively said Wonder Woman as she used the compulsive force of the magic lasso. "My...name's....Jacklyn....Sterling.....I....was sent....to...kill....you.... by....the....Nazis....." replied Jacklyn. "What do you know about Fausta and her sister?" asked Wonder Woman. "I....don't...know...where....they are....but....they're....is....in...this. resort...." replied Jacklyn as she fell asleep under the effects of the magic lasso. Wonder Woman left Jacklyn asleep on the floor as she left the room, looking for the dreaded Vunderkinds. Soon after she left a woman dressed in a nurse uniform awakened Miss Millie and untied her. "Miss Millie, are you all right?" asked the woman. "Connie! I'm glad to see you! Have you freed Bonnie and Lonnie?" "Yes. But the front doorman said that he spotted the Ilsa and Shauna Vunderkind! They're here!" excitedly said Connie. "Excellent! We can neutralize Wonder Woman and turn in the Vunderkinds! I'll receive rewards from both of the Axis powers at once! Summon the guards, we must find them!" hastily said Miss Millie. "What about her?" asked Connie, pointing at Jacklyn. "Who cares! I never saw her before." replied Miss Millie as she left with Connie. Soon after Miss Millie left plotting her next strategem, a man dressed in black entered the room and awakened Jacklyn.

Chapter 3

Collections/LEXtext/WW/ww15.txt

WONDER WOMAN:WEBS OF EVIL

It has been a couple days since the capture of the invisible maniac, and things slowed down a bit at IADC headquarters. In the cafeteria Agent Diana Prince and Beverly, the IADC receptionist, were enjoying a quiet lunch together. "Hey, Diana, here comes Harold Farnum. Why don't you try that joke I told you about this morning?" suggested Beverly. "I don't think-" "Oh, come on. It'll be fun!" giggled Beverly. "Oh, all right. Hello, Harold, would you like to join us?" asked Diana sweetly as she batted her eyelashes. "Sure, thanks! How are you, Diana?" asked Harold as he sat down. "Fine, just fine. Would you like to have an argument?" asked Diana as she giggled. "Um, no, not really." replied Harold. "Yes, you do." said Diana. "No, I don't." "Yes, you do." "No, I don't." "But you're arguing with me right now, aren't you?" giggled Diana. "No, we are NOT having an argument. All you're really doing is contradicting me." said Harold. "No, I'm not." replied Diana. "Yes, you are." "No, I'm not. We're having an argument, whether you like it or not." said Diana. "But this isn't an argument!" replied Harold. "Yes, it is." "No, it isn't." "Yes, it is." smiled Diana. "No, it isn't." "Yes, it is." "AAAARGH!" replied Harold in a fit of frustration. "Okay, I think that's enough, Diana." laughed Beverly. "Sorry, Harold, it was just a little joke. One that you entertained us with very professionally." complimented Diana. "Thanks....I think." said a perplexed Harold as he started eating his lunch. * * * The rest of the day was uneventful and somewhat boring, and Diana returned home from a long day's work at IADC headquarters. Early that evening while working on her home computer a strange hologram appeared near her. "Diana..." said a voice. "Who's there?" asked Diana as she looked around the room. "Diana..." said the voice again, sounding more familiar. "Andros? Is that you?" said Diana. "Yes, focus on me....this astral projection is more difficult than I anticipated...." said Andros. Concentrating on Andros' image, a full 3-D hologram appeared in front of Diana Prince. "Hello, Diana, I wish I could be the bearer of better news but Earth is in great peril. An alien villain who goes under the name 'Silkweave' is headed for Earth, seeking to steal the energy necessary to conquer my world. We are pacifists, not warriors; we are too weak and passive to stop it." said Andros. "What does this 'Silkweave' look like?" asked Diana. "It can transform into humanoid form, and appears like a medium sized man devoid of any hair on its body. In its natural state it appears like a part Earth spider, part Earthman creature. It possesses advanced technological weapons and can shoot strong webs to immobilize its victims. Do you have a computer?" "Yes." answered Diana. "Good. I will telepathically transmit the information to your computer device now." said Andros. The lights in Diana's room started to dim briefly. "It has started. Silkweave is on Earth and is already stealing some of Earth's energy as we speak!" exclaimed Andros. "The transmission is complete. Farewell, Diana, and may your quest be successful." "Thank you, Andros....Thank you." replied Diana as the hologram faded. * * * Shortly thereafter the power was restored and Diana heard a knock on the door. Answering it, Diana met a young woman with blonde/light brown hair and glasses, with a petite but attractive figure and demeanor. "Miss Prince?" asked the woman. "Yes." responded Diana. "Hi, I'm Rebecca Tisher, but you can call me Becky. I called you yesterday to about the interview for the Washington Gazette concerning the IADC." "Oh yes, please come in. I'm sorry, but things have been pretty busy around here and at IADC." said Diana as she picked up some loose papers. "Well, I'm here not only for the interview, but because a mutual friend, named Andros, referred me to you as well." Diana's eyes lit up and paused for a second of surprise. "You know Andros." "Yes, I met him several weeks ago when he made another visit to Earth. He's also told me about the alien Silkweave. Here's the info he sent me." replied Becky. "We need to talk." said Diana. * * * After a couple of hours of comparing Andros' notes and their own estimations, Diana and Becky managed to sort out their conclusions. "So, this alien 'Silkweave' is draining electric power to enhance its own abilities, and can shape-shift if necessary." said Diana. "Yes, that's what it says here. Then again, maybe it likes to kidnap and tie up pretty young girls in its webs!" joked Becky. Diana laughed. "I'm going to enjoy working with you. You said that you knew about Silkweave's arrival?" "Yes. I received it through the police radio on the way here. A nightwatchman was found tied up and told police about some bald guy eating electricity. The nightwatchman was kind of intoxicated, so I don't think they'll believe him." replied Becky. "Andros did manage to tell me where Silkweave's landing site was, though." "Great. I have a day off tomorrow. We'll check it out then." said Diana. "You will do no such thing, Earthlings!" said an alien voice as it crashed through the windows. It was a man dressed in normal clothes, but had no facial or body hair present; it was Silkweave! "Andros is a fool! You cannot beat me!" yelled Silkweave as it shot a stream of white, sticky, silk-like strands from a gun that wrapped around Diana's feet, tripping her to the floor. Another stream came from Silkweave's mouth, which wrapped itself around Becky's arms and feet, firmly binding her. Silkweave continued firing the web gun at Diana, binding her to the floor with the sticky webs. "Diana, help!" exclaimed Becky as Silkweave placed her on its shoulders. Turning to Diana before it left with Becky, it yelled out, "Come, Wonder Woman, come if you dare. Use tracking device to find me!" roared Silkweave as it tossed a device that landed near Diana. Silkweave leaped out of the window, disappearing with Becky Tisher. * * * Diana was firmly pinned to the floor, struggling frantically for several minutes to escape. "Oh God, I have to stop that creature...." said Diana to herself. Grabbing a pair of scissors that fell onto the floor, Diana started to slowly cut a hand and arm free of the sticky webs. Once her arm was free Diana cut away the sticky webs and rose to her feet. Spinning in a circle and a crack of thunder later, Wonder Woman emerged once again! Picking up the tracking device, she noticed a "blip" moving south, toward some old abandoned mine shafts. Leaping out the window and landing onto the ground below, Wonder Woman began her pursuit of Silkweave. * * * Meanwhile, Silkweave had carried Becky to its hidden lair, an old cave outside of Washington, DC. Becky had blacked out after Silkweave captured her, and slowly awoke. Waking, she tried to move, only to notice herself laying spread eagled on a large, sticky web. "I have to get out this...but how?" thought Becky to herself. Noticing that it was only her clothes that was stuck to the webs, Becky began to slowly slip out of them. Sliding her right arm out of her blouse sleeve, she unbuttoned her blouse slipped her left arm out and sat up, unbuttoning her jeans and removing her shoes. Wearing only her white panties and a white tank top, Becky slid her legs and feet out of her jeans and slowly slipped through the gaps within the giant web, landing on her feet onto the ground below. As Becky took a few steps to get away she was already detected. Two small robot spiders noticed her movement, and began firing this sticky silk webs that wrapped around her ankles, tripping her onto the ground stunned. "Excellent work. I shall finish the rest...." said Silkweave as it bound Becky's hands behind her back with webs and wrapped her arms and legs in the soft, silky web strands, and then placing her back onto the giant web. "Unnnh! Oohhh!" struggled Becky as she tried to break free from the silk webbing that bound her. "What are you going to do with me??" asked Becky. Silkweave replied with an evil smile and held a feather in its hand and said, "You will find out soon enough." * * * Using the tracking device, Wonder Woman reached the cave where Silkweave was hiding. The cave was a group of old mineshafts linked together and was remarkably well lit. Cautiously, Wonder Woman entered the cave. Meanwhile, Silkweave continued formulating its plans. Scrolling up some files Prodigy with its mouse on a stolen PC, Silkweave located its next power plant target. "Yes...the Dunham Power and Light Company....rich, electricity producing turbines.....so delicious...." cackled Silkweave as it glowly with an aura of electricity. "But must first deal with more pressing matters." Silkweave returned to the web where it was holding Becky captive. Walking on the web as like any normal surface, Silkweave smiled as it began to gently tickle Becky's stomach with a feather. "Hee-hee! Hey, cut that out! I can't move to get away!" giggled Becky.Silkweave continued tickling her stomach and ribs with the feather, making Becky hysterical with laughter. "No! Please! Let me go..." giggled Becky. "Stop what you're doing this instant!" authoritatively said Wonder Woman. Silkweave said nothing, but smiled as the two small robot drone spiders fired webs at Wonder Woman, binding her from her neck to her ankles in sticky silk threads. Seconds later, Wonder Woman broke free instantly with her strength, snapping the strands into tiny fibers. "You will have to do better than that, Silkweave!" said Wonder Woman. "Agreed." replied Silkweave as it fired a stream of webs at Wonder Woman, binding her arms and legs in a tight cocoon that went from her neck to her ankles. "Super strength is ineffective against my own webs which are energized with enhanced power...." gloated Silkweave as it carried the struggling Wonder Woman and stuck her to the giant web next to Becky. Silkweave leaped off the web and left the cave, saying, "Follow me if you dare, allies of Andros, it will mean your downfall!!!" as it darted away. Becky gave a surprised and confused look to Wonder Woman and asked, "Where do we go from here?" "I don't know...." replied a struggling Wonder Woman. "There's just so many layers!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as she struggled. Becky looked on and tried to get loose, to no avail. Several minutes later Wonder Woman managed to maneuver an arm free and began ripping the strands that bound her. Minutes later Wonder Woman was free, and then freed Becky. "Where to next? Do you think Silkweave will be at the Dunham power plant?" asked Becky as she put her clothes back on. "No." replied Wonder Woman. "Look at this schematic map Silkweave left behind. From its markings it points to here: the old Murraysville hospital." "The old sanitarium?" said a perplexed Becky. "It's been closed since the 1980s, there's nothing there, it's not even powered anymore." "But look, the power grid junction of three major power plants in the DC and Maryland area rendezvous under the hospital. If Silkweave taps into that junction...." "....then Silkweave will drain energy from three power plants at the same time!" exclaimed Becky. "I know a shortcut to Murraysville hospital through the woods outlying this old mine. We can get there is a few minutes!" said Becky as the two left the mine. Wonder Woman arrived at the old sanitarium, which appeared lit and well maintained even though it's been deserted for a few years. "Silkweave probably activated the backup generator for the lights..." said Wonder Woman to herself as she entered the hospital cautiously. Through a maze of hallways Wonder Woman searched room after room for a sign of Silkweave with no luck. Searching the isolation wards, Wonder Woman was attacked from behind by Silkweave. As she checked out a padded cell room a massive web hit her from behind, binding her arms together. An additional web struck Wonder Woman at her ankles, tying her feet and forcing her to the ground. Wonder Woman rolled to her back to see her foe: it was Silkweave indeed. "You are truly a worthy opponent." gloated Silkweave. "But I must now subdue you to prevent you from stopping me." said Silkweave as it began tickling Wonder Woman's knees. "No! hee-hee! Stop! Let me go! hee-hee!" giggled Wonder Woman as she frantically struggled against the webs. "So sticky...and strong...can't break...free..." laughed Wonder Woman. Meanwhile, Becky Tisher arrived at the sanitarium as well, and could hear Wonder Woman's laughter through the hallways. Grabbing an old piece of wood as a weapon, Becky followed the sounds and reached the room where Silkweave was tickling Wonder Woman. "Let her go, monster!" yelled Becky as she smashed the board on Silkweave. The board broke into tiny splinters, and Silkweave turned and glared at Becky. "eep." squeaked out Becky as she fainted. Silkweave fired its web gun again at Wonder Woman, cocooning her even tighter than before. Picking up Becky, Silkweave left the padded cell room, leaving Wonder Woman firmly bound. "No! Let her go!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as Silkweave left. Silkweave wandered aimlessly around the corridors, reaching a small room and placed Becky on a bed. Removing her clothes, Becky was left wearing her white tank top and panties. Procuring an old strait-jacket, Silkweave slipped the restraining device on Becky's slender body and secured it tightly. Laying her on the bed, Silkweave spread Becky's legs and strapped her to the bed at her ankles and her waist with the leather restraints attached to the bed. Becky began to stir. "Huh? Hey! Unnnh! Mmmmmp! Unnnh!" struggled Becky against the tight strait jacket. "What is that Earthling phrase? ah, yes, 'goochy, goochy, gooo'" said Silkweave as it began tickling Becky's feet. "No!" laughed Becky. "Stop that! That tickles!" laughed Becky some more. Summoning the last of her strength, Wonder Woman broke free of the cocoon, snapping the webs into tiny strands. Panting to catch her breath, Wonder Woman left the room looking for Becky. After a few minutes of tickling Becky's feet Silkweave removed an old fusebox that was in the room. "Yes...YES! This is the junction!" said Silkweave. Splicing some wires and attaching an alien device to the fusebox, electrical energy emanated from the box, making Silkweave glow with strange nimbus. Wonder Woman arrived in the room and kicked down the door. "Die, Earthling!" roared Silkweave as it fired an electrical surge at Wonder Woman, which was deflected with her bracelets. "You cannot stop me, Wonder Woman....the power....THE POWER!!!!!" roared Silkweave. "Wonder Woman! In my pants.....there's a device from Andros!!!" cried out Becky. "What?!" yelled Wonder Woman through the thunder and lightning. "There! On the floor! The white crystal! Use it!" Wonder Woman dodged another electrical bolt made by Silkweave and grabbed the crystal. The crystal suddenly glowed and began draining the electrical energy from Silkweave. The crystal suddenly grew hot, and Wonder Woman dropped it onto the floor while it continued draining Silkweave's energy. Wonder Woman dashed to the bed and began to untie Becky from the straps and strait jacket. "What was that?" asked Wonder Woman. "No time to explain, let's go!" yelled Becky as she grabbed her clothes and left the room with Wonder Woman. "NOOOOOOO!" yelled Silkweave as it collapsed onto the ground unconscious. "What did that device do?" asked Wonder Woman. "Andros told me that it was a containment field that drained Silkweave's energy once it began tapping into outside energy. It's like siphoning gas; Silkweave was stealing cups while we were taking gallons from it." smiled Becky. "I just wonder what we do now..." concluded Becky. "Leave that to me." said Andros. "Andros?!" exclaimed Wonder Woman in surprise. "Yes, it is I. I shall teleport Silkweave back to its homeworld. Without its stolen energies, it is harmless. Thank you, Wonder Woman. Thank you, Rebecca. You have saved our world, and yours....." replied Andros as it faded from sight with the crystal and Silkweave's unconscious body. "Not a bad day's work...." smiled Becky. "Not bad at all...." returned Wonder Woman with a smile.

Chapter 1

Collections/LEXtext/WW/ww1.txt

The Domination of Wonder Woman - Part 3

As Danny's car sped away, Drucella made her way down the dirt road that ran down to the beach. She had a difficult time convincing the boy she lived here and that she didn't want to ride with him anymore. "I don't know why everyone's so protective. Nothing's going to happen to me. I can take care of myself," she blasted as she stomped down the road. After about 20 or 30 feet, past the visibility of the road, the young amazon stopped and began to twirl. In a blinding flash, Wonder Girl stood where Drucella once was. Running at an amazing speed, she bounded and leapt down the road and cliff faces as she headed for the beach below. In a matter of a few minutes, she had leapfrogged her way to the bottom and stood in the white sand of the beach. The sun had gone down at this point, but the moon was full and it lit up the beach like a huge, soft spotlight. Of course, Dru didn't actually need that much light to see since her amazon physique gave her super vision along with her other abilities. "Where should I start," Dru said as she slowly moved around the beach. So anxious was she to lay her hands on a few Nazis that she hadn't noticed a sentry sitting halfway up the hill that overlooked the beach. Since Pamela's unannounced visit, the countess had decided a sentry would be a good thing to have. At first, the guard didn't see the young nymph coming down the hill since his vision was only normal and he could only see pale shadows and silhouettes. He continued to sit puffing away slowly on one of those delicious American cigarettes until Dru nearly landed on top of him as she did one of her 40-foot leaps down the cliff. All he could see was the underside of a very shapely girl passing nearly 3 feet overhead and shooting past him going downhill. He quickly snuffed out his cigarette and slid behind some rocks, grasping his field phone. "Damn!" he exclaimed as he slowly cranked the phone and picked up the receiver. - - - The countess sat at her desk as she reviewed various photographs of US government personnel when her field phone rang. "What is it," she said bluntly. "Wonder Woman! Wonder Woman is coming up the beach," said the whispering, stuttering guard on the other end. "WHAT!" screamed the countess as she quickly stood up. "Keep an eye on her! I'll be at the entrance." As she slammed the phone down in its case, she called out to her two assistants. "Hanz, Fritz! Come with me!" she ordered. All three of them bolted for the side tunnel entrance. The countess was an extremely attractive woman in her late 30s. Her family was the richest and one of the most influential families in all the Third Reich. She stood about 5'7" and had very long, jet-black hair that ran down to the small of her back. Her face was wide and full with two large, dark brown eyes and a wide, full mouth. Her eyes, no matter what expression, always had a slight tilt to them that gave her a devious look, giving anyone the impression that this woman always had something wicked and sexy on her mind. Her body was stalky but fit with two above-average-sized breasts and a set of wide, motherly hips. Her muscles and fat hung lazily on her frame, giving her a constant relaxed and satisfied look. It was as though you could come up behind her and grab her literally anywhere, and she would not jump once. Everything about this woman was dark, from her hair and eyes to her tight dress and skirt down to her silk stockings and black stiletto shoes. This woman's main weapon, besides her wits, was her body, which she took pleasure in using to get whatever she wanted. She peered through the peephole out onto the moonlit beach. "Ah, this is not Wonder Woman," she said slowly as she continued to study Dru. "Then who is it?" asked Hanz. "It is the Wonder Girl our agents reported to us on their last visit here. She's not what I had expected, but I have an idea," the countess said as she stepped away from the peephole. "Quickly, we haven't much time!" - - - Drucella walked along the beach, twirling and scanning it as though ready for anything. Like a kid playing a game, she pretended that every rock had a Nazi behind it. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she could see a light shining out of a doorway in the rocks. "Ah ha!" she said to herself as she stealthily entered the doorway. The hallway was poorly lit except for the one bright bulb at the entrance. Along the sides were several tall crates which formed a narrow corridor running down the center. At the other end, she could spy a female form facing her. "Come into my web, said the spider to the fly," the countess mused. "I don't know who you are, but if you're the countess, I'm going to capture you and your group of Nazis!" Dru proclaimed as she stood with her hands on her hips and her legs slightly apart. "OOOOOO! I'm so afraid," mocked the countess as she hunched her back in pretend fear and wiggled her fingers at the young girl. Like a steam locomotive blowing its stack, Dru snarled and bolted at the countess. In a matter of moments, she was on the dark-haired woman, but as she went to grab her, her hands bounced off a hard, flat surface. The mirror fell backward and hit the soft dirt floor as Dru stood stunned and confused. At that moment, she felt a hard pull from behind as her magical belt left her waist. The countess stepped out from behind one of the crates holding the belt. "Get her!" she cried. At that moment, a mob of 5 men jumped out from behind various crates and piled on top of the now helpless Drucella. Dru wiggled and gyrated in futility as the mass of arms and legs wrapped themselves around her struggling body, holding it in place. As they pulled her to the floor, a hand came from behind her head, and a handkerchief clamped itself down over her nose and mouth. She struggled wildly as the ether took effect, sapping the girl's strength. The mass of bodies surged as the struggling girl fought in hopeless desperation to escape. At last, though, the overwhelming odds were too much, and the young amazon's struggles stilled. Drucella let out a soft, dull moan as she slipped unconscious. The countess stepped up to the pile of men as they picked up the unconscious heroine. "Take her," the countess said nonchalantly as she examined Wonder Girl's lasso. "You've earned some ehem... entertainment." With that, the men reveled in their captured prey and carried Dru down the dark, murky hallway toward the grotto. "Yes, my dear Wonder Woman, you will come to save your sister," the countess said, holding up the lasso, "And I'll be waiting." - - - "Dru, Dru..." Diana called out as she walked into the living room. "Where is that girl," she thought as she looked about the apartment. As she walked back into the living room, she spied Dru's note on the telephone. "Damn!" Diana cursed, and with that, the large brunette bolted out the door and down to her car. - - - The countess slowly sauntered down one of the curved tunnels that made up the tiny maze of hallways in the underground base. The base wasn't built by the Nazis. Apparently, years ago, this cave was constructed by gangsters during the prohibition to smuggle and make liquor. In researching a place of operations, the German high command had found out about the grotto and made sure all records of it were removed from the local police records. She made her way toward a large wooden door at the end of the narrow hallway. As she approached, a slight smile came to her face as the sounds of moans and grunts grew louder and louder. She knew the sound of torture when she heard it, and a slight tingle of excitement shot down her back and between her legs as she opened the cell door. She stood in the open doorway, staring and biting lightly on her lower lip as she watched in deviant satisfaction at the tantalizing spectacle before her. Drucella was on the floor. Her hands were tied together and over her head and securely anchored to a large ring that hung from the ceiling. This left her in a doggie-style kneeling position with her upper body weight supported by her hanging arms. She was stripped naked and was in the company of three of the dock workers. The first was laying on his back, parallel to Dru and underneath her. His legs were spread wide apart and they lay to either side of her knees. This put him in a position where his face rested almost right under the young captive's large breasts. In each hand, he had firmly cupped each breast and was feverishly squeezing and massaging them. The large round orbs flattened and squished together violently as he took insidious joy in molesting them. His fingers pinched and pulled at her ripe, hard nipples, making each gland shimmy and slosh about as she reacted to each teasing tug with a twist of her torso. Every now and again, he would wrap his arm around her back and pull himself up, landing his mouth hard down over an exposed nipple. Like some wild animal feeding, he would suck and squeeze her tit violently in some vain attempt at milking her dry. Drucella grunted and moaned, but her helpless cries were muffled.The second worker was poised in front of her with his pants down around his ankles. With his hands clamped around her brunette head, holding it still, he slid his penis in and out of her mouth slowly, forcing the member deep into her throat with each pump. Drucella breathed heavily through her nose as the member completely blocked her mouth. Her lips wrapped around it tightly and she could do nothing as it penetrated her mouth again and again. Behind her though, was the main reason for her struggling and moaning. Another dock worker was crouched behind her, his heavy, hard hands wrapped around her waist. He twisted and pounded his cock inside of her over and over as he viciously penetrated and raped her. Her hips surged and wiggled about in defiance as he continued to thrust himself deeper and deeper into her defenseless vagina. With each intense thrust came a corresponding moan of resistance from the bound girl. "Ah the great Wonder Girl, HA!" gasped the enraged worker. "I'll teach you a little lesson in manners BITCH!" he exclaimed as he stepped up fucking her. As the worker increased his pumping, Dru began to wiggle about frantically. As she did so her head bobbed and rocked back and forth, intensifying the second worker's experience. Like a balloon ready to burst, the pressure began to build. As each man thrust his cock into her, she reacted by gyrating in resistance. This excited the men even more and the vicious spiral continued to climb. Then, almost as though she knew what would happen next, Dru began to moan wildly, grunting objective sounds of resistance as the two men began to arch their backs, surging in excitement. Sensing the coming flood, the first man under her, grabbed her firmly around her back and plunged a breast into his mouth, sucking on it as hard as he could. Dru began to yell at this point, knowing she could not escape. Swelling higher and higher, the mound of men and one girl surged inevitably upward. Then, in a moment of tension filled silence, both men let out a low, dull cry as each exploded inside her. Drucella gulped and choked as the cum filled her mouth and forced itself down her throat. The man in front of her reached his hand down under her chin and slowly caressed the lump in her throat, forcing her to swallow heavily. The rest of the cum poured out around her mouth and trickled down her chin forming a trail of semi white liquid. This trail added to the already existing trails, made over the last few hours, that ran down her neck, over her chest and down each breast. That pretty little mouth had tasted several of the countess's men and this was most definitely not the last. The worker behind her grabbed her buttocks with each hand and continued to penetrate her, making sure to pump every last drop inside. "How's that you American slut!" gloated the worker. "Maybe you like some more eh!? Maybe I let you lick it clean?!" Dru rocked back and forth slowly as the two men continued to relieve themselves inside her. She had spent the last few hours at the hands of her tormentors being relentlessly violated. At first the experience was painful and rough but, as each man took his turn, she slowly began to slip into a state of semi-euphoria. Each penetration brought her new, overwhelming experiences as the shock passed and the waves of ecstasy poured through her. "Enough." The countess said slowly and softly, "Can't you see our little guest is enjoying herself too much as it is? We don't want to over indulge her now do we?" she said in a sadistically, sarcastic voice, letting out a deviant chuckle as she entered the room and waved off the three men. "Ya Vole." blurted the three men as they forcefully pushed the defeated female to the floor and stood to their feet, getting dressed. They stood around the helpless female in a protective semi-circle as the countess walked around to Dru's front and knelt down to face her. Reaching out with one hand she softly grabbed Drucella by the chin and forced Dru to look her in the eye. "Now you don't want to do this all day do you?" asked the countess. "I would think the few hours you've had to get to know my men and to find out what kind of nice people they are would make you just anxious to be our little friend." she said smiling. Drucella let out a defiant, animalistic snarl as she pulled her head away from the countess's stare. Drool and cum dribbled out of her wet mouth as she gritted her teeth and stared rebelliously back at the woman. "When my sister gets here, you're going to be real sorry!" Dru exclaimed in protest in a low, rasping voice. The countess pulled her hand away and looked at the cum on her fingers. Then, staring back at Wonder Girl she slowly plunged her fingers into her own mouth and sucked the cum from them, licking the remnants off each fingertip and off her lips. Drucella's mouth opened slightly in surprise at the depravity of this woman. The countess stood back up and smiled a cool, wide smile as though patronizing Drucella. "Don't worry my dear, your sister will be joining you shortly." she giggled as she walked to the door. She then gave one of the men behind Dru a quick stare and a nod. With that, the three men pounced on the helpless heroine. Untying her hands they wrestled her to the floor, pulling her hands behind her back and tying them, first at the elbows, then at the wrists. They then proceeded to gag her, first stuffing her mouth with a rolled up rag and securing it in place with a long white handkerchief. "Seeing how you don't want to talk, you don't mind being gagged now do you." chuckled the countess as she reached into her coat pocket and produced a long, thin, nicely decorated, black box about 12 inches long. After trussing Drucella up, the men rolled the struggling amazon on her back. Two of the men each grabbed a leg and pinned her limbs down while the third held her down by the shoulders. The countess walked around to Drucella's feet and knelt down between her legs. "And just so you don't get bored with your own silence, I think you should meet a very, very close friend of mine." said the countess as she opened the box and pulled out its contents. The dildo was about 12 inches long, made of ivory and was carved with several wicked bumps and ridges that ran all down its length. At the end, a special protrusion ran from the base, back up the length and to the top. At the end of the protrusion was a large ball that clamped down on the phallic with a kind of spring tension. The whole thing looked like a huge, wide ball point pen with a pocket clip running along the outside. Also from the base ran two thin elastic strap loops. "I call this my bitch tamer." said the countess as she leaned toward Dru and looped each elastic loop around Drucella's feet and slid the dildo up her legs. Dru surged and cried muffled cries of resistance as the over-sized dildo plunged into her. The clip portion slid up along the outside of her vagina, between her lips and the ball clamped down hard on her exposed clitoris. The countess then took the loop ends and hooked them over Dru's wide hip bones, strapping the diabolic phallic in place. She then gave Dru a couple of affectionate pats on her tummy and stood up. The two men holding her legs forced her legs together and, using several lengths of rope, they tied her legs together at the thighs, knees and ankles. They then returned to holding her down. The bound and gagged nymph struggled and gyrated slowly as she tried to work the dildo out. "Oh you'll never get that out." the countess mused. "Oh by the way, let me show you my favorite feature." and with that the countess reached between Dru's legs and flipped a switch at the base of the dildo. Drucella's hips surged uncontrollably as the phallic went to work vibrating and thrusting in a relentless attempt to defeat its victim. The countess then leaned over Dru's face and, kissing her two fingers she placed them on Dru's cheek and said "Good-bye my sweet. Soon you will be broken and you will tell me everything I want to know." With that the three men let Drucella go and stood out of the way. Like a wild, bucking filly being let out of its shoot, Dru flailed and gyrated frantically on the floor as the waves of uncontrollable ecstasy pounded away at her will power. The four left the cell staring and laughing at the bound and gagged heroine struggling and moaning on the floor. As they left they could hear a low dull moan from the helpless Wonder Girl as the first of dozens of climaxes claimed a little portion of her will power. "She will break soon." the countess softly said to her men. "The real challenge will be Wonder Woman and I have a very special surprise in store for her." "It will be a pleasure bringing that American bitch down off her high pedestal.""Ah, the famous American avenger Wonder Woman. I've heard so much about you." said the man as he stood in her path. He was tall, lean and wore a thick black raincoat with a Stetson hat. "Is this what you are looking for?" he said as he held up Drucella's barrette, balancing it on his finger and sprouting a wicked smile. "YOU!... What have you done with Dr... Wonder Girl!" Diana blasted almost blurting out Drucella's name. "I'm going to make you all PAY!" and with that Diana bolted for the mysterious gentleman. Suddenly, like a train slamming on the brakes, she slid to a stop about 3/4 the way to her target. Stopping for a moment she spied the man more closely. "The buttons..." she thought to herself. Looking about she could see a stack of crates between her and her antagonist, a stack of crates that would be a perfect hiding place for what she suspected was going on. Standing upright and confidently putting her hands on her hips, she cocked her hips to one side and sprouted a suspecting smile. "I didn't know women's clothing on men was the main fashion in Germany these days?" she asked coyly. "Vas is this?" The man said looking very puzzled at himself. "Vat do you mean?" "The buttons on your raincoat. They're on the wrong side. Either you like wearing women's clothing or..." Diana leapt forward, ignoring the man in front of her and headed straight for the hidden area behind the crates in front of her. "...you're a reflection..." she stated as she pounced on the knook. With a burst of speed and agility she twisted him out from behind the crates and flipped him hard over her head and down the tunnel back toward the entrance. At that point, two men stepped out from behind the stacks of crates between her and the exit and began shooting at her. She effortlessly deflected the first round of bullets with an arrogant smile. The two men paused for a moment and then took steadier aim, firing continuously at the amazon. This time the task was harder as each shot was much better aimed and the two men fired at separate areas. Shortly, however, the satisfying sound of "click...click" rang from both guns as both men expended their rounds. They dropped their guns and headed back toward the exit. Wonder Woman shot after them in hot pursuit as the two agents bolted out the secret entrance door and out onto the beach. She forcefully plowed into the stone door, forcing it wide open as she emerged onto the stone ledge that overlooked the beach. As she jumped down into the sand, she unhooked her magic lasso and began twirling it. She couldn't use it in the tunnel since it was too narrow but, out here, she was free to wield it. "Big mistake boys," she said confidently as she threw the line, "at least in the tunnel I couldn't rope you." The lasso coiled around both the running agents and, with a quick tug, she pulled the rope closed, smashing the two men into each other and flipping them backward onto the ground. Slowly she sauntered up to the dazed men, reeling in the rope as she walked. "Now gentlemen, we're going to have a nice talk and you're going to tell me everything I want to know starting with where is Wonder Girl?" Picking one of the men up by his coat collars Wonder Woman pulled him close to her, staring him straight in the eye. The agent dangled his feet as the amazon held him off the ground. "I guess its too bad for you I didn't fall for your little trap." Diana said arrogantly. "On the contrary, THIS is the trap..." and with that the agent pulled a small pin from out of his coat and turned his face. The gas from the canister under his coat shot out like water from a fire hose directly into Diana's surprised face. The buxom heroine reeled in shock as she staggered backward, taking the full blast from the canister. She dropped the half stunned agent as she tried to cover her mouth in a vain attempt at blocking the gas. At that moment, she could feel something wrap around her shoulders as Drucella's lasso coiled around her. Instantly she could feel the effects of the magical item as her will quickly faded. Thrashing and reeling like a roped stallion she twisted and struggled against both the gas and the magic rope. "Don't fight it my dear," calmly said a female voice, "you cannot win." "How do you like our new gas?" the countess asked teasingly. "You see it works by skin contact and not by breathing it in. Since we're all wearing these nice thick raincoats and you're wearing that skimpy little outfit, the gas hardly affects us but I'm sure its taking its toll on you." The countess was right. Diana's bare legs, arms and upper chest were covered with a thin layer of the white powder which quickly impregnated her skin, causing her to feel intensely dizzy. She could feel the beach spin out from under her as she rolled to the ground struggling. As she hit the ground, several of the agents piled on top of her, rolling her on her stomach. With a quick yank she felt her magical belt slip away from around her waist. At that moment her strength went to normal and the men easily subdued the defenseless heroine. "Tie her." ordered the gloating countess as she tossed the men Diana's loose rope. The men first took Drucella's rope and continued wrapping it around Diana's shoulders, pinning her upper arms. They then pulled her arms behind her back and bent each arm at the elbow, folding them into a box like configuration with her left hand resting near her right elbow and visa versa. Using the remaining end of Drucella's rope, they tied her left hand to her right elbow and her right hand to her left elbow and then wrapped the rest around her parallel fore arms, binding the two arms tightly together. Scooping up her thighs they wrapped her own rope around her legs, first at the thighs, then at the knees and finally at her ankles, securing the rope with a series of very tight knots. Diana gyrated slowly as the anesthetic gas took its toll along with the effects of both ropes. By the time the men were done, the fallen heroine had barely enough will power to struggle slowly in desperation. Then a rag was forced into her mouth and another rag was tied around her head to hold it in place. The amazing Wonder Woman lay on the beach; bound, gagged and defenseless. "Stand her up." ordered the countess. The men easily lifted the bundled heroine and stood her on her weakened feet. The countess looked deeply and coldly into Diana's defiant eyes. "I have looked forward to meeting the world famous American heroine Wonder Woman. I will look forward to breaking you." and with that the countess slide her hand between Diana's legs and firmly cupped her vagina. Diana surged backward in shock as she realized what the countess meant. The men scooped up the struggling heroine and carted her like some bagged prey back toward the tunnel entrance.They floated and rolled slowly to either side of her chest, assuming their natural almost perfectly round form. As her costume continued to slide further down, she could feel the hands of her undresser slowly and smoothly pass over her back, down her spine and over her buttocks. Every inch sent a chill down her spine as more and more of her was revealed to her captors. The man slid her costume the rest of the way down over her wide hips to her feet, slowly stroking her bare legs with his large coarse hands. At the same time her boots, bracelets and beret came off and hit the floor, stripping the heroine of her only remaining protection. A dead silence hit the room as the men stared in awe at the almost perfect physical specimen before them. Even the countess was taken back by this woman's incredible body as she slowly walked up to Wonder Woman. "Incredible," she said slowly, speaking to herself as she cupped one of Diana's large, globular breasts and slowly massaged it. For what seemed like an eon the woman stood there, slowly squeezing and caressing Diana's breast, stroking and sliding her fingers over her bare and aroused nipple. The men stood about drooling with anticipation. This Wonder Woman was one thing but, seeing their boss who was also quite attractive, performing this incredible act with another woman was too much. The crowd began to bustle with excitement like a pack of dogs waiting for the first piece of meat. The countess slowly sauntered to the exit, giving Diana a wide, evil smile as she walked past her and to the door. Then, stopping for what seemed like an eternity, the countess let the room grow silent. Diana's fear grew like a volcano as her heart pounded away each agonizing second. Then her heart sank to her stomach as the words hit her ears. "Break Her!" With that, the horde of men let out a horrendous, Viking's yell of celebration as they all rushed toward the helpless heroine. Diana let out a few masterful kicks that sent one or two of the men to their knees but it was a token effort at best. Arms and hands enveloped the heroine's naked, struggling body and she fell backward into the vicious crowd. At first she could feel dozens of hands all over her, sliding themselves up her legs, along her thighs, over her knees, around her buttocks, across her stomach... they were everywhere. She struggled and gyrated frantically in a futile effort to resist her captors. This alone was worth the price of admission as the incredible brunette's body put on an irresistibly erotic show. Just the pleasure of grabbing a soft, struggling thigh or a plump, tightening buttock, made most of the men greatly aroused. The men then began to get organized. They soon realized that too many hands reaching for the cookie pot would leave no one with a cookie. Holding Wonder Woman up at all times, two of the men wrapped their arms around her back to support her. One arm went under her back while the other was free to play with the prizes that lay helplessly before them. Each man cupped a breast, forcing the nipple into his mouth, squeezing and massaging the large gland frantically. These were the most amazing prizes in the universe and the men were not going to let this opportunity go to waste. Each tit surged and flattened, swelled and sloshed as her breasts were sucked and squeezed feverishly and relentlessly by the two mindlessly aroused men. Diana moaned and screamed viciously as the barbarians continued to molest her breasts. Her hair splashed about in waves of violent emotions like water on a stormy sea as the men bit and sucked at her ripened nipples. Then, suddenly, a hand grabbed a clump of her hair at the back of her head and pulled her head down, curling it toward her back. From an upside down view she could see a large, callused hand unzipping a pair of pants as the dock worker standing over her head pulled out his penis. Diana's hips rose in a stiff, defiant arch as the worker's hard, swelled member plunged itself deep into her soft, warm mouth. She grunted and moaned heavily as he began to slide it back and forth in a rhythmic, pulsating fashion. Her large, full, red lips wrapped themselves tightly around his penis and she began to suck on it in an almost instinctual, reactive way. She was not as frightened of the situation as she was frightened of the fact that this whole predicament was turning her on. On Paradise Island she was a princess, a person of royalty who could not permit herself one personal pleasure or allow herself to fall to the weakness of the flesh. Most temptations she could resist, like the incident with Pamela (part 1) but this was different. So many hands, such barbarism. The sensation of all those hands groping and molesting her royal body. She had never felt like this before and it excited her. She fought the sensation however, knowing she could not give in to her temptations. Her thoughts were harshly shattered however as the unthinkable occurred. Her hips surged again as another worker slid his bare hips between his legs and began entering her. Diana's hips slid about wildly and frantically as his penis slowly worked its way deeper and deeper past the tightened, defiant muscles in her vagina. Irresistibly she yielded to his overwhelming strength as his member hit home, fully penetrating her. She grunted and moaned in futility as he began to slowly and rhythmically pump in and out, her defiant hips slowly thrust with each insertion. The two began to form a rhythm and her resistance began to wane as the worker continued his relentless assault on her virtue. The workers now formed a large mass of bodies as the naked, helpless female in the middle thrust and surged as her body was forcefully entered. The erotic moans and whines from the Amazon were the only sounds coming from the group, with none of the men speaking or making a sound so as not to disturb the arousing noises coming from the struggling heroine. The men that could not participate were not without entertainment however as the vision of this incredible woman being gang-banged was as good, if not better, than actually being in the act. The capture, tying up and assault were taking their toll on Wonder Woman as she began to wiggle about violently. The heavily, fatiguing activity she was going through; her mouth being entered, her breasts being maliciously violated and her vagina being ruthlessly penetrated began a heavy, tingling wave which started at her pelvis and slowly moved toward her chest. "NO!" she screamed in her mind. "How can I do this... I can't be enjoying this..." she thought in disbelief as the climax began to build. She fought to resist the oncoming event but her will was severely weakened by her attack and Drucella's rope, which still bound her hands tightly behind her back. Suddenly, her hips thrust and surged quicker and quicker as she blurted out moans of defiance. Both men feeling the oncoming wave began quickening their pace along with the two sucking her breasts. The sensations were overwhelming, the powerlessness, the bondage, the hands groping her, the defenseless position she was in, these all raced through her mind as her body plunged upward in one last defiant surge. Then with a monstrous release, she collapsed into the arms of her rapists as the first climax took a piece of her will. At that same moment, her struggles had excited the two men penetrating her and, at the pinnacle of her climax, they discharged, relieving themselves inside her. As the two men relaxed into a slow pumping rhythm, the man violating Diana's mouth was forcefully pulled away. His discharge sprayed over her face as he was pushed aside and the next worker moved into place, plunging his member deep into her gasping and helpless mouth. The other man was also forcefully asked to step aside and she thrust again as she could feel a new penis enter her. Her struggling quickened as she slowly began to regain her wits and her two new assailants began enjoying their captured prize. Thinking the climax was over and now she could fight, her heart sank in hopeless desperation as the next wave of sexual excitement rushed up and overwhelmed her. Each man finished enjoying himself and another took his place, then another, then another until the waves of climaxes and multitudes of sensations made her lose count. Hand after hand groped her breasts, mouth after mouth sucked her nipples. Her mouth and face were covered with heavy streams of cum as she was taken advantage of over and over again. Each penetration brought her new sensations and each climax took away a small piece of her will. The heroine continued to come in hopeless despair as her body was raped again and again.The rope continued snaking down around her waist, around her hips several times, around her thighs several times, around her knees and finally around her ankles. She was like a fly, cocooned in a spider's web, all tied up and sucked dry. Her head hung down with her matted, wet hair flopped over her bare chest and shoulders. Her breasts were still shapely and firm but were red and tender and they had lost a certain amount of perkiness. They lay loose and low over her stomach. Her legs and hips were very loose and hung in a defeated posture against the post. Streams of dried cum and sweat stains streaked down the insides of her full thighs, along her shapely legs and to her ankles. The defeated woman began to moan softly as the countess grabbed her prisoner by the hair and raised her head. Wonder Woman's mouth was gagged with a rag stuffed inside and a thick terry towel tied around it to secure it in place. Her eyes had thick, dark circles under them from the hours of fatigue and torturous climaxing she had gone through. Her eyelids were heavy and dull from exhaustion. "The great Wonder Woman. HMPH! Look at you NOW!" scoffed the countess. "I always knew you Americans were weak. We Germans are much stronger. Breaking you was too easy." and with that she roughly pulled Diana's gag off. Dried streaks of cum and saliva stained Diana's chin and neck. Her dull, dried mouth slowly began to speak. "I'll never break." she rasped slowly. "You'll never defeat my will." A smile of absolute delight burst from the countess's lips. "YES! You are strong!." and with that, the countess grabbed the back of Diana's head and forced Diana to kiss her. The kiss was long and deep and slow. The countess oscillated her lips heavily as she drew out the long, passionate kiss. She then sucked on Diana's lower lip, slowly pulling it outward with her own lips and let it slip back with a slight pop. "Take her to the room." the countess ordered as she strutted away with delight. The two agents, carefully untied the defeated heroine and carted her off, one caring her bound arms and chest, the other her thighs and legs. Diana could only see hazy images of lights as she was carried down several corridors. Soon she was stood upright again as the four reached their destination. The room was rather large, about 20 feet in diameter, and was very circular with the only apparent exit or entrance being the door they came in from. The middle of the room was dominated by a large, unidentifiable, rectangular shape that was covered with a thick, black cloak. The shape was about ten feet tall, 6 feet across and about two feet thick. "I've been waiting for this." the countess gloated as she grabbed Wonder Woman by her chin and forced her to stare into the witch's black eyes. "Remove the cloak." she ordered, unaltering her gaze. The two men removed the cloak and stepped aside. The countess slid around behind Diana and wrapped her arms around her chest, cupping each breast with her hand. "Take a look my dear. This will certainly tame you." Diana's eyes widened in utter horror as she staggered backward in shock. Before her was a machine shaped very similar to an old, medieval rack. It had a basic outer frame with crossing I beams from each corner. On the upper corners were two straps that resembled leather handcuffs. The bottom two corners had two stirrups and more leather straps. The whole frame was tilted back about 15 degrees and was propped up by two large supports. The whole thing looked like a large, metal picture frame. Running along its length and between the beams were several hydraulic cylinders, cables and pulleys. Various other mechanical devices were attached to parts of the frame and a whole band of cables ran from the frame to a control panel that was anchored to the side. "OH YOU FIENDS!" Diana cried out as the two agents picked up her weakened, struggling body and carried it to the machine. Untying her hands, the two men forced her arms into the leather cuffs and secured them in place. They then slid their hands down and clamped Diana's legs into the stirrups, spreading her legs at about a 30 degree angle from each other. They finished binding their victim by wrapping a leather belt around her waist which clamped her gyrating pelvis tightly to the frame. They then stepped back and all three stared in amusement at the restrained heroine. Diana surged and thrust wildly giving the three a very entertaining show of female struggling. After a bit, and after totally exhausting herself, Diana settled down and growled defiantly at the countess and her two lackeys. "I demand to be freed!" Wonder Woman exclaimed, "I will never yield to you or the Nazis!". "Oh, but we don't want you to." replied the countess. "You're so much more entertaining this way." and with that all three burst into a chorus of humiliating laughter. "Here, let me show you my latest creation." said the countess as she walked up to the control panel. After flicking a few switches, Diana's eyes popped open as she could feel the whole apparatus come to life. Then, sensing some movement below, she looked down and gasped in horror. Between her legs, a mechanical arm extended out from the frame. On the end of the arm was mounted a cylinder with various tracks on it. Each track had another arm extending from it but, what shocked Diana the most was what was on the end of each arm. Mounted ominously to each mechanical arm was a large dildo. Each arm sported a different a wicked model which was wet with lubricant and oil. Some were just large, smooth and round while others were rigged and insidiously curved. Each one rose like cobra snakes rearing their threatening heads toward the bound heroine. Diana again began to twist and wiggle at her impending fate. "Yes my dear Wonder Woman. I'm sure these will finish you off. I just hope you last as long as I did. It took almost two hours for me to break." said the countess as she stared long and admiringly at the device. The machine continued to unfold, like some insidiously deviant Swiss army knife. Two arms on either sides of Wonder Woman's breasts curled forward from the machine's sides and two large suction cup devices, mounted to their ends, positioned themselves ominously over Diana's plump, bare breasts. "My machine can break anyone, including you Wonder Woman, if it has a sufficient amount of power and I think we have the perfect little dynamo right here." and with that the countess clapped her hands and the door to the room opened. Drucella slowly sauntered into the room and walked up to the gloating countess. She was stripped completely naked except for her red boots, her baret and her magical belt, which sat snugly around her thin waist. Her hands were tied in front of her with Diana's magic lasso and she wore a glazed, hypnotic stare which made her oblivious to Diana and everything else around her. "Your magical rope is quite amazing Wonder Woman." noted the countess. "After breaking this little nymph's will, it was quite easy to control her mind with it. She'll do anything I ask." The countess stepped back and looked at one of her agents. "Satisfy my man!" harshly ordered the woman. Without a moments hesitation the young amazon walked up to the agent and knelt down in front of him. She then unzipped his pants and wrapped her full lips around his enlarged erection. The man grabbed her head and held it firmly as he took advantage of this girl's magical mouth. Diana starred in shock, not at the act, but at how well Dru was performing it. "Where the heck did she learn to do that!" Diana wondered giving her bonds another desperate tug. After a few moments the agent let out a deep, low grunt as he released. Drucella finished up by licking him absolutely clean. She then stood up running her tongue over her wet lips and stood at attention. "Come my dear." said the countess as she took Wonder Girl by the rope tied around her hands and lead her to a treadmill which stood off to one side of the room. The treadmill had several leather straps and rings attached to it and the countess attached the straps to a leather collar that sported several rings. She then ordered Dru to stand on the treadmill and she affixed the collar around her neck, securing the girl in place. Walking up to Diana, the countess picked up Drucella's lasso and began wrapping it around the brunette's upper chest, securing it in place with a decoratively looped bow. Diana lurched as the effects of the lasso began to again dominate her mind. "I assume her lasso works the same way?" the countess asked with an arrogant gleam in her eye. Stepping back she sprouted a wicked smile. "YOU'RE HORNY!" she ordered. Diana surged uncontrollable as the lasso compelled her to obey. Waves of sexual excitement rippled through her bound body as she softly moaned and cooed. "Never... thought of... doing this before..." Diana thought to herself wondering about all the other possibilities this could open up for her. The countess then walked over to the hypnotized Wonder Girl and gave her a horse's swat on the rear. "YA MULE!" she ordered and Wonder Girl began to trot along at a mild pace. The machine sprang to life as the mechanical arms began to move into place. Diana thrashed and wiggled frantically as the arms moved closer and closer to her unprotected body. To anyone else, running the treadmill would have been exhausting but having her magical belt on, Wonder Girl wasn't even breaking a sweat. The first things to go were Diana's breasts. The large suction cup attachments plunged down on her tits and sucked them inside, almost totally engulfing them.The cups began to squeeze and massage her tits, sucking and pressing them up and down in a rhythmic pumping fashion. She could feel her nipples being pinched and sucked as some sort of devious attachment inside acted like a mouth, gorging themselves on the massive glands. She shifted and twisted her chest in a vain attempt to shake off the mechanical molesters but her struggling only added to her stimulation as the implanted command from the lasso continued to pound away at her will. Suddenly, the room echoed with an enormous female scream of excitement and shock as Diana yelled out defiantly. A large, white dildo forcefully entered her defenseless vagina. Her hips thrust and wiggled violently against the forceful entry but the leather strap around her waist prevented her from moving about, restraining her struggles. The moaning and yelling continued as the large round phallic traveled deeper and deeper. Diana's head thrashed from side to side as the uncontrollable experience overwhelmed her. "CLIMAX!" the countess ordered. The fettered Wonder Woman let out the most erotic and sensual, moaning cry any of them ever heard. Diana climaxed hard and wildly as she was commanded to, and streams of lubricant poured down the dildo as she heavily discharged. The sound alone was incredibly exciting as the two men shifted their erections in their pants. Diana began panting and grunting as the dildo began sliding in and out, pumping her higher and higher toward another overwhelming climax. "Faster, faster!" ordered the countess to the obedient Drucella. The harnessed amazon stepped up her pace, switching to a quick jog. The machine responded by squeezing Diana's tits more violently and by pumping the dildo faster and faster. Diana thrashed and moaned uncontrollably as the relentless onslaught continued. Too overwhelmed to notice the activity behind her, Wonder Woman squealed a cry of shock as another phallic came from behind and inserted itself in her rear. She immediately clamped down hard on the ridged dildo with her plump buttock muscles but her efforts were to no avail as her anus was deeply penetrated. Every part of the heroine's body was now gyrating and thrusting in futile defiance as her vagina and her anus were both being penetrated and violated by this insidious machine. The machine made whirring and grinding noises as its raped victim thrust about in desperation. Then with a violent surge, Diana swelled upward and another climax claimed her. "BWAHAHAHAHAHA!" bellowed the countess. "Your moans and cries are music to my ear. It will be a pleasure destroying you! Now I want you to come again!" Without hesitation the buxom amazon exploded with another climax, yelling even deeper and louder than before. "My you are a moaner aren't you," teased the countess, "we'll just have to fix that. Gag HER!" One of the men walked up to the machine and produced a large leather bondage gag. He grabbed Diana's thrashing head and forced the mouth piece in place. He then wrapped the leather pad over her mouth and strapped it tightly to her head. Wonder Woman's cries were reduced to muffled moans and grunts as the machine's first dildo removed itself and a new, curved one slid forcefully into place. This new one was bad enough but the machine also slid another, smaller one underneath it, filling her with two phallics that both slide back and forth like the pistons on a steam locomotive. The ridged phallic in her rear also retracted and was replaced by a fatter, smooth one which sent her hips surging in erotic pain. As she gyrated helplessly, the countess continued to blurt out commands. "CLIMAX! CLIMAX! CLIMAX!" Again and again the bound and gagged heroine came. Helpless to resist, her will power grew weaker and weaker and the machine tore her down like a child knocking the blocks out from under a large toy tower. For what seemed like hours the two fought, machine against woman, the amazon climaxing again and again as her futile, gyrating wrestling match with her mechanical rapist feverishly continued. Suddenly, the countess gave her a new order, an order Diana was fearing and one she was helpless to resist. "SURRENDER TO ME!" slowly ordered the countess and with that the tower came tumbling down. The magic lasso blasted the order through every part of Wonder Woman's tortured mind and she cried out in futility. The climaxes, the bondage, the torture and the lasso were too much and nothing could save her. The bound and gagged super heroine surged upward one last time in a final death throw of resistance, but, like a soaring bird being shot down, she collapsed in defeat as the last climax blasted away her will power. Diana stared out into the distance, a hazy, hypnotic trance came over her eyes. The unthinkable had occurred. The great Wonder Woman was DOMINATED! The countess ordered Wonder Girl to stop and walked up to the motionless Wonder Woman. She removed the amazon's gag and stared into her hollow eyes. "You will obey me. I am your mistress. I own you and your will." softly spoke the countess. A long silence passed, then, slowly Diana opened her mouth. "I.... I... must obey.... You are the mistress." The countess jumped back and screamed in triumph. "I have WON! I have defeated the great Wonder Woman!" Then, looking back at her dominated foe she ordered Drucella to continue. "Enjoy my dear. You're going to be fucked like this FOREVER!" The machine continued to pound away at its defeated victim. Climax after climax again overwhelmed the helpless Wonder Woman and she soon fell unconscious, totally defeated, the last sounds being the triumphant laughter of her dominator, the countess. Diana's eyes slowly began to open. Her head swirled and throbbed as her dazed and numb body came to life. She did not struggle or even think to resist. Her will was broken and it would take a long time to gain it back. She was laying on her back, in a packing crate that was slightly larger than her dimensions. Her hands were tied behind her back with her own lasso. Her legs and feet were securely bound together and her naked body lay bound and tied with several coils of rope which looped dozens of times around her ankles, knees, thighs, waist and arms. Her mouth was covered with a medical oxygen mask which fully gagged her and prevented any noise or screaming. A hose ran from the base of the mask down her body and to a small tank of gas which sat in the crate next to her. Looking up she could see the countess through a thick haze of dizziness. Her eyelids rocked heavily and slowly as she fought to stay awake. "Ah, I see you're awake. Good." said the countess as she reached into the crate and caressed Diana's bare breast. "Its time for us to return to the Fatherland and we are taking you and Wonder Girl back with us." "Good night Wonder Woman. Get your rest. You will need it." and with that the countess reached down and turned the valve on the tank. Diana could hear a hollow whistling sound as the anesthetic gas coursed through the hose and filled her lungs. Her body wiggled slightly as the effects of the gas took affect. Slowly her eyes slid shut and the amazon fell asleep. The countess stepped away from the crate and turned the valve on Wonder Girl's canister, putting the naked young amazon to sleep as well. The dock workers then covered the crates with wooden lids and nailed them shut. "We are ready to depart my mistress." reported her man. "Good! Load our precious cargo on board and keep them asleep. They will make good breeding stock for the master race when we get back home." The men hoisted the crates on board and the countess slipped into the hatch and closed it. The sub blew its tanks and headed out to sea and headed for home with its kidnapped cargo on board.

Collections/LEXtext/WW/ww12b.txt

WONDER WOMAN VS. JACK THE TICKLER

"OOOH! UUUUUUNH!" moaned Wonder Woman as the titillator continued its course, fondling her breasts while the vibrators induced orgasm after orgasm in Wonder Woman's body. "OOOOOOOOH! OOOOOOOH! YES! YES!" exclaimed Wonder Woman as the titillator started to overload and short out. "What! What are you doing? You're overloading my machine!" roared Miss Millie angrily. Before Miss Millie could vent any more frustrations the machine reached critical mass, exploding and falling apart onto the floor. "Curse you! Curse you Wonder Woman!" angrily yelled Miss Millie as she removed the mini vibrators and robot hands from Wonder Woman's body. "Have you any idea how long I was planning your demise this way?! You overloaded my titillator! Have you no shame????!!!!" "Calm down, Miss Millie, you could use a nap right now." said a voice from behind as an ether soaked handkerchief covered Miss Millie's nose and mouth. Seconds later Millie was fast asleep in the arms of none other than JACK the TICKLER. "Oh, no!" winced Wonder Woman as she began struggling against the ropes. "Oh, yes! Twice in a row! I don't think I'll be able to practice any of my rope work on you at this rate!" smiled Jacklyn as she quickly tied Millie's hands behind her back and feet in a rapid hogtie, leaving her bound on the floor. "Tickle, tickle, tickle...." laughed Jacklyn as she started tickling Wonder Woman's breasts. "No! Stop! Please, whatever you do, don't tickle me with my golden belt!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "What a good idea!" replied Jacklyn as picked up Wonder Woman's belt, placing in her lap. With a sudden surge of super strength, Wonder Woman instantly broke the ropes that bound her hands. Grabbing her power belt, Wonder Woman began ripping off the ropes. Jacklyn slowly walked back in complete shock as Wonder Woman placed her bracelets back on her wrists. Jacklyn pulled out an automatic pistol and fired two bullets, which were easily deflected by Wonder Woman. Before Jacklyn could turn and run, Wonder Woman threw her magic lasso around her, restraining the British outlaw. "Who are you?" assertively said Wonder Woman as she used the compulsive force of the magic lasso. "My...name's....Jacklyn....Sterling.....I....was sent....to...kill....you.... by....the....Nazis....." replied Jacklyn. "What do you know about Fausta and her sister?" asked Wonder Woman. "I....don't...know...where....they are....but....they're....is....in...this. resort...." replied Jacklyn as she fell asleep under the effects of the magic lasso. Wonder Woman left Jacklyn asleep on the floor as she left the room, looking for the dreaded Vunderkinds. Soon after she left a woman dressed in a nurse uniform awakened Miss Millie and untied her. "Miss Millie, are you all right?" asked the woman. "Connie! I'm glad to see you! Have you freed Bonnie and Lonnie?" "Yes. But the front doorman said that he spotted the Ilsa and Shauna Vunderkind! They're here!" excitedly said Connie. "Excellent! We can neutralize Wonder Woman and turn in the Vunderkinds! I'll receive rewards from both of the Axis powers at once! Summon the guards, we must find them!" hastily said Miss Millie. "What about her?" asked Connie, pointing at Jacklyn. "Who cares! I never saw her before." replied Miss Millie as she left with Connie. Soon after Miss Millie left plotting her next strategem, a man dressed in black entered the room and awakened Jacklyn.

Chapter 3

Collections/LEXtext/WW/ww6.txt

Domination of WW 2C

With a massive surge of twisting and pumping, the two members began pushing in and out of her with an ever quickening pace. Diana couldn't resist any longer, and her hips swelled upward in undeniable climax. The two organs plunged in and out, faster and faster. Streams of white lubricant shot out between her cunt lips as the bloated penises plunged inward, forcing the liquid out. The members twisted about as they pounded mercilessly against the inside of her uterus, causing her lower stomach to bulge slightly with each plunge. Tighter and tighter she swelled like some over-inflated balloon as the irresistible sexual sensation brought her closer to her defeat. Then, the unthinkable, the unimaginable became reality. The two proboscises froze, stiffening for the inevitable as the plant reached its pinnacle. The stalks vibrated like two water pipes as the plant's alien seminal fluid slowly flowed up their lengths and toward their target. The creamy white liquid darkened the center of the stalks as the insidious substance traveled through the hollow tube that ran up their centers. The fluid flowed along their lengths, past her thighs and disappeared inside her vagina. As the substance reached the stiffened organs inside her, the two members swelled as they filled with the liquid. Like two water balloons they grew bigger and bigger, filling themselves with the alien fluid. Then, like toothpaste exploding from a tube, the plant's impregnating cum burst from the tips of the bloated organs and oozed into her defenseless womb. The organs twisted and curled, pumping like two fire hoses as they poured the creamy substance into her, covering the walls of her uterus and filling her with the plant's demonic seeds. This pushed Diana over the edge and sent her spiraling downward as the incredible climax almost tore her mind apart. Her body burst with sexual ecstasy as the overwhelming climax utterly devastated her will and forced her down screaming and moaning in defeat. Mammal fell to plant as her viney rapist penetrated her and ejaculated its seeds inside her. Wonder Woman collapsed in defeat, moaning and groaning erotically as the plant continued pumping away every last drop into her in hopes of mating and inseminating its prey. After several minutes, all the members retracted and rose above her stunned and prone body. Still pumping, they sprayed more of the viscous fluid over her naked body, soaking her from head to toe with the cum. Streams of it sprayed into her face, over her chest, onto her pelvis and over her legs as she was coated with the substance. "UUUUGHH!!!... Wha... Where... Got to get free..." she groggily moaned as she twisted about slowly. "What's it doing ..... GREAT HERA NO! NOT AGAIN!" she screamed. With a renewed vigor she again tried to get free but it was to no avail as the stalks moved back into place and began again to impregnate their helpless female host. Apparently they had failed the first time and were going to continue until they succeeded or they were spent. From the outside, the large, tubular pod rocked and bulged as the doomed Wonder Woman struggled in vain to escape. Another animalistic female cry broke the silence as the buxom amazon once again fell to her flowery rapist. The two dominatrix escorted the young, teen avenger into the countess's lab. Dru's hands were handcuffed and she had a leather, bondage gag firmly strapped over her mouth. She was wearing a small, pink bikini made of silk and it was held in place with several thin strands. The only wide pieces of material were the two triangular patches that just covered each nipple and a triangular piece that barely covered her vagina. Dru herself was basically beaten. She had spent the last several hours at the hands of her merciless, mechanical torturer and entertaining the two sadistic female dominators, and she now staggered along with a dazed and defeated gaze in her eyes. Her body was slack and limp, and she stumbled about like a stunned cow as Inga pulled her along with a leather leash and collar. Inga led Wonder Girl into the lab and stopped her in front of the countess. With a swat from a riding crop, she brought the teen to her knees and into a very submissive kneeling position with her head bowed down in obedience. "Good... GOOD... Your toy has done well to "tame" our little guest," smiled the countess as she leaned over and cupped the young girl's face with her hand. "Ya Mistress," replied Inga, "She is broken for now but her will is strong. Even now she is regaining her strength and becoming more resistive." "Yes but we like girls with spirit," chuckled the countess as she stared up at Inga. "They are much more fun to "play with"." All four women broke into a chorus of laughter, half laughing at the countess's comment and half laughing at the young, broken heroine at their feet. "To the table vit her!" barked the countess as she clapped her hands to drive her order home. The two dominatrix picked up the young girl by each arm and pulled her over toward a large, operating-style table. Suddenly, without warning, Drucella let out a blindingly fast roundhouse kick which connected squarely with the side of Gretchen's head. The redhead's hair sprayed about from the blow as the tall woman went staggering sideways and into a table. With the same fluid motion, Dru plowed into Inga and forced the dominatrix into a bookcase. With expert agility, she then grabbed the keys off the woman's belt and darted across the room like a wild gazelle. "Get HER! GET HER NOW!" screamed the countess as Dru worked her way into a corner and began unlocking her cuffs. Her chest rocked back and forth and she gritted her teeth intensely as she twisted the key about, trying to free herself. This made her look like some deranged bull with its head bent forward and shifting back and forth in anger as though it were going to charge at any moment. "C'mon kinder," taunted Inga, "Ve won't hurt you... at least not right away," she added, walking slowly and confidently toward the now free Wonder Girl. "OOOOO! I'm PISSED!" screamed Wonder Girl as she pulled the gag off and threw it to the floor. "You women are not FAIR!" she screamed, striking an aggressive pose and pointing an accusing finger at the four women who were now slowly encircling her. "Playing around is one thing but you... you... you NAZI have gone TOO FAR!" she continued protesting. "You almost did me in that room back there and now you're all going to PAY!" she continued, gritting her teeth in seething rage. "OOOOO... We're so scared," said all four women as they wiggled their fingers at the young, fiery avenger in an obvious attempt at sarcastic fear. "Well, if it's a fight you want... It's a fight you're going to get!" she exclaimed, bounding forward and plowing into the two dominatrix. The two women, not taking the whole thing seriously, were actually caught off guard and went crashing to the floor as Dru smashed her body into their knees with a diving tackle. The lab assistant rushed in and jumped toward the young girl only to find the swift teen not where she was five seconds earlier as Dru quickly rolled out of the way. The slightly stunned blonde came crashing down on top of the two dazed lesbians, sending them all back to the floor in a pile of legs, arms and hair. With blinding agility, Dru grabbed a nearby tarp and threw it on top of the twisting pile of cursing women, ensnaring them temporarily in the heavy brown cloth. "Remarkable!" noted the countess in a cold, almost scientific tone. "All that sexual punishment and you still have such spirit!" she continued. "Any normal woman would be a vegetable by now. You must have the constitution of a horse." "Well, at least I don't have the ASS of one," Dru said smirkingly, staring at the countess's rear. "How dare you, you little BRAT!" screamed the sneering woman. "I've got something that will really teach you a lesson!" she screamed. "I don't care about your little TOYS!" replied Dru, taking more of a relaxed stance and folding her arms over her chest. "I demand to know what you did with Wonder Woman!" "Oh she's none of your concern," answered the countess, taking on an unusually arrogant and relaxed tone. "I'd be more worried about my prissy little ass if I were you," she added. "Oh really, well we'll just see abo.... ummmmph!" started Dru, but before she could finish her sentence, her speech was cut short by a heavy, hard thump that rang through her ears. Dru reeled in pain as the blackjack came down over her head and she went swiftly to the floor like a nail slammed by a hammer. The countess's plan worked. She had kept the arrogant girl so busy arguing that Dru didn't notice the other three women getting out from under the tarp. "Quickly! Bring her here," the countess ordered, walking past the girl and toward a panel imbedded in the wall.As she pressed a few buttons, the three women picked up the groggy heroine and carried her to the panel. A low, clunking sound echoed throughout the room as the panel slid to one side and a vertical metal table rolled out from a recessed room. The table was made from shiny, cold steel and had several, heavy, leather restraints on it. The women picked up the groaning spitfire and placed her in the machine. After a few moments of strapping and binding, Dru was bound to the table with her arms spread out over her head and her legs spread apart, like a person strapped into a modern-day rack. Dru gasped as the bucket of cold water hit her bare skin and yanked her from her forced sleep. "Wake up, BITCH!" screamed Gretchen as the redhead slapped the young girl across the face to get her moving. "OOOOOMPH! Let me GO, then I'll teach you all a good lesson!" screamed Drucella as she yanked on the super-strong leather restraints in futile defiance. The young girl began twisting and gyrating about as she pulled and yanked on the straps. This, of course, was a very entertaining and very erotic show for the four ladies, who just stood and watched the teen wiggle about. The countess then stepped up to Dru and, with one quick yank, she ripped both the girl's bra and G-string off, relieving the young girl of any remaining protection. "Sorry for the rough treatment, sweetheart," the countess said sarcastically. "We've got to, how you say, soften you up a bit before we start with the 'process'," she said, running her hands lightly over Dru's bare and vulnerable breast. "Let me introduce you to 'The Stimulator'," she continued as she flipped a few more switches. The table began to hum, and Dru could feel some sort of mechanical activity behind her as she flipped her head back and forth frantically to get a look. The whir of motors and the sound of pulleys caused a series of mechanical arms to raise up and over the table and over Dru's ripe, jiggling body. "By HERA! What is this!" she exclaimed, staring curiously and nervously at the robotic arms in front of her. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough, Wonder SLUT!" blasted the countess as she threw the on switch with a brutal effort, as though she were using the switch to drive her point home. Two of the mechanical arms started down toward Dru's plump, sloshing breasts. As they got near her nipples, a series of very fine, soft filaments extended from the tips and bridged the distance to her skin. They then began to gingerly tickle her nipples and the area around them with soft, teasingly quick strokes. Dru rocked and twisted her upper chest as she attempted to move her breasts away from the feelers, but this only allowed the feelers to slide along the underside and curvature of her spherical breasts, causing more and more tender areas to be stimulated. The young girl began to coo and moan slightly as the light touch of the feather-like ticklers sent tingling sensations through her breasts and her skin. As she rolled and gyrated slowly, the other arms moved into place and began tickling the other erogenous parts of her tender, firm body. One set concentrated on her knees and full thighs, stroking and teasing the skin between her legs and sliding along the outside of her thighs with light, glancing strokes. Another set went to work on her pussy, sliding lightly over her firm, sensitive lips and dancing like soft feathers over her clitoris. The sensation of the filaments intertwining softly with her vaginal hair and caressing the tender skin between her thighs and her vagina was too overwhelming to bear. The rest of the ticklers went to work on other parts of her body, moving about like moths dancing about a flame. The arms also made sure they did not over-stimulate any one area, making unpredictable moves to new targets as they continued their onslaught. The feelers on her breasts, for instance, moved about their globular targets, finding more and more untouched and unprotected areas to tease and tickle. Soon Dru was slack and relaxed, and her head was rocking back as she moaned and groaned at the intense stimulation. She could feel her climax mounting as the teasers drew more and more of her will away from her. As she grew closer and closer, the feelers stepped up their pace, tickling faster and more mercilessly as they attacked her. But then, as she almost reached the pinnacle of her climax, the arms immediately backed off, leaving her without fulfillment. "Wha... NO! Please, Hera... You can't do this.." Dru moaned as she slowly settled back unsatisfied and so very tender. "Oh yes I can," answered the countess, making sure not to touch the teen for fear of bringing on her climax with but a single touch. "This machine will continue to stimulate you, but I'm afraid it just won't give you what you want most." she explained. "Don't worry, my dear, you'll be coming soon enough, but it will be when I need you to." "Come along, my dears," said the countess as she walked away from Wonder Girl. "I need some 'attending'," she said coyly as she put her arm around Gretchen and walked out the door. The other women followed, and the door slammed shut, sealing Drucella in the dungeon with her tormentor. "NO!" moaned Dru. "Don't leave me like this... UUUGHH! NO UUUGH!" but all the young girl could do was rock about and moan erotically as the machine continued to mindlessly toy with her ever-sensitizing body.Then, with a nimble twist, she turned herself over onto her stomach and she slid her shapely form down the tube. She stretched out her feet along the sides of the narrow hole and pressed her boots up against the rock until her feet came to rest on two rough protrusions along the sides of the shaft. At this point, she had sunk deep enough that her head was just below the lowest edge of the hole but, the shaft was too narrow and her wide shoulders and long arms prevented her from lowering her hands from over her head. This wasn't a problem for her since she knew she would have to climb back out again anyway when her unwelcome visitors had left. She simply let her arms fold in front of her as she peered out the natural window which looked out into the cavern. Just as she stopped moving, a group of 4 German soldiers came plodding into the cave, rifles hoisted and flashlights dancing about. "Where is that American BITCH!" one soldier exclaimed as he stopped and propped his rifle against a wall. "Yeah, she can't be too far ahead. I can't wait to get a hold of her," said another, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. "We're not allowed to harm the Wonder Woman. That is the countess's orders," barked another loyal guard. "Countess Schmountess," scoffed the first soldier, "here's what that countess bitch can do with her orders," he laughed, yanking his hand over his groin in an over-exaggerated jacking-off movement. "This is the master race?" Diana thought, listening to their incredibly juvenile and manly conversation. "Petty little men talking big," she whispered, scoffing at her unwanted visitors. As she continued listening, the insides of her thighs began to feel slightly itchy. Thinking it was some torn piece of costume rubbing lightly on her legs, she shifted her hips and thighs annoyingly to brush the material off. "Yeah, have you seen those breasts!" said one of the guards, holding his hands way out in front of his chest. The other men rolled their eyes at the thought of Diana's enormous endowment. "I bet they feel so good, so firm. Those American women are incredible!" another guard added, holding one hand up and making a squeezing gesture with it. "Damn! I wonder what's ripped now?" she whispered to herself as she kicked the annoying piece of whatever away with her left leg. Then, with a cold chill, Wonder Woman froze in shock. Something touched the underside of her vagina. She tried to look down, but her ample cleavage was an enormous blockade. "Huh!" she gasped as she felt it again. "Hera, there's something in here with me..." she cringed as she tried to remain absolutely still. "What I love is that ASS!" continued another guard. "You could grope that plump piece of butt for days," he added, making another clutching gesture. The four men broke out into laughter as they settled down and started to take out a canteen and pass it around. "No..." Diana winced as she heard them stop and sit down. "Go away, you idiots," she added, biting her lower lip and hopping about like some schoolgirl waiting impatiently to use the bathroom. "Hey, what the..." she whispered loudly, almost in an audible tone as she tried to twist around to see behind her. Luckily, the men were rather noisy, so her little outburst went unnoticed. Diana continued to grunt slightly as the unusual object below her pressed up into her vagina. Her costume prevented it from going inside, but whatever it was, it was making a good effort at entertaining itself. "What do you think the countess wants with her anyway?" asked a guard as he took a long drag from his cigarette. "I hear it's for breeding purposes," answered another. "Nein! Really?" asked the first. "Yeah, both the girl and the woman are slated to be mated with some of the countess's personally selected males," he continued. "Something to do with creating a master race." "I wouldn't mind having that job, eh?" laughed one of the guards as he held his hands out in front of himself and thrust his pelvis upward as though he were grasping some woman's hips. "Hey, Grudder, you should volunteer for that duty, seeing how you've got 8 kids at home," the first guard chuckled, slapping his knee. The other men began to join in the laughter as they watched the slightly blushing sergeant grin. "Yeah, every time I see Gretta, she is pregnant," another continued laughing. "Hera!" gasped Diana as she could feel the zipper on the back of her suit being pulled slowly down. Grunting and struggling, she tried to lower her arms down her sides to try and stop whatever it was that was undressing her, but her arms were too long. "I do know that brat Wonder Girl is getting it right now up in the countess's lab," continued the first guard. "Yeah, I know. I was on guard duty outside her cell when Inga and Gretchen paid her a visit," added the other guard. The other three leaned in closer as the young guard began describing in intricate detail what he heard from the cell. The cold stone walls of the tube sent more chills through Wonder Woman as her costume slipped down her legs and to her calves, and the soft, tan skin of her bare breasts touched the surrounding rocks. Listening to the plight of Dru added to Diana's distress as she heard how her younger sister was treated. "Oh, Dru," she whispered, sucking on her lower lip. "What did they do to you..." "Then they both mounted her with these huge vibrators, one from the front and one from the rear. I never saw a girl buck so much in my life," he continued as he told his erotic story to his now drooling buddies. "I have a daughter that looks her age," said another guard. "Sometimes I dream about her being in that cell with those two whores," he admitted. The fleshy tendrils were now wrapped all about Wonder Woman's wiggling hips and chest. They writhed about like snakes as they coiled around her thighs and legs. Several strands had worked their way up her sides and had wrapped themselves around her breasts, lassoing her large glands and rolling them about slowly like two watery sacks. "Ugh! No!" Diana gasped as she again felt the hard protrusion touch her vagina. "Oh, Hera, I can't go through this..." Suddenly, the hard penis pushed its way past her tightened vaginal lips and plunged itself up into her pussy. Diana reeled and thrust upward as the fleshy member slid deep inside her. "What about the Wonder Woman?" asked another guard of the first. "I want to know what happened to that BITCH!" "Well, that's the good part. The countess really hasn't had a chance to play with her yet since she escaped. She's fresh meat waiting to be fucked," he blasted, letting out a hellish laugh. "I do know they took some pictures of her all tied up. Some propaganda thing. I helped with the camera man," said one of the other guards. The long penis continued to slide in and out of Diana's defenseless vagina as she struggled in vain to resist her alien tormentor and to resist making any noise. The organ was uncontrollable and irresistible as it plunged inside again and again, like some relentless piston, between her quivering legs. All she could do was clench her teeth and pant softly as she continued to listen to the guards mock her and her sister. Then, her eyes bulged wide open as she felt her buttocks being parted and another member being pushed deep into her anus. "Ngh! Hera... I can't... ugh! stop it..." "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I've got to do what a man's got to do," grunted one of the guards as he stood up and unzipped his pants. Looking about a bit, he spied a convenient hole in the wall to perform his task. Diana continued to gasp as the two organs ruthlessly penetrated her pinned and helpless hips. She lay tense and prone in the tube as her body rocked up and down from the pounding she was receiving from below. Then, with a slack-jawed expression, she looked up just in time to have a stream of warm piss spray down like a small shower over her face. The salty liquid poured all over her face and into her gaping mouth. "Gawk! Ohhhhhh!" she cried silently as she spit the spray out and lowered her head to avoid the stream. The other three men continued to talk as they walked up to their pissing buddy. Then, like some unspoken club ritual, all four men began pissing into the dark hole. The urine continued to shower down on Diana as she tried to avoid the spray. Her intense penetration, however, continued to force her to gasp and moan, causing her to open her mouth and swallow bits of the horrid streams. "I don't believe this..." she gasped as she started to tighten. "I can't... I can't.... no NO!" she pleaded as her climax grew closer and closer. Then, her whole body began to swell, filling the tunnel completely, as every muscle in her body contracted. At the same time, the penises inside her started to stiffen as they readied themselves, swelling toward the inevitable. Then, with one last intense thrust, both proboscises plunged deep into her and discharged. This pushed Diana over the edge, and the amazon nearly exploded from the immeasurable climax. At that same moment, one of the men spit his wad of chewing tobacco into the hole. The gooey wad bounced off Diana's wet face and sprayed over her ample chest. The soft, brown spit rolled slowly over the curvature of her breasts as the goop dribbled down between her cleavage. The penises continued to pump their discharge into her, and she could feel the slippery substance oozing, like liquid soap, from her vagina and anus, down her thighs, and to her feet. "AAAAAUUUUUUGHHHHH!!!!!!"The three guards stopped and stared at each other as the erotic, female scream blasted outward from the hole in front of them. Then, one of the guards peered cautiously into the hole. The dark-haired, female form wiggling and panting could only be... "Vonder Voman! Well, what do we have here," he said, sprouting an insidious smile as he reached in the hole and grabbed the struggling amazon by her raised arms. The other men joined in and all four pulled the heroine free from her unknown rapist. The now naked Wonder Woman came rocketing out of the hole like a cork from a bottle, and all five went staggering backward as she piled on top of them. Almost as soon as she was free, the fiery femme-fatale started to bolt for the cave exit, but the guard that had pulled her free grabbed her about the waist and held her tight with his strong arms. "Let me GO! I command IT! Release me at ONCE, do you hear!" she screamed as she twisted about like a captured snake in the laughing guard's steel grip. "Whoa, what a spitfire," laughed the guard as he moved his left arm up across her upper chest and grabbed her right breast, using this new grip to pull her upper body back against his chest. Diana's head went back over his right shoulder, and her hair sprayed about wildly like tall grass in a violent hurricane as she continued to twist defiantly. As she continued to kick her long, shapely legs in all directions, another guard slid his hips between her thighs and grabbed her left leg with his right hand, holding her leg at a 90-degree angle and effectively pinning it. She tried to kick the soldier with her right leg, but his hips were too close to her body, and her leg only managed to slide high and close along his right side. Both her legs were now wrapped around the wickedly grinning guard's chubby waist, and all she could do was squeeze and twist her hips violently in an effort at resisting his advance. "I... don't believe... THIS!" she thought as she continued to struggle. She didn't know which was worse, staying in that hole with that THING or being at the mercy of these pigs. Either choice was a nightmare. The guard behind her continued to massage her huge tit as he enjoyed groping his wildly writhing captive. His callused hand squeezed the breast slowly and firmly, pinching the woman's hard nipple between his index and middle fingers as he teased it. His fingers squeezed the nipple and pulled it up and down as he pushed her ripe, firm gland in and around in huge orbits. Her breast bulged and stretched as it pressed up against her heaving chest and her other breast, forming erotic circular and oval shapes of succulent flesh as his hand massaged it wildly. He then held her firmly by his left hand and quickly pulled her right arm with his right hand behind her back, pinning her arm. Then he quickly reached down with his left hand and pulled her left elbow hard behind her back, forcing her chest and head forward as he did this. His right arm slipped around her right elbow and, grabbing her left elbow with his right hand, he pinned both her arms behind her back. All Diana could do was reach out helplessly with her hands, grasping fruitlessly at freedom. "Zo sweat and spirited," said the guard in front of her as he grabbed her by the back of her head and forced her to stare him straight in the eye. His comment was answered by a hefty spat that sprayed into his eyes and across his cheek. "OHHH! You are going to pay for that, you American BITCH!" he hissed, driving his threat home by pulling the hair on the back of her head even harder. Diana continued to grit her teeth and snarl as she stared back defiantly. The guard then pushed his hips in deeper as he pulled his penis from his boxers. Wonder Woman surged upward as she tried to use her hips and thighs to squeeze the soldier away from her. The guard grabbed her plump buttocks and pushed closer, aiming his cock with his hand as he gained each inch. "AAAAAAGHHHH!!!!!!!! NNNOOOOO!!!!" she screamed like some wild, erotic animal as the disgusting guard's member pushed hard into her pussy and started its intense penetration. His enlarged penis forced its way slow and hard past her tight and defiant lips as she tried to resist his irresistible advance. This caused her hips to soar upward and roll from side to side as the cock slid deeper and deeper inside her. Then, with an erotic, female grunt, her hips slumped back against the guard behind her as the cock was fully inserted and her rapist's hips pressed hard against hers. She gyrated and moaned as he slowly pumped his pelvis forward, rubbing his lower stomach over her already sensitive clitoris. As she hissed and moaned, the guard behind her reached up and pulled her head back against his shoulder. Then he began making light circular orbits with his finger over her full, red lips, teasing her mouth with his fingers. "I think maybe this mouth was meant for something else besides kissing," he mocked, letting out a chuckle. Diana spat and snarled at the thought and thrashed her head from side to side as she tried to avoid his fingers. "Here, let me get some of that," said a third guard as he walked up to her right side and grabbed her right breast hard with both his hands. He started to violently massage the tit, clutching and squeezing it relentlessly as he played with it. Then, like some half-starved animal, he barreled down on it, sucking her ripe nipple into his mouth. In a wild, feeding frenzy, he began sucking and milking the defenseless heroine's tit, ruthlessly pushing it hard against her chest as he tried to suck her dry. The fourth guard decided the left breast needed the same attention, and he joined in, violently molesting her other bare tit. Diana began screaming and twisting about as the four men continued to rape her. The man fucking her also began stroking her firm, bare thighs, sliding his hands slowly over the soft, tan skin under her thighs and running them over her plump and jiggling rear. His hands cupped her buttocks, squeezing and massaging them as he continued pumping hard and viciously into her. "I vant something special," said the guard behind her as he reached down and pulled out his penis with his bare hand. Pulling hard on her arms, he forced the thrusting woman's hips down toward his own, and with his free hand, he guided his hardened cock into her bucking ass. "NO! STOP!... NOT THAT!" Diana screamed as the penis parted her buttocks and pushed into her anus. "UUUUGHH!!! OH HERA!!!" she screamed defiantly as her hips shot upward with the sensation. "God, what an ASS!" panted the guard as he continued to pound his cock home. "Ya, what an amazing FUCK!" replied the other guard as he groaned and pushed harder into the resistive female. Diana began to feel the sensation of being penetrated as the waves of erotic stimulation poured like chilling water over her tingling skin. She couldn't help but moan and groan as the two men stepped up their rhythmic pounding. The erotic sounds of this amazing amazon, cooing and wailing began to drive the four men wild with passion. The guards started to increase their rhythm, raping the helpless heroine harder and faster as the woman grew nearer to climax. Her hips were now almost perpendicular to the ground as she thrust upward, growing prone with the intense sensation. They rolled and swayed slowly about as the penetration continued, and the guard could see his cock sliding in and out of her wet pussy as he looked down on his lunging prey. Then, the inescapable began to build. Her panting and moaning grew quicker and quicker as the climax grew nearer and nearer. Her large hips bucked and thrust faster and faster as she soared higher and higher. The men responded by stimulating her more intensely with each surge. Clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Diana grew wet with tears as the sensation pushed her uncontrollable toward the edge. Then, with one last defiant surge, the doomed heroine tightened inexorably toward her fate. "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGH!!!!" "UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGHHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGH!" "NOOOOOOAUUUAUGHGHGGHH!" The caverns echoed with Wonder Woman's erotic cry of release as yet another climax claimed her. The men were driven mad by the incredible female cry of sexual release, and both men exploded, thrusting and pushing mindlessly into the taken heroine. Almost as soon as they finished their intense climax, Wonder Woman began fighting again, pushing and twisting to escape. Driven by uncontrollable sexual urges, the four men pulled the gyrating woman to the ground and piled on top of her. The guard behind her slipped out from underneath her and pulled her flailing arms up over her head, pinning her punching hands to the dirt. The man in front pulled himself free and was instantly replaced by one of the guards on her side. The new man slid in place and pushed his cock hard into her twisting hips as he began mounting the buxom amazon. As she stared up at her four attackers, Diana thought about her sister and how she must be receiving the same, ruthless treatment. This enraged the femme-fatale, and she continued to fight her sadistic tormentors as they again began molesting her. The fourth guard then pulled his pants completely off and straddled the woman's chest. She gasped in horror as the man sat down on her huge chest and slid his hips down toward her face. With his left hand, he grabbed the woman's thrashing head and pulled it forward toward him. At the same time, he guided his penis into her soft, gasping mouth. "UUUGLP! NO.,.. MMMMBLM!"Diana could only moan and grunt as the cock forced its way past her plump, red lips and deep into her throat. Driven by the intense sexual sensations being forced on her, Diana instinctively began sucking the member as she submitted to its encroachment. The four men now formed a pile on the floor as they massed the slowly gyrating heroine. Wonder Woman moaned and groaned softly and deeply as her rape mercilessly continued. After several minutes of pushing and pumping, the horrid orgy began again to swell as everyone reached their pinnacle. Diana grunted and gulped harshly and sporadically as the combination of her climax and the guard's discharge in her mouth forced her to gasp and swallow deeply. The other guard finished his climax, pumping away slowly as he completely relieved himself. After the men were satiated, the two penetrating her, stood up and loomed over the heroine's naked and fucked body. Diana could only roll about slowly as the sensation of being penetrated made her groggy with sexual stimuli. As she groaned defiantly, the guard holding her arms, flipped the dazed woman on her stomach and pulled out a long strip of leather. He pulled her long arms behind her back and tightly tied her hands together at the wrist. He then used another strap to tie her elbows tightly together, rendering her arms useless. The woman was then sat on her knees. Her head was held with a firm grasp as the guard's hand clenched the thick hair on the back of her head. "You know what to do," he said in a low, intense voice as he stared into the heroine's dull and heavy eyes and pulled his penis toward her mouth. Without resistance, Wonder Woman began sucking the man's hard cock and she settled down into a mindless state of entertaining her tormentors. As soon as the first rapist was done, the next took his place, then the next. Soon, all four men were satiated and they started to get dressed and gather their supplies. Diana sat on her knees in an almost hypnotic trance with her eyes heavily shut and her jaw open and slack as though she were half asleep. Streams of cum ran down over her chin and her neck as she quivered helplessly. Her trance was rudely broken, however, as a balled up wad of cloth was shoved into her mouth. She responded by twisting her head about but this was a futile effort at best. A thick, heavy terry towel came down over her mouth and the gag was tied in place behind her head, holding the cloth ball in her mouth and preventing her from forcing it out. One of the guards then removed his belt and looped it around her long, delicate neck. He then buckled it tight, making a makeshift collar for his captive. He then took a long piece of rope and tied it to the buckle, leashing the now defeated and captured avenger. "You vere very good. Now that's vat a woman was meant for," said the guard as he grabbed Wonder Woman's bound body and pulled her close to him. "Ya, and this is just the start," said another as he pushed the woman forward down the passage by her ass. Diana trotted along for a few steps and then struggled and moaned as they continued pushing her along with their convincing gun butts. Wonder Woman staggered along for what seemed like a half hour as they neared the exit to the catacombs. Her incredible physique had already allowed her to regain some of her will and she was now resisting her captors as they pushed her along. Suddenly, she was blinded by the intense rays of the midday sun as she was pushed from a doorway into the castle's main courtyard. The courtyard was huge and was made into a makeshift bivouac for the contingent of soldiers that were stationed there. Several rows of tents, trucks, crates and other military equipment lined the walls of the grounds. Several dozen men were hanging about doing things such as cooking, cleaning equipment and relaxing. As the buxom heroine emerged from the tunnel, the men stopped with their daily activities and stared in gaping awe at the incredible woman walking out into the courtyard. Dozens of cat-calls and whistles followed her as she was forcefully escorted toward the center of the grounds. Then, with a heavy thrust from a gun butt to her legs, Diana was forced to kneel down in front of the main building. The squad of about 40 to 50 men began forming a circle around the woman like a bunch of sharks smelling blood and readying themselves for a feeding frenzy. They bustled about anxiously and all Diana could do was stare forward intensely and rebelliously as she listened to their lewd comments and insulting jokes. "We're going to fuck that bitch good." "What a set of jugs!" "I bet that American bitch could do us all, the SLUT!" "Hey whore, I've got a mark. How about a good time!" With that last comment, Diana sprang to her feet and rushed the part of the crowd the comment came from. With a wild kick, she took a shot at one of the men only to have her bare leg grabbed and her body pushed hard to the ground. The men began massing the woman, picking her wiggling body up over their heads and holding her up with dozens of groping hands. Their hands were everywhere as they grabbed her breasts, legs, buttocks, face, hair and pussy. Diana screamed wildly under her gag as she could feel several fingers being pushed inside her vagina. Suddenly, the wild crowd was silenced by a single gunshot. The entire crowd turned and stared at a balcony window that overlooked the courtyard. Diana stared in utter despise at the countess as the woman sauntered toward the rail. "The Wonder Woman is not to be touched!" she ordered harshly. "Any man who accosts her will be punished SEVERELY!" she added. The four men who had just finished entertaining themselves with the avenger, looked at each other sheepishly and gave each other a look that said, "Nothing happened, it was those things in the cave." The men knew how harsh the countess's punishments were and they did not want to face her wrath. "Sergeant!" she screamed. A burly man stepped forward and gave the woman a Nazi salute. "Yes mine Mistress," he answered. "I vant the captive cleaned up. Bring her to my room to be cleaned and fed, then bring her to my lab," she ordered. She then raised the Luger and fired four shots into the crowd. Each shot was deadly accurate and the four men that had captured Wonder Woman slumped down dead at the heroine's feet. "And I do mean UNTOUCHED!" she screamed. The rest of the crowd stepped away from Wonder Woman and the sergeant stared in fear at the four dead soldiers. "At once mine Mistress," he replied with a gulp. "You men, get her and follow me," he ordered, waving his hand at a few, scared privates. The men rushed up and grabbed the heroine's leash. Hurriedly they forced the woman along through a set of heavy, oak doors, up several flights of stairs and down a few corridors. They then came to a stop at the countess's bedroom. The sergeant knocked on the double oak door and waited as it slowly opened. The countess stood in the doorway. Her body was relaxed and incredibly erotic as she stood wearing a sheer, see-through teddy and panties. She stood leaning sexy against the door giving Diana a warm but evil stare. Diana stood straight, with her hips to one side and one leg slightly bent as she stared forward in defiance, refusing to look at the countess. She was a prisoner and she was not about to surrender. "Vell, I can see you're no worse for wear," the countess said coyly as she caressed Diana's bare breast. "You men can go!" she ordered, waving her hand at the already fleeing guards. The countess then circled behind Diana and gently removed her gag. Diana responded by wetting her lips and wiggling her jaw lightly to get the circulation going. "Whatever you have planned, I'm not about to let you win!" Diana said sternly as she continued to stare forward. "Oh, I don't expect you to," the countess replied. "It's much more...fun this way," she added. "By the way, I have something I owe you." "Something she owes me?" Diana thought as her gaze started to shift to her side. "What could..." but then her eyes widened as she remembered what she did to the countess in the lab. Almost at the same time, a cotton pad came down over her nose and mouth and the heroine began to scream in resistance. The countess continued to hold the anesthetic in place as Wonder Woman struggled against it. Her body squirmed about under the countess's powerful grasp and she moaned erotically as the drug drained her will. The days' events and the harsh experiences she had just gone through were too taxing, however, and Wonder Woman began to yield. Almost wanting to sleep from exhaustion, Diana let the fumes drain her spirit and put her to sleep.The countess then pushed the chloroformed amazon forward into the bedroom and watched as her lax, muscular body slumped to the rug. At that moment, the stiletto booted legs of Gretchen and Inga walked up from inside the bedroom and stood over Diana. "Give her a bath," the countess ordered softly as she gave the two dominatrices a wicked, evil grin.

Part 5 of 9

Collections/LEXtext/WW/ww13c.txt

Mr. X

Batgirl and Catwoman [Rape, Bondage]

CLUNK! The dish dropped another inch. The two exhausted heroines sprang back to life as they again tried to bring on yet another climax. "I can't take much more of this!" Catwoman mumbled desperately from underneath Batgirl. "I'm about ready to pass out!" "Me too," Batgirl replied wearily. "We've got to escape, but how?" Both girls could hear the bubbling of the deadly acid below them as they feverishly tried to think of anyway to escape. Suddenly, Catwoman squeezed Batgirl tightly and froze. "What Catwoman! Don't pass out!" Batgirl screamed fearing the harsh skin treatment she was going to receive if Catwoman lost consciousness. "No. I'm not beaten yet," Selena replied, "there, across the room." she said rolling both girls over so Batgirl could have a look. There, sitting on a window sill licking its paws in anticipation of a fish dinner, was a blonde hared tabby. It sat looking in curiosity at the two unusual fish laying on the disposal dish. "A cat!" Batgirl cried out spraying Catwoman's lubricant with a heavy breathe of shock. "What the hell are you getting excited about a cat for!" she cried. "Just hold still!" Catwoman replied harshly squeezing the small of Batgirl's back so tight that she was unable to barely breath let alone move. Selena stared over Barbara's rear into the cat's eyes and for a moment the two didn't move, woman and cat staring long and deep into each other's eyes. The plate began dropping at a regular pace now. Barbara sprang to life in wiggling desperation as she tried to continue in a futile attempt at stopping the winch again. Selena, however, continued to hold the frantic heroine firmly, completely ignoring the winch's downward progress. The sounds of the acid grew louder and louder as the plate grew closer to the pool. Then, Barbara froze in shear terror as she heard the sizzle of the acid as it made contact with the underside of the plate. It was only seconds now before she would die a horrible, painful death. Suddenly, the tabby sprang to life and leapt off the window sill, jumping almost halfway to the tank in a single leap. Then, like some driven jungle cat it bolted across the floor and jumped up the metal staircase to the winch controls. Sitting there for just a moment it looked curiously at the controls, cocking its head sideways in slight confusion. It then reached up with both paws and leaned all its weight on the winch lever, pulling it completely down. The machine made a loud clunking sound and the plate shook to a stop. Then the machine made a series of loud hissing sounds as various pistons let out their air pressure and the plate raised back up, over the side of the tank and was set back down safely on the ground. The two girls quickly rolled off the plate and onto the cold cement floor. Barbara, seeing a puddle of fresh, hissing acid near her, leaned her hands out and dipped her ropes in the tiny pool. After a few moments, the acid burned her ropes through and the two girls were free. "How did you... what happened... how did that cat...?" Barbara stammered in utter confusion as she finished removing the ropes tied around her legs and waist. Selena took Barbara by the chin and looked her deep in the eye. "They don't call me Catwoman for nothing." she said in a deep, calm, sultry voice, sprouting a wicked, sinful grin. Both girls stood up slowly, never breaking eye contact. Selena's hand slowly guided Barbara, by her chin, to her feet. Both girls were scared to death. They stood, facing each other, shivering from both the cold, stone floor and from the massive amounts of adrenaline that was coursing through their veins. Both of their naked, wet bodies were covered with a thick, shimmery film of sweat from the experience and from utter physical exhaustion. Selena's firm grip softened and she slowly slide her hand over Barbara's soft, girlish cheek. She gently caressed her cheek, moving her hand back and forth, barely touching the surface of Barbara's skin. Barbara stood staring back at Selena, her lower lip quivering slightly from the excitement. She raised her hand and slide her fingers tenderly over Selena's left nipple, touching it just enough to move the nipple slightly as each of her fingers made contact. She then moved her hand slowly down the curvature of Selena's large breast and gently slid her fingers along its underside, lightly stroking Selena's skin with slow and sensual tickles. Selena surged slightly as a wave of warmth flowed up her back and across her shoulders. Her muscles sank as the sensation slowly relaxed her, making her feel pleasantly calm. Her tense face softened and she closed her eyelids as she let the feeling encompass her. With her free hand, Selena reached over and slowly placed her middle finger under Barbara's bare nipple. With extreme care and delicacy, she slid her finger around the underside of Barbara's nipple, lightly tickling it, moving it ever so gently in a semi circular fashion. Barbara's eyes slowly closed as she too surged with the sensation. Her nipples grew hard and erect as the sensation swept across her weary, naked body like a wave of warm water across a sun drenched beach. Her head curled back and her lips opened slightly as her mouth slowly relaxed. Selena took a small step forward, moving close enough so the bottom of her breasts lightly touched the top of Barbara's. At the same time, she softly slide her hand around Barbara's waist and placed it firmly, but gently against the small of the young girl's back. Barbara arched her back slightly as she opened her eyes with a gentle shock. Selena lowered her head and stared deeply into the young girl's heavy, light brown eyes. For a long moment both women stared into each others pupils, looking long and deep into each other's hearts and feeling the waves of sexual emotions that both girls shared. It was as though both were surrounded by some magical bubble which separated them from the rest of the world and brought them into their own private universe. Moving slowly and carefully, Selena lowered her face and turned her head to one side as she cautiously brought her lips close to Barbara's. Barbara lowered her eyes as she innocently watched Selena's mouth grow closer and closer to hers. Not realizing she had moved her own arms, Barbara's hands had slowly curled around Selena, her one hand slightly touching Selena's back under her arm and the other reaching over the amazon's shoulder and lightly touching her auburn black hair. Barbara could feel Selena's warm gentle breath on her lips as her mouth grew nearer. A wave of heavy, dull warmth flowed through Barbara as Selena made contact. She gently rocked her head ever so slightly, softly rubbing Barbara's lower lip with her own. The two girls began moving their heads slowly in a slight circular motion, tenderly touching and teasing the other's mouth with the light, gentle touch of the other's soft, dry lips. Selena then drew in Barbara's lower lip with her lips, gently grabbing it and giving it a soft kiss, so soft that it barely moved Barbara's mouth. At first the innocent girl didn't respond, her mouth remained relaxed and motionless. Selena then moved her mouth over Barbara's lips so that her lips rested just against the girl's mouth. She then gave the young girl a slight kiss, barely touching her lips with her own. Again Barbara didn't respond. Another gentle kiss followed. This time, Barbara moved her lips slightly in response. Selena pressed a little harder and kissed again. Barbara responded by tilting her head softly forward and pressing her lips against Selena's.Both girls drew each other close and they slowly kissed each other long, warm and tenderly. Barbara had never experienced anything like this before. Of course, the previous few days' events had put her through a heavy array of intense sexual encounters, but this was different, unexpected, almost forbidden in nature. In one soft, sensual gesture, Selena had opened Barbara's eyes to a truly warm and wonderful hidden secret inside herself and, at the same time, had brought her true feelings about her own sexuality to the surface. She had never known she had compassion for or even cared about being with another woman, but now the feelings she had were so honest, so right. The two girls embraced each other tightly and they began to heavily kiss each other, their hands gliding gently over each others' bare backs and shoulders. Selena then raised her head and cupped Barbara's cheek with her hand. With her other hand, she pushed on the small of Barbara's back and guided her toward the bedroom where Selena had originally been tied up and taken advantage of. Batgirl sauntered into the room and, without hesitation, slowly crawled onto the large, king-sized bed and sat with her legs curled to one side, staring innocently and sensually at Catwoman. Selena quietly shut the door and walked over to a table that sat against the bedroom wall, never breaking eye contact with the young heroine as she traveled across the room. On the table were several strips of black, silk cloth, the same strips that were used to bind and gag Selena earlier. Picking one up, she slowly walked toward Barbara, wrapping the ends of the cloth around each of her own hands and pulling it tight with a slight snap. Barbara's shoulders sank and her eyes closed heavily as she leaned forward submissively toward Selena. The dark-haired amazon then sat down on the side of the bed next to her. Selena set the cloth across Barbara's bare thigh and reached out with both hands, placing them gently on the young girl's shoulders. Slowly and lightly, she ran her hands down Barbara's arms, pulling Barbara's arms together and crossing her hands in front of her. Barbara's heart sank low and heavy in her chest as a wave of sexual anticipation rushed through her. This was too good to be true. This woman knew how to touch her, knew how to tease her, knew her every sexual fantasy. She was like an open book, bare and exposed to the world, and this wild, erotic woman knew how to read every word. Selena tied Barbara's hands together in a snug but gentle knot. Grabbing the girl by her crossed hands and lowering her down with her other arm, Selena lay Barbara on her back and pulled her arms over her head. Using the remainder of the cloth, she tied the young girl's hands to the bed post, securing her safely in place. After a few moments, Selena raised another cloth and slowly lowered it over Barbara's face. She pressed it firmly over the girl's eyes and wrapped it around her head, tying and blindfolding the young heroine. Selena then leaned over Barbara and looked deep and long at her young, innocent and beautiful face. Slowly and teasingly, she again began to nip and kiss Barbara's wet, full lips. Both girls exchanged kiss after kiss, losing themselves in the experience. After several long, passionate exchanges, Selena raised her head slightly and looked down at Barbara's bare breasts. Looking back at the young girl, she sprouted a pleasing smile as she ran her hand slowly and softly over Barbara's bare shoulders and down over her firm, ripe breast. Her fingers danced lightly on the girl's delicate skin as they stroked the area around her erect nipple, making slow, gentle circles around it. Then, using the fingernail on her middle finger, Selena lightly flicked Barbara's ripe nipple, causing it to shift ever so slightly. Barbara moaned at the unexpected but pleasant feeling. Using all three fingers, she then began to gently tickle the underside of Barbara's breast, teasing and taunting her nipple with an occasional flick or bump, never pressing hard enough to shift or move the breast or to cause its shape to change. Barbara's chest surged slowly and she let out a soft, light moan as she tried to move her breast closer to the stimulation. Selena quickly moved her hand backward, making sure not to let the helpless girl get more than just a tease. Her fingers danced about on the surface of the young heroine's tight, soft skin like a hovering mosquito floating over a nice, juicy meal, never landing but teasing the girl with the anticipation of taking a ravenous bite. Batgirl's chest rocked gently from side to side and her thighs slowly rubbed together as the sensation and anticipation began to build. When was she going to strike? When will her breast be taken? Now! Now! But the teasing continued, relentlessly, mercilessly with the amazon stopping just long enough to allow the sensation to settle and not to allow it to become repetitive or numb. Stroke after stroke, tickle after light tickle. It was as though each breast was growing more tender and ripe, ready to burst at any moment. Barbara began twisting and breathing heavily as she writhed in agony, hoping for some kind of release. Her sensations were then compounded as one of Selena's warm, gentle hands moved slowly over her bare, flat stomach and toward her unprotected vagina. At first, she felt nothing. Her body began to settle down as the tingling in her breasts continued. "What was she doing?" Barbara thought "What could she be up..." but no sooner did she question Selena's activities then she tensed and surged in excitement. Barbara let out a slight moan as Selena slowly touched the inside of her bare thigh and slowly slid her fingers gently along the smooth skin between her legs. Her hips rocked and twisted gently as the amazon lightly teased Barbara with her fingers, slowly running her hand closer and closer then back away from her vagina. As she did this, Selena also leaned over Barbara's chest and began slowly teasing her tender, ripe nipple again. She ran her nose over it lightly and nipped at it slowly and softly with her dry, full lips, making sure not to move it too much or to let Barbara get any release from the tension. BAM! Both girls froze in terror as the door to the fish factory burst open and the sounds of several men echoed through the hallways. "Damn!" Batgirl exclaimed as she untied herself and popped up off the bed. "We've got to get out of here," said Catwoman, helping Batgirl up, "If we're lucky, they'll think we dissolved in the acid." The two girls grabbed their costumes off the dresser and headed for the large, factory-style windows that lined one side of the makeshift bedroom. After a few frustrating moments of climbing out a window while trying to get dressed, they scurried down the alley and to safety. Back at Catwoman's lair, the two costumed heroines sat about, contemplating their last encounter with the three villains. "Do you think anyone noticed us coming here?" asked Batgirl naively. "Oh no," Catwoman replied, shaking her head sarcastically, "That cabby who picked us up and all those people in the street would never have noticed two, half-dressed women wearing masks and costumes." "Yeah, I guess you're right," said Batgirl, giving herself a slight pop in the head with her hand. "I was wondering what all those Japanese tourists were taking pictures of." "Well, good thing I checked with da... I mean Commissioner Gordon," said Batgirl. "He told me the Riddler left a riddle at the museum where you were kidnapped." "Oh great," replied Catwoman, rolling her eyes in disgust, "Another damn riddle. You'd think the idiot was crazy or something. What kind of loon goes parading around in a costume doing goofy things like that!" she said angrily. Barbara looked over the note sideways at Catwoman, who was sitting in her white, bikini costume and mask, and raised an eyebrow, shooting her a judgmental look. Catwoman looked down at herself and nodded her head in disgust. "OK, OK FINE! Let's hear the stupid thing." "It's a two-parter, so listen carefully," Barbara explained, squinting at the note. She wasn't used to reading without her glasses, but wearing a pair now would be just as revealing as Superman wearing his Clark Kent glasses. "Everything is as light as me but I fall as fast as a cannonball... What am I?" "Hmm..." said Catwoman, almost going into a coma as her mind went to work solving the riddle. Barbara could swear she could see little birdies circling the dark-haired avenger's head as all the woman's mental efforts strained at dealing with the mind-numbing poser. "It's a feather!" Batgirl said knowingly as she gave Catwoman a slight swat on the arm. "You are such an airhead!" "Yeah, well... that one was too simple. It threw me for a second. What's the next one!" she yelled, shooting Barbara a disgusted look. "OK," Barbara said, perking up like a spoiled schoolgirl, "People spend their lives getting rid of me yet, in the end, they become me after all." "Pssss... that's easy!" said Catwoman, waving her hand at the note, "Shit!" "SHIT?" asked the surprised Batgirl. "Yeah, SHIT! People are always getting rid of it, but when you die, you're in deep shit," the buxom brunette said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms in front of her, sprouting a smile of absolute pride. "The Riddler's riddles also go together, TIT BRAIN!" scolded Batgirl. "Feather... Shit... Feather Shit... I don't think so," she said snootily. "I think the correct answer is DUST. We always try and get rid of dust, but we become dust when we die. Also, feather and dust go together as in feather duster." "Oh yeah, MIZZZZZ Smarty pants... or shorts... or thong or whatever that is..."and with that Catwoman stomped over to a desk and snatched the phone book. She slammed it down on the table and began flipping pages. Then, sitting back, she sprouted another smile of accomplishment. "There!" she blasted, slamming her point home with her finger as she pointed to the phone book. Barbara leaned over and stared at the entry at the tip of Catwoman's finger. There, between 'Feataccini's Noodle Factory' and 'Featwhyler's Feet and Foot Fetish Emporium', was an entry for 'FeatherShitte Manufacturing'. "DOH!" blurted Batgirl as she slapped her hand over her forehead and shook her head in disgust. "I should have realized," Batgirl whispered as both women stood on an adjacent roof top staring down at the large factory. "the abandoned FeatherShitte Feather Duster Factory on Falling Feather Lane." "God what a name," said Catwoman. "It's almost like someone thought it up for some lame kiddies show or something." "Well if that's the case," Barbara replied, "we are two very hard up, desperate actresses working a dead end career job. I mean get real, what kind of BIMBO would dress like this just to get an acting job." she finished. Both girls looked at each other for a long moment and then shook their heads in an attempt at rubbing out the absurd idea. "Not me. The last thing I want to do is end up as a down and out, overweight, out of work has-been who has to resort to doing Star Trek episodes to make ends meet," replied Catwoman. "You said it! Let's split up," Batgirl said. "I'll go through that side door down there and you make your way around back and see if you can get in." "Sounds good to me," said Catwoman and she bounded off into the darkness over the roof tops toward the other side of the huge building. It wasn't hard for Barbara to gain entry to the old building. The factory used the old standard set of locks so the police could gain easy access using a pass key. Of course it does pay being the commissioner's daughter and it was very easy to make a duplicate of his key for just such emergencies. The factory area she had entered was a maze of thin walled offices lit by streams of gray, blue light that dimly flowed in from several factory style windows that faced the dull street lights outside. Slowly she sauntered through the eerie darkness. After several moments, she made her way down what she thought was the main hallway that led to the factory floor. Suddenly, from two open doorways on each side of her, two dark figures plowed into her hips and legs, wrapping their arms around her bare thighs and calves. As she twisted and struggled, a third figure came up from behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist. At the same time, the other arm came up and clapped a small rectangular pad of cloth over her nose and mouth. Barbara's eyes burst open in panic as the fumes of the anesthetic invaded her defenseless lungs. She screamed and cried but her yells were muffled by the chloroform soaked cotton wad. The three men pulled the gyrating heroine to the ground and held her as the darkness enveloped her and she slipped unconscious.

Rape, Bondage

Part 4

Collections/LEXtext/BatGirl/Batgirl4.txt

"Statutory" Rape

"Statutory rape" is when a person has sex with someone under the "age of consent" for a particular state. In some states, this is as old as 18, and in some as young as 12. Even if the young person WANTS to have sex, unless he or she somehow manages to get married to the older person, it will be just as bad for him (or her) as if the older person actually forced the younger one to have sex. This may not be fair; especially as the laws and rules change from state to state, and the "child" is right on the ragged edge of being "legal" but it IS the law! When the child is under 12, it's always illegal; even if (s)he's old enough to have children; and even if (s)he HAS had children already. When the child is even younger. . . . The man in the story knew all this. George Morgan looked up at the moaning sound coming from the next room. The couch was arranged in the living-room, so that his gaze went directly into the bedroom not 10 feet away. Sometime in the night, the door had come ajar, and he could see most of his granddaughter's bed, without even moving his head more than necessary to lift it from the pillow where he was sleeping. His daughter-in-law had made up kind of a bed on the couch while he spent the two weeks of vacation time visiting his son's family. Until right now though, he hadn't realized how he could see into the little girl's bedroom so easily. George felt himself getting a hard-on, at the very thought; though at first he chided himself for having nasty thoughts about his own granddaughters. Only it was hard to feel guilty, after watching the three girls all day long in the micro-mini "kinderslut" outfits that seemed to be all the rage for little girls to wear these days. His son and wife had taken the opportunity of picking him up at the airport to go shopping in the city; and one of the main things they had done was buy new clothing for their three children, George hadn't even realized that people MADE clothes like that for little girls; while it had seemed that sexy clothes designed to make innocent little girls look like they all WANTED horny old men to shove thick fat pricks up inside their tight little holes, was almost the only style of clothing available for girls these days. This was bad enough with Darlene and Melinda; who at 10 and 12 were developing tits and nicely rounded hips and fannies. It was hard to believe that dress designers made the same type of "pre-teen nympho" outfits for first-graders though. Still, after seeing little Kimmy try on outfit after outfit that had padding and shape to make even her older sisters' skimpy clothing look almost demure, George began to be convinced. Thus he had to sit and watch, while the kids tried on one sexy outfit after another, until both they and their mother were satisfied that it fit perfectly, and looked "good enough" that the other kids at school wouldn't tease the kids for being too "stodgy". 1 To make matter worse; several times one or the other of his cute granddaughters had decided to sit in "Grandpa's" lap, while her sister (or sisters) tried on some other outfits. Not one of them seemed to notice his growing erection; even when one of her sisters came out from the dressing-room in just panties to get another outfit from their mother to try on. Then, to top the whole thing off, he had ridden the whole 40 miles back from the city, in the back seat of the car, with little Kimmy sitting on his lap, because the car only had two seats in front, and three in the rear. The knowledge that the little girl only had a soft pair of cotton panties under her short skirt; separating her little cunny from the prick that was almost poking a hole in HIS pants, was incredibly erotic. Thank goodness the little girl hadn't said anything; even when his erection became obvious. Kimmy had just shifted position, until the bulge in her grandfather's prick fit a little more comfortably between her legs, and hadn't said a word. She HAD tended to shift back and forth a little more often than seemed to be necessary for the bumpy road though. By the time they got to his son's house, the front of George's pants were soaking wet, and he wondered if all of it was from what leaked out of his prick. He didn't DARE feel the little girl up though, to see if her panties were as wet as his. It was bad enough to have felt the little girl's skin against his, all the way home. Remembering this, the man's prick grew so hard it almost ached. George was tempted to jack-off; though he didn't want to wake the little girl sleeping in the next room, or to shock her by seeing her grandfather's fat prick squirting white sticky stuff all over his hands. For a moment, George was almost tempted to go in the little girl's bedroom, and see if she objected to him crawling into bed with her. "Geeze," he wondered at his own thoughts. "What kind of pervert am I getting to be? The little kid's only seven years old, for Christ's sake. Now if it was her big sisters. . . ." George halted that line of thought, before he squirted sperm all over the sheets without even touching himself. At 10 and 12 years old, the Kimmy's two older sisters WERE definitely at the stage of life that could be called, "nubile." They were not only "jailbait" like their little sister, but with their swelling bosoms and hips, it was obvious that the two kids would soon have to either stop wearing such outfits, or their mother would have to put them on the pill, as two such delectable creatures would have all the boys (and men, George reminded himself) trying to get in their cute little panties. And if they kept on flaunting themselves like that, George was sure that at least SOME of those who tried, would succeed. God, how he wished he was young enough to be one of the lucky ones! Even though 52 wasn't really all THAT old, George knew that to cute little girls like these, he would seem to be FAR too old for sexual fun-and-games. Still, HE could dream, couldn't he? The moan that had awakened him earlier, was repeated. 2 Now George could see most of the little girl's bed, without even moving his head. To his surprise, most of the little girl's blankets seemed to have been kicked-off during the night, and he could see two bare legs, the hint of a cunny-mound, and bare skin almost up to the child's chest, before the door blocked his view. Damn! His little granddaughter slept in the nude! George's groan almost echoed the one he had heard earlier. Still, it WAS getting colder; even though it wasn't even really fall yet. George got up to cover the little girl up, so she wouldn't freeze. That's all he intended to do. (Oh, OK . . . So he figured he might sneak a peek at the little girl while he did. George was NOT planning on molesting his own granddaughter. At least, not then.) Only when he reached the little girl's bedroom, and saw what was going on, he could no more have covered her up and gone back to bed, than he could have lifted the whole house with one hand. Once he got inside the door, George was frozen in place at the erotic sight. His little "innocent" 7-year-old granddaughter Kimmy, was spread out naked on the bed, with two fingers sliding in and out of her tiny little slit, while she masturbated herself in her sleep! SOMEBODY must have taught the little girl about the pleasures of masturbation extremely well, for her to be doing it in her dreams. Most little girls didn't start having erotic dreams like that until they were as old as the little girl's sisters, Darlene and Melinda. Whatever. Maybe it HAD been one of her sisters who taught her. In any case, her grandfather could no more have done anything to make the little girl stop, than he could have un-taught her how much fun it was. His own prick was leaking pre-cum and possibly even some sperm at the very thought of how this little girl seemed to already enjoy sex, at an age when HE hadn't even known there was such a thing. Since standing there in only underpants, and a raging hard-on wasn't THAT much less obscene than being naked, and he felt he just HAD to get his prick out far enough to "handle" it, (like the little girl was "handling HER problem") George just stepped out of them, instead of letting his prick poke through the hole in the front. He knew he was going to get in trouble for this, but by now all sanity had left him. The outfits, the teasing, the feel of little-girl sitting on his lap, and finally the sight of his own granddaughter masturbating in her sleep, was too much for him. George was going to jack-off too; and in the nastiest way possible, by squirting thick white cum all over the little girl when SHE came. He could only hope the feel of cum splattering on her bare body didn't wake the child up. Once he had cum, George figured he could surreptitiously wipe the little girl up, under the excuse he was just pulling the covers back over her body, if she awoke when he did.If he didn't get away with it, then he didn't. George was too horny to care all that much. It wasn't HIS fault that the little girl had been teasing him, ever since he met her when he got off the plane. Carefully, George timed his strokes to the (by now almost frantic) hip-bumps of his horny little granddaughter. George wanted to cum at the same time the little girl did, and had moved closer to the bed, so he could squirt his sperm all over the little girl when she came. He knew it would probably be safest, if he just squirted it on her tummy, but George couldn't resist the temptation; and aimed his prick right where the little girl's hand was working almost frantically now. The thought of Kimmy cumming while he did, and working his sperm up inside her body with her own fingers was too much to resist. Almost there . . . almost . . . almost! George felt the tingling in his prick that he knew presaged his squirting thick white sperm all over his granddaughter's body. Gritting his teeth, he held back; but not before at least one tiny drop of cum oozed in a thick white drop from the tip; before dropping wetly on the elbow of the child straining on the bed. It may have been that. Or, it might have been the cool breeze blowing across the bedroom, or the hint that somebody else was in the bedroom with her, or even the fact that she had been straining; trying to reach orgasm; for over ten minutes, that woke the little girl up. It might have been any of these things, or all of them, or none of them. What mattered, is that she DID wake up. Kimmy Morgan looked up from her bed, at the old man staring at her. She didn't seem to be shocked that her grandfather was as naked as she was; with a truly magnificent erection in his hand; oozing yet another thick white drop of the same stuff that had dripped on her elbow. The little girl was still half-asleep; and still half in her dream, where she was about to get fucked for the first time. This was almost like her dream. "Are you going to fuck me, Grandpa?" she asked; spreading her legs in an open invitation. Only a saint could have resisted; and George was no saint. "Uhuh," he said; climbing on the bed; and getting between the little girl's legs. If she had objected, or even indicated that she was surprised at what he was doing, it probably would have been enough to shock some sense into the older man, but she didn't. Kimmy just spread her legs even wider; as if it was normal for a man to climb into bed with his seven year old granddaughter and stick his cum-dribbling prick right up inside her cute little body. "Oh," she said, "I thought so." Kimmy seemed more interested than shocked or even aroused by the thought of her grandfather putting the thing he peed out of, inside the part of her body SHE peed out of. George, on the other hand, was too involved in trying NOT to ejaculate, before he got inside the little girl, to pay much attention to anything else. As it was, he had barely placed the tip of his prick NEAR the little girl's opening, when a thick white jet spurted involuntarily out of his prick; right across the child's vagina in an obscene "splat." It was only by gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, that George managed to keep from letting the little girl have all the rest of the sperm rumbling in his balls, without even getting inside her. When he opened them again, somehow having regained control, George saw his granddaughter looking at the white streak that dribbled into her open hole, and across her firm white tummy. "Is that your sperm?" she asked; dipping a finger in the white goo, before rubbing it on her swollen clitty. "It looks sticky. Are you going to put it inside me?" George was barely able to groan in answer; pushing his prick up against the child's hole by way of response. He knew that if he DIDN'T get inside the little girl fairly quickly, then he would NOT be fucking her that night, as his sperm would be all over the outside of the child's tummy, instead of inside her where it belonged. To come THIS close to fucking his granddaughter, without actually getting inside her, would be far worse punishment than anything her parents would do to him for actually fucking the little girl. Especially, when Kimmy seemed to want it, almost as much as he did. "Oooohh!" said both incestuous lovers at once; as the head of the older man's prick slipped inside the tiny little hole between the child's legs. It was only the incredible tightness making him almost have to force each inch of oversized (for a little girl anyway) prick into the child, that kept George from cumming the second he got inside her. Kimmy, on the other hand, was both aroused by the fact that someone was finally sticking his cock in her tiny little unused hole, and slightly uncomfortable at feeling something that huge go inside her; where nothing bigger than her fingers had ever been before. "Oh," she grunted; then grunted again, "Oh. that hurts a little." Still, she didn't ask her grandfather to stop. George wasn't about to stop anyway. By now, only hearing his little granddaughter screaming with pain, would have made his prick shrink enough to make him want to pull out. He WAS going to fuck the little girl now, whether she wanted to or not. Only AFTER he had filled the child with his sperm, would George be able to think rationally about the consequences of his raping his own granddaughter. By golly, it sure didn't FEEL like rape; though when he finished his mind would remind him that would be what people called it, no matter HOW much the little girl wanted it. "Ow!" said Kimmy, when her grandfather's prick had vanished almost halfway inside her. That hurt! "Oh." George looked down at the juncture of their two bodies. A little over three inches had disappeared into the little girl's body, while almost the same amount remained outside. He knew he could cum easily, with just the amount he had inside her. The feeling of the child's vagina squeezing on even half of his prick, was better than anything he had felt in years. George knew he didn't have to break the child's virginity, if she didn't want to lose it. Just being inside her THIS far, was better than being all the way up inside most women. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked. Both occupants of the be knew he didn't mean stop fucking, but stop from breaking the little girl's virginity. "No," said Kimmy; wincing a little when she pushed back at her older lover. "But why does it have to hurt?" She didn't pull away though; even when she felt her insides stretch almost to the tearing point. "It HAS to hurt, the first time," pointed out George. "I've got to break your 'cherry', if I'm going to get all the way up inside you." "Oh," said Kimmy; then, "Oh!" as there was a ripping sensation, and her grandfather's prick vanished into her body, on a film of her secretions, his pre-cum, and the ejaculate already spilled inside her. "Oh," she remarked again, "that smarts." The two incestuous lovers looked down where the 52-year-old man's thick prick vanished into the obscenely stretched little cunny of the 7-year-old girl. "It doesn't hurt so much now Grandpa," said Kimmy. "Can we fuck now?" Well, George tried. The man slid his prick out about three inches, then back inside his little lover. Kimmy only winced slightly, when he did this. Only the feeling of his little granddaughters' tight little cunny squeezing and milking on his prick was too much for the older man, while the slight pain of her lost virginity was enough to steal her rising orgasm from his younger partner. George began squirting and jerking inside the little girl, while his prick spasmed out of control; filling the child's womb for the first time with jet after thick white jet of a man's potent seed. This would not be the last time, for little Kimmy though. Kimmy felt her grandfather stiffen; as his sliding in and out of her vagina suddenly became slicker. Then George almost collapsed on top of the little girl, while his swollen prick slowly shrank inside her. "Oh shit!" The sudden exclamation was echoed by both parties. George said it because he finally realized what he had done; now that his prick wasn't doing all his thinking for him. He had just raped his own granddaughter; actually fucking the little 7-year-old, and squirting his sperm right up in the child's womb. Kimmy, on the other hand, had just realized that her grandfather was finished fucking; while she was still teetering on the edge of her orgasm. "Oh, why did you stop?" she said; almost crying on her grandfather's shoulders. At first, George thought the little girl was crying for her lost innocence or virginity, before he heard her pleas about "not stopping." Well, the old man might be a child-rapist, but he was NOT unfeeling. His wife had taught him YEARS before, that it just wasn't NICE to leave a woman hanging. So George did his best (which was pretty good for a little girl). Using his fingers to stroke the little girl's clitty; rubbing white greasy cum up and down the swollen nub, he soon had the child bucking and squirming underneath him, while she finally reached the climax she had been working for, for over an hour. "Thanks, Grandpa," she said, when it finally became obvious to both of them that she was satisfied. "Can we do it again, tomorrow?" George only sighed. He knew that by tomorrow he would be in jail; being fingerprinted and getting ready to spend most of the rest of his life there.Still, it had almost been worth it. At least he didn't have to feel guilty about hurting the little girl, if she was wanting him to do it again. Also, he didn't have to worry about her getting pregnant; unlike the chance he would have been taking if it had been one of her older sisters that he had chosen to seduce (only it had felt a lot more like Kimmy was seducing him). Of course, SOME people figured it was worse to be fucking someone as young as Kimmy, no matter HOW much she wanted it, than to fuck one of her older sisters and actually get the girl pregnant. "Old enough to bleed, is old enough to breed," went the old saw. George sighed. At least Kimmy was too young to have to worry about that; and there wasn't any point to making the little girl worry about the other. "If I'm still here, and you still want to," he replied. At least, he wasn't lying that way. George snuggled up to the little girl, and pulled the covers over both of them. If he was going to jail the next day, he figured he might as well enjoy sleeping with the child at least once. For sure he'd never get another chance. It was after 2:00 in the morning, when George had to get up and go pee. On looking at his couch, then looking at the little girl's bedroom next to the bathroom, he looked back and forth between the two a long time, before making a decision. George figured there was no way he would be able to hide what he had done the night before; raping his own granddaughter in her own bed, while her parents and two older sisters slept right down the hall. If nothing else, the child's bloody sheets would give him away; even if he could convince Kimmy to not tell anyone. Besides, George may have been a child-raping pervert, but he was NOT going to frighten his granddaughter, and try to keep her from telling the truth about what he had done. Since he couldn't hide it, and he figured the child would probably tell her parents in the morning, George figured he might as well spend the night with the little girl, since she didn't seem to mind; and his ass would be grass in the morning. Why try to hide what everybody would eventually know anyway? So George slipped back into bed with the little girl; pulling the blankets up over both of them. Kimmy seemed to have a penchant for kicking off her covers, even on cool night like this. (After all, isn't that what had gotten him into trouble in the first place?) George found it hard to sleep; thinking bout the troubles he'd face in the morning. People are just not NICE to dirty old men who rape little girls (OK . . . so it wasn't really "rape". Statutory rape carried the same penalties). Rape or not, people (especially people in prison) are not nice to men who fuck little girls. Besides his worries keeping him awake, the soft breathing and slight movements of the child's body lying naked in bed next to him were incredibly sensual. So, in spite of his worries about what people might say in the morning, George found himself getting aroused again. He couldn't help it. It was either that, or get out of bed, and go back to his lonely couch. Ten minutes after returning to the child's bedroom, George found himself with another erection, as he snuggled up to the sleeping little girl. George didn't want to wake his granddaughter up; he figured he had disturbed her sleep enough for one night. On the other hand; there was something he had always wanted to do; and (considering what would happen tomorrow) he probably would never get the chance to do again. . . . Sliding down about six inches in the bed, George moved his body so his pre-cum dribbling prick was right next to the sleeping child's vagina, that was still oozing sperm from when he had cum inside her earlier that night. Then, swabbing his prick in the ooze, he inched it up inside the little girl. George was fucking his granddaughter in her sleep. There was only a slight shudder from the child, as his swollen member slid past her torn virginity. Then the old man was buried to the hilt in the child's body. God, did it feel good inside there. For over five minutes, George simply rested with his prick being massaged by the length of the child's tight little tunnel. Then, he slowly began sliding in and out. At first, it was only a half-inch or so. Then it got longer and longer, until he was sliding half, then almost all of his thick prick in and out of the little girl. Faster and faster he went. This time George was going to enjoy a nice LONG screw; not being so oversexed from not having a "piece" for over three years. George was finally getting close again, when his jerking and sliding inside her woke Kimmy up. "Grandpa?" she asked; pushing back each time the older man's thick prick slid inside her, "are you fucking me?" "Uhuh. Do you like it?" George didn't slow down his thrusts to wait for her answer. If Kimmy DIDN'T like it, she'd just have to wait until he ejaculated inside her anyway. Since he was going to be put away for statutory-rape, George figured he wouldn't get much worse for the real thing. Besides, Kimmy hadn't objected to anything he had done yet. She didn't now. "Uhuh," the little girl replied; pushing her body back at her grandfather, almost as hard as he was jabbing into her. "It feels real good, Grandpa, I . . . I . . . Ieeeeek!" With a little shriek, that lifted the man's hair on his head, the little girl began jerking and thrashing alongside him, while her already incredibly tight little tunnel began squeezing on his prick in an unmistakable manner. George hadn't even known that little 7-year-old girls could climax previous to tonight, and even seeing the child masturbating, or getting off on his fingers hadn't prepared him for feeling the little girl cum with his prick inside her. Even if he had known, George would have figured that he would cum first, as he had been sliding his swollen prick in and out of the child for over half an hour. George grit his teeth, and rode right through the child's orgasm. He figured he owed it to Kimmy, after "blowing his cool" inside her earlier. Only when she finally slowed down, and her incredibly tight squeezes on his prick eased to just the gentle clamping of a little girl, did the man start stroking for HIS climax. Only Kimmy wasn't finished! Feeling her grandfather's prick swelling inside her, as he prepared to shoot even more life-giving sperm inside her, caused the child to climax again! George felt his granddaughter's hole clamp down on his prick right while a thick gob of cum was rippling through the tube on the bottom. Then again, and yet again! George had NEVER felt anything like it. He felt as though the feeling of the little girl climaxing around his prick made him squirt more sperm inside the child than he would have believed he had available for six or even seven lovemaking sessions. And Kimmy kept right up with him! The little girl had never HAD multiple orgasms before; always working herself off on her fingers, until she came once. Feeling her grandfather spasm inside her, with his thick prick filling up her cunny hole so well, made the little girl cum like she hadn't know she could. By the time her grandfather's thick prick stopped belching her tummy full of incestuous cum, the little girl Had not one, not two, but THREE enormous climaxes, with her own grandfather filling her tiny little womb with baby-making cum. And each one of those mind-boggling climaxes had been bigger than any she had ever felt on her own fingers. Kimmy didn't know how she was EVER going to get along, once her grandfather had to go home from his vacation. She'd just have to ask her parents for help. "Ooooh, thank you!" both incestuous lovers said at once, then giggled at hearing their response in real-time. Later that night, George DID managed to fuck his granddaughter in her sleep; as having four big climaxes had left the child too sleepy to wake up; even when her grandfather started squirting a third helping of incestuous cum in her welcoming young womb. That time, George just went to sleep with the covers pulled over both of them, and his prick still leaking thick white cum in his granddaughter's belly. Tomorrow was coming, and he might as well get what rest he could. After finally cumming three times in his sexy little granddaughter, George felt that any punishment he got would be well worth the pleasure he had just received. Later he might not feel this way; but for now, George was content. They could only hang him once; and he wouldn't have missed this night for anything. The next morning Marie passed her daughters' bedrooms; yelling into each of them, "Breakfast in 20 minutes! Anyone not dressed and bathed, doesn't get any!" The woman never seemed to notice that the lump in her youngest daughter's bed was much bigger than would usually be made by a 7 year old little girl. She seemed to think that her father-in-law was in the bathroom, where actually one of the older girls was already taking a shower. "That goes for you too, Pops," she yelled at the closed door; before heading back into the kitchen. Peeking out of the covers at his escape, George looked until the beautiful woman vanished into the kitchen, then hurriedly scrambled into the living-room to pick up his scattered clothes, and head for the bathroom. He didn't realize that he was going in there completely naked, until his oldest granddaughter came out in a similar condition.The 12-year-old, surprisingly, wasn't even embarrassed at coming from the shower naked, and meeting her grandfather on the way in, in the same condition. When George got out of the shower, and finished shaving, he found that Kimmy's room, like that of her two sisters, and even the couch, had been stripped of bedding, and the washing machine was making rumbling noises in the basement. Somehow he had managed to escape; as his daughter-in-law had NOT noticed the stains on her little girl's bedding. Or at least if she had, Marie hadn't said a word. Perhaps, she thought the sheets had come from one of her older daughter's bedroom, by the time she got them downstairs, and just figured one of the girls was having her period or something. Perhaps. Somehow George had gotten off Scott-free. He should have known better. Of course, he didn't know about Kimmy's "problem"; figuring that the little girl wouldn't want to get her grandfather in trouble; especially after enjoying what they had done together so much. Only that WAS Kimmy's problem. She didn't want to get her grandfather in trouble; she just wanted to keep ON doing what they did the previous night, even AFTER her grandfather's vacation was up. Since the old man hadn't acted as if there was anything wrong, or even unusual about a 50+ year old man climbing in bed with a 7 year old little girl and fucking her, not 20 feet from her parents' bedroom, the child never even suspected that it could cause trouble if anyone found out. And George never thought to warn her. Heck, her grandfather had so expected to be caught, that he never even suspected that telling Kimmy or not would make any difference. Now it was too late. "Momma, Grandpa fucked me last night." The little girl's voice was as matter-of-fact as if she was announcing that it had rained the night before. George almost choked on his coffee. "This was it," he figured, "Goodbye comfort; hello jail." Only Marie didn't seem to have understood her daughter. "That's nice," she said; bending over to get a bigger pot. "Did you have fun?" "Uhuh, Grandpa fucked me real good." "Oh. Well go eat now; we'll talk about it later." Marie kept right on fussing with the breakfast cereal, just as if her daughter had been telling her about some doll she played with. George couldn't believe it. Marie somehow had misunderstood her little girl, and he had once again somehow escaped the axe. Now if he could only warn Kimmy NOT to repeat what she had just said after breakfast, then he just MIGHT be able to spend the rest of his life in happy retirement, instead of in jail as a child-raping pedophile. The little girl sure didn't LOOK like a child who had just been raped by her own grandfather. For the next 20 minutes, not much more was said besides, "Pass the butter," or similar requests. It was only after breakfast was dying down, and George, Mike, and Marie were all sitting around enjoying a last cup of coffee, that conversation opened up. And that conversation was mostly about crops, prices, and other items of interest to a farming community. It wasn't until a break in the conversation, when nobody else seemed to have anything to say, that Kimmy spoke up again; loudly this time, to get her siblings attention, as well as that of her father. "Grandpa fucked me last night," she repeated proudly. "That's nice," said Mike, sipping coffee from behind his newspaper. For a second, George though his son had misunderstood his daughter, just like the little girl's mother had seemed to earlier. Only the man's next words showed that both he AND his wife had heard the little girl the first time. "Did he cum inside you?" he asked. Oh shit. George figured he was dead. "Uhuh," said Kimmy proudly. "Grandpa fucked me REAL good. He came in me three times last night." Here George had thought the little girl was sleeping, the third time he fucked her. Well, maybe she had just waken up enough to know her grandfather was cumming inside her, and then went back to sleep when she realized what it was. "Well, I suppose if your father is going to be sleeping in Kimmy's room, we don't need to make up the couch again tonight, do we?" observed Marie. Mike just grunted agreement; and kept on reading the paper. "Now just because your Grandpa is sleeping in YOUR room, I don't want you hogging your grandfather to yourself," instructed Marie. "Your sisters are going to want to fuck him too, now that they both know that you are. So I don't want you to be a pig; just because Grandpa George fucked you first. OK?" "Yes Momma." The woman turned her eyes on her other two offspring. "And that goes for both of you horny sluts as well," she said. "Just because you're both older, having periods, and might want to have your grandfather get you pregnant, doesn't mean either of you two can monopolize your grandfather either. Since Kimmy was the one who first got him started by fucking her, it wouldn't be fair if you didn't let your little sister have your grandfather in bed with her, just as much as either of you two do." "Yes Mother." The almost identical sighs of the 10 and 12 year old girls showed that Darlene and Melinda had been planning on doing just that. George never DID go home from his vacation.

An Erotic Story

Collections/SirSnuffHorrid/FrankMcCoy/statrape.txt

The Shopping Channel

"Watching the fuckster huckster channel again, Dear?" asked Mike, walking into the room and sliding into the couch next to the young woman. "It's not a fuckster huckster channel, Daddy. You just say it to aggravate me." Which was true. Mike actually had nothing against the sales network, and in fact loved the idea of shopping at home for products that would help parents and children show their love for each other in the best way possible, by fucking and knocking each other up. "Of course I do, baby... I only wish we'd had this back when I was spraying cum up MY mom's womb for two years running, trying to make you. You have any idea how awkward it was, by the last few months, actually buying ovulation detection kits, because chance had not worked out?" "...And our next item is the wonderful *Tammy-Marlow(tm)* series of children's maternity clothes, Dan." "Oh yes, Diane, these are gorgeous. Folks, you've seen these on all your kids' little girlfriends at school..." "Hey, look, Daddy, that's what the kids have been pestering us to get them for a month!" Joan said, calling Mike's attention to the program. "Hmm... let's watch and see if they have any designs we haven't got so far: That darn children's and young misses' department at the Mall Stores haven't had any new ones since those idiots picketed them. Do you realize how hard it is to get decent maternity clothes for a nine-year-old, even these days?" Mike was upset that the merchants had caved in to the groups that protested the sale of the children's maternity clothes. Didn't they read the papers? Girls were going to school wearing lace bras with no blouses, making out openly with their own brothers in the schoolyard, even a City Councilman had gone ahead and signed on the line as "father" when his kid had a baby, yet some people did not want kids to have suitable maternity wear. Unbelievable. "... schoolteacher in Akron who actually paid 150 bucks to a girl for the *Tammy(tm)* blouse off her back, even though it barely covered the woman's tits -- well, the Family Values Network has something more for you all." "That's right, Dan. Now you've all heard that the original *Tammy(tm)* blouse, that says in big black-on-gold letters the ambiguous _Daddy's_Darling_Daughter_ right over the belly, was being reissued -- well, that's not all. A whole new line called _Tammy-wear_ is coming, and get this: There's now *Adult*Female* and also *Boys'* _Tammy-wear_" "Wow, Daddy," Joan said as some of the first of the girls walked on camera. "And we thought I was young when you first shot your wad in me at eleven! This girl must have started fucking by eight!" "Well, Kristin wanted me to go all the way with her at five, remember? They just grow up quicker these days, I guess." As they spoke, the very, VERY pregnant nine-year-old proudly strutted for the cameras in a cute little maternity dress, lacy shoulder details, and matching hair-bows. The dress stopped at mid-thigh and upon close inspection you could see it was slit all the way to the armpits, and you could tell the little girl was wearing *nothing* underneath. Following her, was a perhaps early-teen Asian girl, wearing an outrageous swimsuit. In the back it was just crisscrossing strings from her neck down the crack of her ass. In the front, the crotch fabric stopped barely above her clit, then two strings went around the sides of her middle-term belly, joining the strings crossing the back, then crossing around and over her swollen breasts where two patches covered the nipple itself but not the aureole, before crossing again around her neck. . "...after trying fruitlessly to seduce *any* male in her family for four years -- what's wrong with these guys? she's a babe! -- thirteen year old Tamoko, daughter of our sound mixer Mrs. Nakagawa, wore this hot little number to a family reunion and snagged not one but *three* uncles who *thought* they were 'raping' her. Now it's available in adult sizes too, and Mrs. Nakagawa is thinking of getting one of her own, see if any of her sons or nephews will turn 'rapist' on her. Hey, Tamoko... you gonna test for who's the father?" Tamoko shook her head and smiled. "Didn't think so...Dan?" "Thanks, Diane... next, our own ten-year-old Suzy, due in a few weeks to deliver twin girls that I'll be fucking before another decade goes by, looking very scholarly..." The cute blonde wore a private-school girl's plaid skirt and vest, but the skirt was cut to fit a truly huge ninth-month-twins belly; was so short that when she walked her ass and pussy were exposed for all to see that THIS little girl knew panties belong in the trash. She held her books, schoolgirl-fashion, pressed to her chest. "...but why do you hold your books before you? Oh, I see..." Suzy lowered her books, revealing a pink T-shirt boldly proclaiming MEET MY LITTLE SISTER across her tits in red, with a large arrow pointing to her bulging belly. "Now that would have made a fine outfit for you all through high school," Mike said, checking out the cute youngster. Meanwhile the phone numbers of the Network were scrolling by the bottom of the screen. "Do you think we should buy some of this stuff?Joan asked her father-brother-husband "The kids *have* been insisting..." "I dunno... feels kind of funny getting it for them when they're not pregnant, y'know?" Oddly, neither Joan nor any of the girls were pregnant at this time. Mike had been a busy guy: he had impregnated their common mother with Joan when he was 13 and she was 28. In the 11 years before he started fucking Joan he had two more girls with his mother, and a boy with an aunt. But Joan was his pride and joy. She had almost begged him to fuck her when she was barely 11. Since then he had fathered (besides four kids in his other two sister-daughters) five of Joan's six children: Janice, now 16; June, now 14; Jason, now 13; Kirstin, now 11; and May, now 9 (baby Chrissie was Jason's idea of last year's Mother's Day gift) and was thinking about having a couple more with her. He was also father of two of Janice's three children (Jason, again), both of June's two, and Kirstin and May's one apiece. With five of the household's 13 children, plus both parents, in childbearing age, non-pregnancy was rare at the Whites'. "Easiest thing in the world to get them expecting again. . . Janice would love to have one more before leaving for college. And Jason is only too eager to help" "Heh, heh... I can hear you..." "And now we have our prop manager Shauna Johnson's boys, showing us some of the new boys' _Tammy-wear_" Three adorable boys with dark curly hair strode down the runway. "You know, Dan, each of these boys is the son of a different brother of Shauna's. Jerry's twelve, Donny's ten and Danny's nine." Danny was wearing a t-shirt with "Future Mother-Fuckers Of America" in fluorescent bold script, over a drawing of a young boy humping an older woman. Donny's had a computer-generated nude picture of his mother, which you could tell because above it were the words "This is where I came out of" and a long arrow pointing at her pussy, and below it was: "And one day my cum will make my own kid there," with an arrow pointing at the same spot. 4 Jerry's outrageous outfit included patches on each side of his jeans' fly that read: "For Mothers and Sisters Use Only," a vest with fake award badges for "Mother-fucking" "Knocking Up Sisters" "Highest Sperm Count"; and a t-shirt that read "Yeah, the kid's mine -- So what?". All 3 had a baseball cap with the *Tammy-Marlow(tm)* logo: a picture of a cherubic little pigtailed girl in only her white panties, with a huge pregnant belly, superimposed on a stencil "T". "Diane, those phones are ringing off the hook... definitely this is hot stuff for all the millions of parents and kids out there who are fucking their folks, and having babies. Folks, let me remind you: Out there in the schools, the bluenoses have all but given up; and a kid now can proclaim to the four winds not only that she fucks, but that she's knocked up and even that incest is the way to go. There are private schools where parents have put pressure to let the girls go topless as long as they wear a short school-colors skirt. There are major corporations where a fucking break is now as much of a right as a coffee break. The highest rated network-TV show today: "The Life of Suzy Jenkins. . . 10-year-old" is about an incestuous family. This is the current wave, and your kids will want to be on top of it." "Yeah, right," said Mike. "Buy the stuff or your kids will be unpopular. Big Deal!" "You know how important it is for them, Daddy," Joan replied. "Well, if they *are* pregnant that's proof enough that they get the right kind of loving: The kind that begins with gobs of white stuff in a little girl's womb, and becomes a big belly later." The man was starting to get turned on by the discussion. "Dan, we're now going to take a look at some of our adult size _Tammy-wear_. Now, here are Maria, Juanita, Kate, and Sandy, three of our secretaries over at billing, all of whom are bearing a son's baby in their bellies." Dark Maria Juanita, red-headed Kate and tanned, blonde Sandy strutted their stuff: Sandy was wearing what looked like a huge, huge t-shirt, which over the belly area had the cute saying: "At least MY kid did NOT flunk Sex-Ed." Kate had what seemed like a striped knit top, but on close-up you could see the stripes were really lines of graffiti-styled text, that said: "My son fucked me" "This is my kid's kid" "Knocked-up by a son" "My boy got back in where he came out of" "Mama's good fuckin'" "SON for SON" and other such phrases. Maria Juanita's long dress was one big line-drawing print of an orgy in which all the pairings were adult-child. 5 Then Sandy pulled the big t-shirt over her head, revealing a one-piece swimsuit, thonged in the back, which in a circle around her belly bulge had the obscene legend: "Every Little Boy Needs A Little Sister To Fuck". Maria Juanita dropped the long dress to reveal a short-length leotard that was scrawled with the same as Kate's top, only in Spanish, French, Russian and other languages, and a button over her left breast that boldly proclaimed INCEST ONLY as her sexual preference. Kate then took off the knit top, revealing an odd T-shirt-like garment cut to expose the breasts, and over the belly area two lines, the top one: "The kid who nursed on milk from these" (then an arrow to the breasts) and the bottom one: "shot cum from his cock in here" (then an arrow to the belly). "...and you can wear these proudly anywhere you go, because the quality is guaranteed. Let us thank our models for showing off these fine fashions, they were great... Diane?" "Thanks, Dan... Guys, remember, for the best deals in family sex supplies, the Family Values Channel is the place. That phone number, once again, is 1-800-FAMILIA. Prices on the _Tammy-wear_ line by *Tammy-Marlow(tm)* begin at..." "Y'know what, Daddy?" asked Joan, cuddling up to him. "What, sweetheart?" "I think you're right... As long as a father's or brother's or son's cock is flooding her womb with the white stuff, a girl knows the maternity clothes are coming soon." "And, may we ask, how soon would *you* like them?" he asked with a smile. "Oh . . . Maybe I should need it in about a couple of months?" Mike reached for the remote control. "... and remember to stay tuned for our special offer on the Fucking-Your-Kids-Workout *and* How-To-Turn-On-A-Parent videos, and the memorabilia sale by former Porn Actress and confessed dogfucker turned Presidential Aspirant, Miss...

An Erotic Story

Collections/SirSnuffHorrid/FrankMcCoy/shopchnl.txt

MAW

Hypno Celeb 60: Shania Twain

Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains graphic descriptions of sexuality. If this offends you, leave now. This is fiction. Hypnosis does not work this way. If you feel like trying this, seek help. Yet another Mesmer Eyes suggestion. Also, Celeste Reviews recently ran a challenge for stories with a funhouse theme. While I don't put myself in the same class as the people who grace Celeste's pages, I'd like to send in this humble entry. All comments and suggestions/scenarios welcomed. Enjoy. The crowd cheered as the last song filled the large tent. Shania Twain smiled and took a bow. Growing up in Canada, she had never expected to get such a following as a country music star. But the crowd at the benefit fair in this small Texas town loved her as if she was a native-born countrywoman. Well, Shania was never one to argue with success. She thanked the crowd before walking off stage. Her long brown hair billowed out behind her in curls. She wore a tight black outfit that she had chosen before stepping outside and feeling the Texas heat. She was looking forward to a long shower when she got back to her hotel, but she decided to enjoy the festivities for a while. It was still afternoon and she had time to kill. Besides, the people were friendly and seemed to love her. It was a nice-sized carnival, a permanent one that operated in the summer and drew visitors from miles around. Shania had agreed to perform in a concert with some other country stars, to help raise money for damage a tornado had done to a nearby town. It was good publicity and Shania truly enjoyed helping people out. The festival was in its second day and the next act was scheduled for that night. Shania told the band to relax and enjoy the rides while she planned to do the same. She ran into quite a few fans as she walked around. She smiled, signed autographs and posed for a few pictures. She knew the folks meant well, but she was tired and was hoping for some quiet. She caught sight of the Haunted Manor, a large building with appropriately spooky decorations. It was indoors, dark and probably air-conditioned. Shania felt it deserved a walk-through at least. She brushed at her hair as she walked up, her boots sliding into the fresh dirt. As she walked into the building, she failed to see the smile on the face of the attendant, who hit a button that sent a signal to a room below the building. A smile lit up along with the signal. It was a shock entering the cool building after being outside all day. Shania paused a moment to let the goosebumps fade before walking forward. It was a darkened hallway ahead and Shania could barely make out anything in front of her. She took a few hesitant steps forward, reaching out with her hands, trying to get a feel for where she was. Just as her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, the floor gave way underneath her and she fell onto a slide. She slid down several feet before landing on a mat inside a dim room. Shania shook her head and sat up, trying to get her bearings. This wasn't exactly what she was expecting. Frightening people was one thing. Almost breaking their necks was another. Before she could get up and investigate the room, the walls suddenly lit up. The effect was blinding, disorienting Shania. When her vision returned, she could see that the walls were lit with fluorescent lighting. They were in odd patterns, spirals and waves that changed color and moved swiftly and silently. Shania was bombarded by images and colors, not knowing where to look. To add to the effect, a strobe light flashed periodically from the ceiling, bathing the entire room in a wild mess of color and light. As Shania stared at the glowing walls and the patterns they held, a sound filled the room. A mysterious pounding combined with a lyrical organ penetrated Shania's mind and began its work. The subminimal messages inside the music worked at her mind, lowering her resistance and her inhibitions. Shania felt herself involuntarily relax, her eyes drawn to the spirals and waves on the walls. They seemed to nice to her, so calm and relaxing. She felt like she could just stare at them forever. She'd tear her eyes away from a multi-colored wave only to have her sight sucked in by a spinning, changing spiral. Shania sat on the cot, transfixed as the room slowly but surely brainwashed her. It could have been five minutes or ten hours later when the flashing lights stopped and the music ceased. "Rise," a voice commanded over the loudspeakers. Helpless to disobey, Shania stood up, swaying slightly as she stared right at the wall in front of her. "Disrobe completely," the voice stated. Shania began to peel off her leather outfit. She was topless, her sizeable breasts falling loose as she stripped off her top. Her sweat-stained panties joined the outfit on the floor and she kicked off her boots. A door opened and a naked woman entered. She was middle-aged but in good shape, her breasts sagging only slightly. Her long blonde hair fell to her waist and she smiled kindly at the mesmerized singer. If Shania had been conscious, she might have recognized the woman as one of the event's organizers. The woman took a few steps forward and embraced Shania, kissing her hard. Shania responded passionately, her will removed by the room's effects, her only desire to please. The woman pushed her back onto the cot and straddled her. They kissed for long moments before the older woman broke off and moved down to Shania's chest. She buried her head in between those gorgeous tits, pushing them together with her face in the middle. She tickled one nipple as she massaged the other with her palm. She kneaded them together, loving the feel of them under her hands. Shania moaned as she felt pleasure overtake her. The woman pushed herself up and then turned Shania onto her stomach. The woman slid her hands down the Canadian's back, coming to the smooth ass. She began massaging the buttocks, rubbing her hands around them. Her fingers shot into Shania's clit as she rubbed, quick jabs that elicited groans of pleasure from Shania. The blonde pushed her face to Shania's pussy and began to mouth at it, her tongue sliding in as her lips circled the dark-haired lips. Her hands continued to massage Shania as she ate her out, building Shania's pleasure up more. The tongue dived deep into Shania's pussy, causing her to wither on the couch, her breasts sliding on the smooth mat. Shania came, exploding on the other woman with a cry. The woman spent several minutes licking away at Shania's ass before lying back and spreading open her legs. Shania needed no instructions. She moved in and buried her face into the woman's lap, her tongue diving into the blonde-haired twat. She lapped at the pussy, her tongue jabbing in and out of the woman's lips. The woman moaned and leaned back, wrapping her legs around Shania's head, holding her in. She worked her pelvis as if willing her juices down. Shania knew her mistress was almost ready and it was her job to make her cum. She did, the juices falling onto Shania's lips. She licked away as the woman's thighs clamped around her head, holding her in until she had licked away every single drop before her, the first of many such chores. Shania grinned as she headed back to her trailer. It had been a good day, with a lot of fun. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed herself and the carnival was a perfect place for it. Still, she'd want to come back in different weather. It was probably the heat but for some reason, she felt incredibly tired and dry.

MC,FF

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11892.txt

Chili Peeler

Peeler RP: Manhattan Madness - Part 2

Jim woke up the next morning around 9 A.M. with a boner and the fragments of a dream. He couldn't remember any details but he was pretty sure Julie was in it. He got out of bed, showered and went out into the living room. No one else appeared to be up, so he went into the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal as Beth had suggested. He went out on the balcony and ate it at the patio table, enjoying the sun. It felt like it was already 70 degrees out. As he sat there, he thought about his sister and her gorgeous lover. Apparently they had planned to put on a charade for the time he was in town; Jim bet that was his sister's idea. Julie didn't impress him as someone that would give a damn if anyone knew. "Penny for your thoughts." Jim looked around and Julie was standing in the open sliding patio door. She was wearing a short silk robe, cinched tight around her waist but the top was showing plenty of her cleavage. Her hair was pinned up and damned if she wasn't wearing lipstick already. Even fresh out of bed, she looked hot. 'Think of something clever to say,' he thought. He had no idea if Julie even went for guys but he instinctively wanted to open a bridge, just in case. No balls, no glory. "Uh..I was just enjoying the view," he said, letting his eyes linger on her chest before looking up at her face. Julie's eyes dropped quickly to her open robe and then she looked back at him. Rather than pull it shut, a slow smile played across her lips. Then it was her turn to run her eyes over him; he'd come out in a pair of shorts but no shirt. If Jim hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed it. "Well, you're only going to be here a short time," Julie said, "You should see all you can while you're in town." Again the smile, then she turned and headed into the kitchen. 'I'll be damned! I think she was flirting back.' Now he had a quandary....should he press the issue or let it lie? Julie was his sister's lover and Beth had been very kind to invite him and pay for his ticket. Supposing he was able to get into Julie's pants and then Elizabeth found out? It might cause a fall-out and his sister would have to move out of this great apartment. He decided he couldn't even risk that. 'Keep it in your pants. Besides, you might be reading too much into it.' Elizabeth came out about fifteen minutes later, in a similar robe, her hair up in a towel. She kissed him good morning and asked if he wanted anything else for breakfast. He declined; she had some cereal as well as they sat out on the patio. Julie had gone in to take her shower. "I've got a busy day planned for us," Elizabeth said, finishing her cereal, "We'll get all of the touristy stuff done today.....Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, UN building....then if you're up to it, we can go out tonight. I don't have to work." "Hey, that sounds great....I just need to put on some clothes. When do you want to leave?" "In about 30 minutes....oh...and wear shorts today. It's supposed to be up in the high 80's." Elizabeth loosened the towel around her head and rubbed her head with it a moment. As Jim was getting up, she brought the towel away and ran her hand back through her damp hair as she crossed her legs, causing her robe to ride up on her thighs. He went to his room, hating himself for once again thinking about his sister in less than a sisterly fashion. They arrived back at the apartment around 6 o'clock after a log day of sightseeing with plans to order out some Chinese food. Jim had never eaten Chinese food and Beth was looking forward to expanding his horizons in that area. The light on the answering machine was blinking and Beth hit it as she picked up the phone to call Wu Fong's. The first message was for Julie and Beth wrote down a number. The second message was: "Pepper, it's Vince. I know you got tonight off but I need ya to work. Sorry. Call me when you get in." "Shit!" Beth said and sagged her shoulders. "You got to work?" Jim said from the couch he'd fallen on. "It sounds like it.....I'll try to get out of it if I can." Elizabeth dialed the phone. "I really don't need this...I asked for this night off a long time ago." "Did that guy call you 'Pepper'?" "Yeah..Vince, he's the owner, he likes to use nicknames.....wait, hello Vince. Yeah, it's me. I just got in..........listen, my brother's in town.......I know but.....well, if I come in, you've got to sweeten it for me......" Jim made like he was uninterested, flipping through the magazines on the coffee table again. "That's what I wanted to hear, Vince. I'll be there in an hour. Bye." Beth hung up the phone. "Jim, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to go in. One of the other hostesses can't make it." "No sweat, sis. We can go out another night. Besides, I'm beat anyway." "Yeah, and I'm gonna be on my feet all night," Beth whined. "But I can still order you some food, if you want?" "No, let's wait. I know you wanted to watch me eat it, am I right? You want to watch your dumb brother try those chopsticks!" Beth laughed. "Listen, I'll just eat whatever leftovers you got in the fridge. Don't worry about me. Go ahead and get ready for work." Elizabeth came out ten minutes later in a nice blouse and slacks. She wrote down the address of the apartment in case he wanted to go out. She said she'd tell the doorman he was staying with them and she gave him a spare key. She told him there was a movie theater a few streets over if he got bored. "All right, I'm out of here. See ya later." She left him with a smile. Jim made a sandwich and had a beer and watched the local news. The first couple stories were about crime of course. Then there was a story about Times Square. That was one landmark that he and his sister had not hit, so he watched it with some interest. Apparently the Times Square area was not a great family draw; the surrounding area looked like it was filled with X-rated movie houses and strip clubs. Just the kind of place Jim was looking for! He'd been horny all day watching all the girls go by and thinking about his sister and Julie. He didn't know how far it was by cab but he had money. He'd just go to Times Square and take in some sights. He went in, looked at himself in the mirror and decided he could get away without a shower. He soaped up his armpits and then used some deodorant. He used some hairspray on his hair after getting it just right. Splashed on some Drakkar aftershave but did not shave; the five-o'clock shadow made him look older. Moving back into the bedroom, he picked out his clothes. He didn't want to look too good; since the area was seedy, he decided to dress down. He settled on a pair of faded stonewashed jeans, a old grey dress shirt and his black Nike aeorbic shoes. He checked his wallet for the fake ID he'd brought from Nebraska for just such a situation. It said he was 21 and the picture was pretty close. Going out into the living room, he pocketed the key Beth had given him, took his plate and beer can out to the kitchen. "Let's fire up!" he said, getting psyched for his big adventure. He grabbed another beer and downed it in a couple of long chugs. "All right, now we're going!" Feeling pretty excited, he headed for the front door. And as he did so, it opened and in walked Julie. Last night's dress had been good but the one Julie had on now was even better. Tight like last night's, electric blue and this one had a plunging neckline which showed about five inches of billowing cleavage. "There's my favorite farmboy!' Julie said as she closed the door and leaned against it. She looked like she had a wild hair up her butt. Jim just smiled at her, not sure if she was complimenting him or if she was making fun of him. 'She could insult me all night if she'll just stand there with her shoulders stooped forward, showing me the tops of those titties,' his evil side thought. "Looks like you're ready to take Manhattan. Is Liz getting ready?" "She got called into work."Julie moved from the door and walked past Jim, almost brushing her shoulder with. Jim turned to keep her in his sight as she went to sit on the couch. Her strong legs crossed, giving him a good view of her thighs. "Yeah, I've got someplace in mind," Jim replied. He wanted to see if he could get a reaction out of Julie. "I'm headed down to Times Square." He'd all but told her he was going out to see some flesh and her smile never wavered. In fact, her smile got sort of wicked. "Times Square's all quantity and not much quality," Julie said as she crossed her legs, "I know a real good club if you want to see some top-class pussy." Julie's frank language stunned Jim. He was sure, thinking about it later, that his jaw must have dropped open like in the cartoons. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I offend you?" Julie said but he could tell she wasn't really concerned if he was offended. "I thought you were looking for a hot time tonight." Jim couldn't pass this up. 'Either Julie wants me or she's just toying with me.....either way, the thought of her and me walking into a strip club together sounds real good. The guys in there will go nuts and wonder how the hell I was so lucky.' "Guilty as charged," Jim said as he dove back in. "In fact, the hotter the better." Julie thought about that for a second, then said, "You might burn up." "Lead the way." Jim countered, forgetting all about his resolve of that morning. If Julie wanted to take him to see some pussy, he sure as hell wasn't going to worry about any ramifications. It could be the wildest night of his life. They headed downstairs and the doorman hailed them a cab. When they were inside it, Julie leaned forward and gave the driver an address and the cab headed out. Julie leaned back and looked at him with that knowing smirk that passed for a smile. "Tell me, Jim, do you have a girlfriend back home?" she said. "Yeah...her name's Tina." Jim volunteered, although he was making it up. He'd used to date Tina but they'd broken up over a month ago. "Did you give her a good fucking before you got on the plane?" Again that smirk. Jim wasn't surprised now by her frank expressions; he found it exciting. If Julie was so casual about the subject, how could she object when he came on to her? And he was going to come on to her! "Sure did," Jim bragged, "She can never get enough." "Good for her...and you. Is she faithful to you when you're away?" "Yeah, I suppose so." Jim lied further. "And how about you? Were you just going out tonight to look at some pussy or were you going to get some?" Julie continued to try and push his buttons. Jim thought, 'She's making it so fuckin easy.....too easy. She wants me to come on to her. She's had Beth, now she wants to try me! Go for it!' "I had hoped to get lucky while I was here," Jim said as he shifted toward her and placed his hand on her bare knee. She didn't even look at it, just kept staring at his face. Jim continued after a second, "Maybe you'd like to take me under your wing while I'm here. We could have ourselves some fun." "Yeah, we could have some fun," Julie said seductively as she leaned toward him, "but you're not going to get any pussy off me." Jim felt all the air rush out of his balloon. What kind of a game was Julie playing with him? She'd gotten him all worked up and then pulled the carpet out from under him. Struggling to understand, Jim blurted, "What? You only go for girls?" That got her. Julie's smirk disappeared for a few seconds. Jim knew she must have put two and two together. 'Way to go, dumbass!' Jim mentally berated himself. "You naughty boy. Have you been spying on Lizzie and me?" Julie's smile came back, bigger than ever, and Jim knew he was in the clear. "No, I just had a hunch...you just confirmed it for me. Her bathroom was too empty; I could tell she wasn't using it....then last night, I could hear my sister all the way out in the living room." "Mmmmm, yes, she can get rather vocal," Julie said with a little pride in her voice. "So, now you know. She wanted to keep it a secret...I thought she was being foolish; she's a big girl and she can sleep with whoever she wants but she didn't think her little brother should know that she swings both ways...like me." Julie's right hand covered his hand on her knee and stroked it. "But I thought...." Jim began. "You weren't listening," Julie cut in. "I said you wouldn't get any pussy off me tonight and I said we'd have fun.....there's all kinds of ways to have fun." Julie's voice was almost purring. "Fuck, Julie, let's go back to the apartment!" Jim suggested quickly. His dick was getting rock hard in his pants as he imagined Julie sucking him off...that had to be what she was driving at. Julie sucking his dick while he used his hands on her curvy bod...squeezing her tits and, if she'd let him, fingering her pussy. Julie just laughed. "All good things to those that wait. Besides, I just had an idea....Driver, we want to change our destination. Head uptown." Julie shifted over against Jim and moved his hand up onto one of her heavy tits. Jim pressed his palm against the dress, amazed at the firmness of her breast. Then Julie's mouth was on his, her lips smashing against his in a hot liplock that made Jim squeeze her silicone titty stronger. Julie wasted no time in pushing her tongue into his mouth; she seemed to enjoy taking the lead. In the front seat, the cabbie adjusted his mirror to watch. About fifteen minutes later, the cab pulled up to the curb and Jim and Julie got out. The neighborhood did not look like a commercial district; there was no neon lights or bright signs proclaiming, "Girls! Girls! Girls!" Julie opened her purse but Jim moved in front of her and paid the cabby. "Thanks, young fella," the old guy said as he tucked the bills into a box on the front seat beside him, "I'd wish you a good night but I can tell you're gonna have a good one." Jim winked at him and the cab pulled away. Julie held out her hand, he grabbed it and she led him toward the old building in front of which they stood. They went around a wrought iron railing and down a staircase that began at street level. At the bottom was a door which Julie knocked on. Like a scene from a Prohibition film, someone drew back an eye-level slat. "Hey, Gus." Julie said to the pair of eyes and the slat swung shut. The door opened and Julie led him in. He found himself being guided down a dim hallway as the doorman shut the door behind them. "What kind of place is this?" Jim asked. "It's a strip club, of course. Very hush-hush...I doubt if most of the people in the neighborhood even know it's here." Julie led him down another flight of stairs and they turned into a large dim lit room. There were several half-moon shaped booths on the far wall, jammed with a collection of well-dressed men, some in suit and ties, most middle aged. The middle of the room was filled with small tables, most of which were occupied as well. The other side of the room was a large bar with a topless blonde bartender that was busy pouring some well drinks for another topless girl that stood in front of the bar; around her waist was a small apron. "Nice employees!' Jim said as Julie led him to a small empty table in the middle of the room. Jim noticed most of the men openly staring at Julie even though several scantily clad dancers hovered around their tables. Eat your hearts out, fellas! "The performers work up here and downstairs." Julie said, then seeing his questioning look, continued, "they have a dance room downstairs." Julie sat down as Jim held a chair out for her and then he pulled his seat over to hers. Julie looped an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his chest with the other hand. Jim was going to kiss her again to make all the other guys more jealous but a waitress came up to their table. She was a cute redhead with hard-looking breasts. "Hey, Julie....who's your cute friend?" She gave Jim a long look. "This here is my new dreamboat," Julie said, not offering his name, as she ran her hand down his stomach. Jim shifted as it came perilously close to the hard-on beginning again in his pants. "Let us have a couple of Long Islands." "All right," the waitress said, "Don't let that stud get away before I get back." She turned and walked to the bar and Jim ogled her lovely ass as it ground away. "You like her?" Julie whispered in his ear. "What's not to like?" Jim pulled her close and kissed her again as he ran his right hand down her back and rubbed the top of her ass. "Would you like to sleep with her?" Jim asked as he squeezed her ass. "Sheryl?....sure, she's strictly hetero....but I'm working on her." Jim couldn't tell if Julie was being serious or not. He hoped at least that she was being faithful to his sister...but maybe that was too much to ask for a knockdead bi-sexual in New York. "Ah, there he is." Julie said as she stood up. Jim followed her eyes and saw that a man had appeared behind the bar and was talking to the blonde bartendress. "Excuse me for a minute, I've got to talk to this guy." Julie stood up and walked over to the bar. Jim saw a lot of eyes following the tall brunette in her clinging dress. Sheryl passed her, heading back to their table with their drinks. Jim dug out his billfold. "Here ya go, Sugar." Sheryl was all charm as she leaned close to him to put Julie's drink in front of her chair. Jim fished a twenty out of his billfold and held it out to the waitress as she straightened up. "How much are the drinks?" he asked her, wondering how much of a bite the drinks were going to take out of the twenty. "Sugar, the drinks are always free here," the redhead explained as took the bill from his hand.With a smile, she set her tray down on the table and tucked the bill in the string of her apron. "But twenty will get you this." With that, she swung her leg over his and lowered herself on his lap as her hands went around his neck. Jim found his face close to Sheryl's magnificent tits as she began to grind herself against him. "Wow!" Jim gasped as Sheryl's crotch rubbed on his manhood. "Big boy, if Julie weren't here, I'd take you downstairs and we'd have ourselves a good ole time," Sheryl said it like she meant it, but Jim knew that most strippers were interested in one thing - money. She might take him downstairs, but it wouldn't be for a twenty. "Aaaahh, Sheryl, that feels great..." he said, looking over to the bar as his hands lightly played up the outside of Sheryl's flexing thighs. He saw Julie talking to the guy behind the bar. The man said something to Julie, and she looked at her watch...'mmmm...oh, man!' "Oh yeah, stud, I can feel something nice and hard down here," Sheryl said as she gave her hips a hard thrust. Jim looked up at her face; it simmered with $20 of desire. Sheryl brought her lips close to his, teasing him, promising untold delights. Then she went to her sales pitch. "Baby, I want to get you off....$100....we'll go downstairs, whattaya say?" "Believe me, I'd like to, Sheryl," Jim said. "But I'm saving myself for my date, if you know what I mean." "I bet you could satisfy us both but..." Sheryl predicted as she dismounted from his lap "...remember the offer." Julie returned then, smirking knowingly as she stood by Sheryl. "Looks like Sheryl was being very nice to you," she said as she used her right hand to slowly pull Sheryl's hair back over her shoulder. Sheryl looked sideways at Julie as her hand continued down her back, slowly, then moved onto the waitress' bottom. With a chuckle, Sheryl spun away. "Aren't you ever going to give it up?" Sheryl said cutely as she picked up her tray. "Sheryl, one of these days I'll catch you in a weak moment," Julie predicted as she sat back down, "and then I'll ruin you for men forever." Sheryl blew her a kiss and headed off toward another table. "You weren't kidding about Sheryl; you'd like to get her into bed wouldn't you?" Jim said. "Mmmmm, yeah!....and then after I was through with her...and she was really juicy....I'd let you fuck her while I watched!" Julie's eyes flashed at him, and he knew she wasn't kidding. She looked again at her watch. "Grab your drink. It's time to head downstairs." Downstairs turned out to be another large, dimly lit room that looked like any other strip club. More booths and tables filled with wealthy-looking clientele, plenty of topless waitresses, and a small stage with runways and a couple of brass poles. A small Asian woman was dancing on the stage in a spotlight when they came down. Julie asked the floor seater for a booth in the back of the room; Jim would have liked to sit closer to the stage, but he soon found out why Julie wanted a booth. After they sat down, Julie flipped a switch on the wall behind them, and the light over their booth went out, leaving them with some privacy. "You having a good time yet?" she asked facetiously. "Fuck, yes....Here, feel for yourself," he said as he moved her hand to the bulge in his pants. He liked the throaty chuckle of surprise she gave as her palm stroked him through his jeans. "Whoa, it feels like Lizzie's little brother is hung." Julie teased. "We're only going to stay for about another fifteen minutes...I want to get you home. You and I are going to have a wild time before your sister gets back." "Why wait? Let's go now." Jim again suggested. He'd been teased enough tonight. He wanted to get Julie back to the apartment, rip her dress off, and do whatever she'd let him do. "Wait just a few more minutes...there's a really hot dancer coming out.... after she's through, we'll split." Julie took her hand away from his crotch and drank her drink as she watched the Asian girl simulate making love to one of the poles on the stage. Jim did the same, thinking about what a wild trip it was turning into. His sister could have had a dour, frumpy roommate, but instead, she was living with a bisexual bombshell that was going to do the wild thing with him, maybe for the rest of his stay. Apparently, Julie liked cock...and he knew he had been doled out a little more dick than most guys. He came in at just over 8 inches - a hefty, full 8 inches. He was thinking about Julie's full lips wrapping around his wanger as the Asian girl slipped behind the curtains and a fresh song started up. A deep baritone voice then announced over the club sound system, "And now for your enjoyment, the delectable Pepper!" Jim jerked his head back to the stage as his sister, dressed in a skimpy orange thong bikini, slid from behind the curtain and did a slow twirl around one of the poles.

Chapter 3

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11114.txt

LM l

"Surprise!"

Ever since I was old enough, one of my favorite hobbies has been working on automobiles. I'm certainly no expert in the field, but I do know my way around basic vehicle repair and upgrades. As a result, I do not have to pay an auto shop when my Jeep needs a tune-up. I simply do it myself. Of course, I have to buy the necessary parts for a tune-up. But I do the actual repair/upgrade work myself. As a result, I save myself a lot of money. This was the case on a recent Saturday afternoon. After putting it off for a month or so, I decided to buckle down and give my Jeep a much-needed tune-up. It was about time. After buying all the necessary parts at a nearby store, I drove home and then started working on the Jeep. In the garage below the apartment complex where we live, I spent over an hour working on the Jeep. I was fairly "tuned into" the repair work - I wasn't really thinking about anything else. Only a few things in the world could have broken my concentration. Of course, one of them happened. "Aren't you ever gonna finish with that Jeep?" came a familiar female voice from outside the garage. I stopped in the middle of what I was doing, and peered around the raised hood of the Jeep. There she was. Lisa, my fiancee - she stood near the garage door, her arms folded and weight shifted to one foot. Her long blonde hair tied up in a pony-tail, Lisa was wearing a tight pair of faded jeans and a green sweater. The essence of beauty, to me... "I should be finished soon," was my reply. "Why?" Lisa offered an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders, along with a curious expression. "Oh, I don't know." She slowly stepped into the garage, toward me. "I'm feeling kind of... fluttery, this afternoon." "Fluttery?" I inquired, my eyebrows raising. She flashed a charming smile my way and gently clasped her hands together. "Yeah, fluttery. Happy. Carefree. Lighthearted. Fluttery, you know?" I held back a laugh and replied, "I guess." Lisa giggled while stepping closer toward me. "It's just you're down here, working on the Jeep..." She stopped walking, then shrugged her shoulders. "You're not up in the apartment... with me." What was she up to? That thought immediately popped into my mind. "Should I be with you?" was my response. Again, Lisa shrugged her shoulders, but this time in a simple manner. It was accompanied by an innocent expression upon her face. "I wish you were." She was playing a game with me. An odd game, but a game nonetheless. What did Lisa want? "I have to finish fixing up the Jeep before I do anything, sweetheart." Another smile came to her face. "When you're ready, I have a surprise waiting upstairs for you." My eyebrows shot up again. "A surprise?" "Yes, a surprise," she smiled, before turning and slowly walking away. Lisa glanced back over her shoulder at me and coyly added, "The sooner you go upstairs, the sooner you get your surprise." She giggled. "It's that simple." "What are you talking about?" I asked, raising my voice slightly as she disappeared around the corner. "Surprise?" "Come upstairs and find out!" she called back. I looked into the engine of the Jeep and could not help but to laugh to myself. Lisa was up to something. She knew that by telling me about her "surprise", my curiosity would not allow me to finish working on the Jeep. I HAD to know why she was acting so peculiar. Thus, I put all the tools and equipment down, then went over to the workbench and grabbed a bar of soap. Having to wash up before going back into the apartment, I went out to the water faucet and gave my hands and arms a complete and thorough scrubbing. They weren't that greasy in the first place, so it didn't take me long to wash up. I put the bar of soap back in the garage, then closed the door and started heading up the steps to the main entrance of our apartment. For an instant, I caught Lisa peeking out between the blinds of the living room window. Upon seeing me, she disappeared. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head while walking across the patio to the front door. My beloved fiancee was acting VERY peculiar. Once inside the apartment, I glanced around but did not see Lisa anywhere. She must have ran off into the bedroom or laundry room, I said to myself. "Lisa?" I called out, giving the immediate surroundings one more quick glance. "What in the world you up to, woman?" I noticed a slender hand and arm being extended from the bedroom, which was directly in front of me... about 25 feet away. A finger slowly rose from that hand, and motioned for me to come closer. A smile came to my face. I knew what she wanted now. Lisa wanted to tear me away from my Jeep so she could have sex with me. What else could it be? I couldn't think of anything else. After all, she was motioning for me FROM the bedroom. Sexy, devious minds think alike, you know. That's how I came up with what she was doing. :> As I started walking toward the bedroom, Lisa's arm drew back behind the doorway. I shook my head, smiling. Not only does my fiancee like to play games with me... but she can be very creative in doing so, as well. "Surprise!" she exclaimed, jumping at me as I entered the bedroom. Her arms encircling my body, Lisa moved her mouth to mine and offered a VERY pleasurable kiss. I smiled against the kiss, then slid my tongue between her lips and started wiggling it around. I tilted my face over her, which merely intensified our shared kiss. "Can't you wait, woman?" I jokingly scorned her, once our lips moved apart. "I would have been finished soon!" Lisa grinned while softly tracing my neck and shoulder area with her fingertip. "I was feeling a bit lonely," she said, now offering a fake pout. Now, I was completely under her spell. Lisa even looks sexy when she gives that little pout of hers. It drives me CRAZY! "What's a girl to do?" "I oughta give you a spanking, for tearing me away from the garage," I mused. "You definitely deserve one!" Lisa laughed and said, "What? You rather work on that Jeep? Or would you rather work on ME?" I grinned and jokingly replied, "The Jeep." "OHHHH!" Lisa giggled, playfully slapping my shoulder. "Let's see if you still feel that way after I get finished with you. Yeah..." As if she had been challenged, Lisa pressed her mouth to mine and offered a powerful kiss. Hard and deep from the very beginning, the kiss just became stronger and stronger as the seconds went by. Soon, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and brought her body against mine. I revelled in the feel of her full breasts pressing against my frontside. With one hand, I cupped and rubbed the side of her right breast through the green sweater she wore. In response, Lisa snaked her right hand between us, then reached down and briskly rubbed away at the growing erection in my jeans. I sighed at the sexual friction created, then walked her over to the bed. I could really do this with her forever... However, Lisa broke the kiss and then pushed me down until I was seated upon the edge of the bed. Leaning over, Lisa gave my a lips a quick kiss and then she dropped down to her knees. Leaning close to me now, she rubbed my chest with both hands and then splayed several kisses on my neck. I smiled, cradling her head in my hands and offering it a gentle massage. I love Lisa so much. I really do. Lisa grinned with lust as she unlooped my belt and took it off. She undid my jeans, then reached beneath my briefs and pulled my semi-hard erection out. I sighed in response as she began to give my shaft a good pumping with her hand. With her other hand, Lisa managed to pull both my jeans and briefs down. I kicked off my shoes, then assisted her in getting rid of my jeans and briefs as well.Now, except for a t-shirt and a pair of socks, I was completely nude. On her knees, Lisa settled between my legs and started pumping away on my cock with both of her hands. I LOVE her hands. They are beautiful; soft and gentle, and warm. You could really call me a "hands man". I truly enjoy it when my fiancee touches me with her hands. Knowing this, Lisa gave my shaft a good rub-down with her hands. She stroked its full length up-and-down, up-and-down - in repeated fashion. Her fingertips rubbed against my flesh, causing wild sparks of sexual electricity to shoot throughout my entire body. Still pumping away, Lisa looked up at me when I placed a hand on her head. We exchanged knowing smiles, then she began to stroke and pump my fully-erect shaft faster than before. I threw my head back and sighed in response, which caused her to giggle and squeal in delight. "Naughty little tease," I smiled at her. "Oh?" she smirked. "Tease, eh?" I nodded my head and grinned. "Yeah, you're a tease." "Can't argue," she squealed, just before opening her mouth and sliding the very tip of my cock inside. I moaned in pure delight as Lisa continued to stroke my shaft's length with both hands, while her mouth and tongue worked on its tip. I could feel her tongue as it flickered over and across my cockhead; the sensations sent heat waves shooting throughout my body. Obviously a bit hungry, Lisa detracted both hands from my shaft, then moved one to my testicles and twirled their gentle flesh between her fingers. Now with my cock free of her hands, she could take more of it into her hungry mouth. Lisa seized the opportunity, completely engulfing my member within her mouth. She had swallowed me whole; her lips and nose were pressing hard against my pubic hair. There was not even a tiny fraction of my cock showing. Its entire length was embedded in her mouth and throat... Lisa kept it that way for several seconds. I could feel her tongue twirl and swirl around it every now and then. I shivered each time she exhaled a breath through her nose... I felt the cool breeze of outgoing air. I nearly jumped when she offered my testicles a playful pinch - between two of her fingertips. Even though her mouth was completely full, Lisa still managed a lustful, carnal laugh in response. She was teasing me! Next, my 20-year-old fiancee made a gagging noise as she started to bob her head up-and-down over my full erection. Lisa applied a good amount of suction while grasping the base of my cock with her right hand, as her left continued to knead and caress my testicles. Lisa simply loves to give blowjobs to me. There is no doubt about that. At the same time, there is no doubt, at least in my mind, that no woman in the world is better when it comes to fellatio. In my experiences, no woman has even come close to her in this area. Luxuariating in the sexual heat, I closed my eyes and sighed. Soon, I re-opened them and looked down, so I could watch Lisa's blonde head as bobbed up-and-down over my cock. In the process, I undid the pink bow which had held her hair up in a pony-tail. Thus, her long blonde tresses fell down her slender neck and back... truly a beautiful sight. Lisa looks much better during sex with her hair free and flowing, instead of up in a pony-tail. She looks more "girlish" with a pony-tail - I like the "womanly" look more. I threw my head back and sighed again, now feeling a powerful orgasm brewing within my body. Another laugh came from Lisa... she knew EXACTLY what was happening to me. "Tease!" I exclaimed, then she giggled even louder. Nonetheless, Lisa continued to bob her head up-and-down over my pulsating member... now, at warp speed. I couldn't take much more of this sweet torture... "CUMMING!" I screamed, thrusting my hips up a good six inches off the edge of the bed. Lisa's lips clamped themseleves tightly around my cock, and she did not lose her grip when my hips jolted upwards. I felt the eruption, then listened as Lisa made another gagging noise. Soon, she started to swallow the buckets of sperm which I had shot into her mouth. I moaned in pure lust as one of her hands pumped the base of my shaft, while the other played with my testicles. To her credit, Lisa was able to swallow the entire helping of sperm down her throat. Of course, that is usually the case. She loves it so much, that one of my sexual nicknames for her is "Sperm Bank". A short time later, I was seated upon the middle of the bed, while Lisa was in my lap. Down to her white bra and matching G-string, she had her arms around me as both of us shared a very intense and gratifying kiss. Completely nude now, I slid my hands to her bottom and squeezed it roughly. Lisa squealed in response, and then offered a stronger kiss. I returned her increased passion with some of my own. This is definitely what I enjoy. Soon, I undid the clasp which held her bra together in back. She slid its straps from her shoulders, then I pulled the bra away from her body and tossed it onto the floor. Eventually, I broke the kiss as well, and nibbled away on her neck and shoulders. She really loves it when I do that. The left side of her neck is VERY sensitive - and I'm always sure to pay 'special' attention to it. Lisa wiggled herself out of my lap and then reclined all the way back, until she was laying down upon on the mattress. She spread her thighs and brought her knees into the air, then leaned up slipped her white G-string down and off. Smiling, she lay back down on the bed and looked up at me. With her legs widespread like that, it was obvious to me what Lisa wanted. I moved between her outstretched thighs and gave her intoxicating, damp slit a long lash with my tongue. Lisa gasped at the contact, then reached down and grasped my left hand with her right. Near her hip, she squeezed my hand tightly as I began feasting away upon her womanhood. Lisa let out a throaty groan as she hooked one of her legs around my shoulder and upper back. With my free hand, I teased and tickled the insides of her thighs, as my tongue feasted away on the several delicious recesses of her slit. Licking and slurping away at the gooey crevice, I moved a finger to her slit and began diddling it. Lisa's body tensed in response, then she let out a wild moan. It makes me feel very good to know that I am bringing her pleasure like this. That is my main goal in making love to Lisa. I kissed her gentle opening while her body started to rumble and vibrate upon the mattress. Soon, I plunged my tongue deep within her, and wiggled it around in mad, erotic circles. Lisa continued to moan in pure lust, while saying several words and phrases of love. But then, suddenly... "TAKE ME!" I originally planned to bring her to orgasm with my tongue. But, I could not ignore such a request. It was time to give her what she wanted. After all, she has given me MORE than I could ever ask for in life... I rose up to my knees between her outstretched thighs and fisted my hard cock, before guiding it between the tight confines of her slit. Lisa's eyes closed and her expression became tense as she let out a long sigh. I hooked both of her legs with my arms and then mounted her... Lisa arched her neck and back as I started to thrust my hard shaft in-and-out of her velvety slit. Soon, I caught a steady rhythm, but then paused for a short second. Lisa looked up at me in confusion, then I leaned down and offered her mouth a deep kiss. Just as quickly, I began hammering myself in-and-out of her again. Beneath me, Lisa's eyes were glued upon mine as I placed a hand upon her upturned bottom. We were cramped into a very tight position - especially her - but it did not matter. We were too glazed-over with passion to care. Lisa let out a thunderous, earth-shaking scream and then proceeded with a series of short yelps and moans as I continued with the thick, non-stop thrusting motion. After increasing the speed of the rhythm, I was pounding her at a furious, unrelenting pace. Lisa's skin was beet red, and her face was tightened, her eyes open and full. As our hips slammed together with each and every downward thrust, a loud SMACK could continually be heard throughout the bedroom. I really love that sound. No matter how much I tried, I could not contain the climax which was quickly building itself within me. I wanted to hammer Lisa a bit longer, but couldn't. A scream ripped from my throat as my cock exploded within Lisa's heavenly slit. At the very same time, Lisa experienced an orgasm of her own. Clutching and embracing one another, my fiancee and I rumbled together in mutual climax. Both of us exchanged several words of love, as well as quick, wet kisses. When our mutual spasms subsided, we quieted down but still moaned together in unison. I kissed Lisa's neck and hugged her fiercely - NEVER wanting to let her go. After a minute or two of rest, I decided to break the silence. "I love you, sweetheart," were my soft words. "Hmmmm..." Lisa moaned. "Hmmmm... I love you, too." We laid together, clutching and embracing one another like that, for at least 30 minutes. This is my Heaven. And later, I FINALLY finished that tune-up on the Jeep. :> [The End]

MF, romance

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8868.txt

kellis

"Late Curiosity" ( MF nc)

"Are you comfortable, Lucy?" "Huh! That's not one of your brighter questions, Tiger." He went around to each of her manacles and clamping the limb with one hand, made sure that the hasp was loose enough to rotate on her skin. When he was satisfied, he removed her mask and stood for a moment looking down at her. "Felt any pins and needles?" "Pins and -- Oh." "Have you?" "What if I did? Would you set me free?" "I'll rub it out if you tell me where you feel it." "Will you? Why so solicitous of a sudden, Tiger?" "For this step I want to minimize distractions." "That sounds ominous." He shook his head. "I won't harm you, Lucy." "Won't you? You were less sure of it a minute ago." "I said that it might <hurt> you, though I didn't think so. There's a difference." "Between <hurt> and <harm>? Huh! And you've lost your erection. That worries me even more." "It'll come back." He grinned. "For this one I'm using my other sex organ." "Your <what>?" His grin became a chuckle. "You have a talent for sounding incredulous. Didn't you hear the joke about the old man whose doctor said, 'Show me your sex organ,' and he stuck out his tongue?" "You propose to hurt me with your <tongue>?" "A real talent, Lucy! But I'll not <harm> you!" "Now <I> am curious! Do you have a very long one?" He laughed. "Long enough. It's not the length; it's the speed." She studied him, saying at last, "If I sound incredulous it's because what you say is preposterous." "Not preposterous at all, as you're about to find out. I told you: this is the most unmentionable act of all." He let himself down prone, stretched out before her, arms over her thighs, face in the vulva, and applied his tongue slowly and gently at first. After a moment she snorted. "Well, that's certainly not 'unmentionable.' It even has it's own word: <cunnilinctus>. You're obviously educated, Tiger. I'm amazed you don't know it!" But his response was only to continue his ministrations, very gradually firming the tongue. Her hips twitched. His tongue moved faster. "Tiger," she said softly, "I'll admit you wouldn't have to chain me down for <this>!" Soon her hips began to rotate. At that sign his speed increased. She began to shudder when the firm tip stroked her, lifting the clitoris as fast as he could move it. Grunts timed with his strokes became a ragged moan. Her hips rotated with abandonment as the crisis approached. Suddenly her whole torso arched powerfully, as with an electrical shock. He clamped her buttocks beneath him, tongue continuing to work the sensitive flesh mercilessly. Now she screamed, a mindless cry of utter agony, wavering on and on. Suddenly it choked off and she fell still save for heaving breast. His tongue continued for a few seconds but elicited no further reaction. He raised up over her, dripping saliva on her belly. She lay slack, head thrown back, eyes open, staring blindly at the pipe-riddled ceiling, panting for breath. He took the time to wipe his chin with another paper towel and don a condom before stretching himself upon her in the usual position. She responded to his thrusts almost immediately, moaning inarticulately, sphincters clipping him, soon fetching his second orgasm. Tiredly he backed away and got to his feet. She was breathing deeply with mouth open, eyes closed, face again turned away. He wiped both bodies with paper towels, carefully patting her pubes, then set about cleaning up the several articles scattered around her. Everything, even the soiled paper towels, went back into the briefcase. He used a last paper towel to polish the empty soda cans, leaving them among the shreds of her clothing. Finally he took down his own clothing and began to dress. He saw that she was watching him. "How do you feel, my dear?" "I don't know," she said after a while, adding, "That was cruel, Tiger." "Was it?" "You know it was. It would kill someone with a bad heart." "I made sure you were healthy, Lucy." "What was so unmentionable about it?" "The continuation." "The what? Do you mean to say you <knew> how it would feel?" "Up to a point. Every woman I ever licked before pushed me away hard. They've all said it's unbearable after they start to come. I wondered <how> unbearable!" He chuckled slightly. "And now I've learned only a little more than I knew before. <You're> the one who's just been educated! Aren't you lucky! I don't suppose you'll tell me how it felt." "It was terrible. I thought I'd die." "Did you pass out?" "I ... don't know." She said no more until he was knotting his tie, when she asked, "Are you going to just leave me here?" "As I told you: with a key in reach. And that garment bag. And the cooler. It's untraceable and has no fingerprints. There's one can left if you're thirsty." He stood by her right hand. "Move your hand down as far as you can, Lucy." "Down?" "Toward your foot... Okay, move it back up. Thank you." He stooped and placed a white metal key where her fingers had rested, then rotated the manacle around that wrist until the keyhole was aligned with her palm. "After I leave take up the key between finger and thumb, put it in the hole and twist it clockwise. I have verified that it's easy to do -- that is, if you're right-handed. You are, aren't you?" "Yes." "All right." He stepped over her and took the briefcase. "One last thing, for what it's worth. My grandfather was right. He said, 'A stiff prick has no conscience.' But I find that a soft one does. I regret mistreating you, Mrs. Grainger, and hope that you suffer no further unpleasantness. Would money make you feel better about it?" He took a roll of bills from his coat pocket and laid it on the canvas between her thighs. She warned, "Money won't square this!" "I suppose not. Anyway the police will want to see if they can trace it. Well, good-by, Mrs. Grainger. May we never meet again." "T-tiger, what if I drop the key?" He looked away. "Don't drop it." Her eyes, soft with worry, hardened as he deliberately turned his back. He clambered onto the box, opened the circular door and exited quickly, pushing the door nearly shut behind him. The transformer hum was loud in the deserted room. He reopened the briefcase long enough to stash the hosiery removed from his head, then ruffled his short hair before easing the steel door open and stepping out into the basement corridor. He sat over the reference book, turning a page occasionally, glancing up at every motion on the street observed through the large bay window across the room. He studied his wristwatch, comparing it once again to the clock on the opposite wall, his worry growing. Where were the police? Where was Lucy? He sat in the public library across the corner from Lucy's building, enjoying a clear view of both its entrances. In the hour and a half since his arrival at this seat Lucy had not appeared on the street. Nothing unusual had appeared at all. Only two people had gone into the building, both women. Three men had come out. That, too, was hardly unusual. This was an office building, not a department store. The firms that leased its space were the eight-to-five type, among them no doctor and no lawyer. He considered possibilities. Had Lucy and the cops set a trap in case he came back -- despite his assurance of being in another city tonight? By strolling to the window he could see a block in either direction down both streets. As far as he could tell all the parked cars were empty of occupants. Or had Lucy simply gone upstairs to work, explaining that Aunt Agatha's call was a false alarm? After all, he hadn't really harmed her. Yes, he'd treated her tits a bit roughly and her anus might be sore, though he'd been careful with speculum and penis and heard no complaint while using either. But his roll of bills had totaled $500. If she'd told the truth about her finances, she might find it preferable to shut up and keep it. Also, she might wish to avoid the pity and notoriety that a complaint would release, though recalling their conversation, he doubted that one. Or had she simply dropped the key? That was the possibility that worried him. He had laid the key on the sloping canvas. She would be nervous, over eager perhaps.Suppose in reaching for it, her fingers had clumsily knocked it away. She could die of thirst in there before anyone chanced to come. The forged note was too clever. It could be days, weeks, before anyone wondered enough to check on her. He straightened up, knowing full well that he could never put her fate from his mind with that possibility outstanding. He had to learn at least if she was free. He returned the book to the reference shelf and went to the pay phone in the hall outside. After four rings a strange female voice answered, "Bookman Supplies." "Could I speak to Mrs. Grainger, please?" "I'm sorry, sir. Mrs. Grainger was called out of town suddenly. Can I take a message for her?" "No, thanks. I'll try tomorrow." He hung up and stood for a moment, deciding how to proceed. A public rest room was just down the hall. It was a three-staller, he saw, standing in the door, and deserted at the moment. Quickly he stripped off his necktie, jacket and white shirt, burying both in the large garbage barrel halfway down the mass of soggy towels, along with the towels he and Lucy had soiled. Out came the spare shirt he'd meant to wear on the plane, dark plaid, totally unlike his tan suit jacket. He looked around. The rest room showed no evidence of his visit. He took up the briefcase and walked out. &lt;11:48&gt; He met several people, some vaguely familiar, in the building lobby. It was nearing lunch time, of course. He'd already noticed that maybe half the building descended to the surrounding restaurants to eat. That would serve him when he came back out, he thought; he could blend with the crowd. He saw no police, none in uniform, at least. He eschewed the elevator and descended the stairway, waiting until the hall was empty before opening the door. Above him on the stairs he heard laughter and footsteps: people descending from the mezzanine. Should've taken the elevator! He cringed away from the rail and nearly ran down the two flights to the door with the large green B. He pulled it open far enough and slipped inside, letting it sigh closed behind him. The corridor was empty. He paused to take a relieved breath and listened carefully at the steel door. Dimly he heard the transformer humming behind it. Finally he opened it just enough to put in his head. He saw no one. The furnace door was still slightly open, just as he had left it. The edge of it glowed from the light within. He entered the room fully and stood inside the closed door, listening, ready to spring back through it. The transformer hum was loud enough to grate upon his nerves. An idea struck him. He was just an employee of ... the shipping firm on the third floor ... ah, Northern Freight ... sent to the basement for a box of computer paper. A new employee. Now where would that paper be stored? Silently he lowered the briefcase to the floor beside the door and slipped down one narrow space between stacked boxes. He turned at the back wall and came forward on another aisle. Two or three such passes convinced him that no police had staked out the store room. He took a deep breath, opened the briefcase long enough to extract the disguising hosiery leg and pull it over his head. He marched to the furnace door, flung it open and peered inside, confirming what he now fully expected. Lucy Grainger lay naked on the canvas, still chained as he had left her. And the white metal key glistened below her, well out of reach of chained hand or foot. Though he had greased the furnace door to open silently, he knew that she heard a change in the transformer sound. Her head came around and her eyes locked with his. He bent onto the box and stepped down to the canvas. "Lucy, Lucy, are you truly that clumsy?" Her body lay smoothly rounded, nipples dark on the white skin gleaming with the slightest perspiration. He sighed. "You look good, Lucy. If I didn't have a plane to catch ..." She licked dry lips. "I wondered if you'd come back." Briefly he looked around. The money lay where he'd thrown it, the drink cans among her ripped clothing. Everything was the same. He stepped over her leg, stooped for the key. "All right. I'll unlock your right hand, but don't try anything. I'd hate to hurt you after all --" As he spoke he knelt, hands reaching for the manacle. He saw that there was something wrong with it, some strangeness in the geometry of hasp and ratchet. "What--" he started to interrupt himself. Her hand twisted and fast as a striking snake she slapped his outstretched wrist, snapping the manacle, whose wide open hasp had only been laid over her arm, tightly upon him. In the same motion, before he could overcome his surprise, she rolled away from him and bounced to her feet. He realized belatedly that she was free as a bird. She had obviously undone all four manacles! "What the hell --" He knew that his mouth was hanging open. He started to rise after her but was brought up very short by the chain on his wrist -- his right wrist, too. But he still had the key! He looked at her, expecting her to bolt through the furnace door. She only stood back, well out of reach, nakedly grinning at him. The little fool! He still had a chance. He forced the key into the manacle lock and twisted -- but it wouldn't turn! Getting a better grip, he tried again and again, varying the angle and depth of penetration, twisting so hard he bruised fingers and thumb and bent the key. All to no avail. She got up on the box, reached through the opening and closed the circular door that he had left open. She turned around, sat on the edge of the box and stared at him impishly from under the same hat, its lace now crushed beyond redemption. "What have you done to the key, Lucy?" She grinned. "What was it you said about fate delivering me to you? You may be right, Tiger. Fate is involved here. I knew it soon as you threw down that key. It looks identical to the one that opens my strongbox. But it's not identical, is it?" He regarded the key closely. "This is the wrong key?" "You just proved it, didn't you? The other consideration was my judgment of your character. You never told me a lie, Tiger, at least not about what you meant to do. That and the little speech just before you left suggested that you might actually have a conscience. Then, when I warned I might drop the key, you looked away! I decided, what the hell, it wouldn't cost much to find out. I could've gone to the cops -- still can, you'll notice -- but you were probably also truthful in your claim they'd never catch you. I'm sure you've taken many precautions. I was willing to wait all afternoon, but I did get thirsty. I'll tell you, Tiger, if you'd been five minutes later you'd've caught me going after that last pop can." He jerked on the chain hard enough to pain his wrist, but he knew as no other how well the chain was anchored into the firebrick. Still on all fours, he turned back to her. "Now what?" "Now you put on the other three, starting with your ankles." "What? You're crazy, Lucy, if you think I'll do that. I'll make a deal with you. Get dressed, throw me the right key, and make a run for it. I promise to leave you alone." She chuckled. "I don't believe you quite understand the situation, Tiger. I am a woman who's been most shamefully raped and abused. True, you've left little evidence aside from a few bruises, but--" she waved about her "--this could hardly be for anything else. If I run upstairs and start screaming, you'll think the whole world has fallen on you." He thought about it. "You said 'if.'" "That's right. It's up to you, Tiger." "If I put on the other manacles, you won't run to the cops?" "That's the deal." "How do I know you won't?" "In fact you don't, Tiger. But I'll tell you what you told me: I always keep my word. And if you don't put those manacles on now, I'm going to lower the boom." "But I'll miss my plane!" "You'll miss that either way." She watched as he resignedly squeezed the manacles closed over his ankles. He lay on his back and stretched out his left arm. "I can hardly do this one alone." "Yes, you can, Tiger. I know. I've practiced it. Open it all the way and lay your wrist on it." She squatted near his arm. Gathering his muscles, he made one attempt to grab her knee but his hand was inches short. She shook her head. "None of that, Tiger. Put your arm in there as I said." With ill grace he obeyed her. "Now bend your hand over the moving part and force it to close." She leaned over him watchfully. Suddenly her hand lashed out and snapped shut the slack that he had carefully left in the hasp. She raised up on her knees, grinning in satisfaction, then went to his ankles. Timing his motion he tried to snatch the foot out of the one left purposefully loose, meaning to trip her against him, but it wouldn't pass the heel of his shoe. In a moment she had caught the ankle and forced the manacle fully closed. Again she shook her head. "Did you think you could hold me with your foot, Tiger?" She stepped over him, reached down and pulled the hosiery from his head. He saw recognition in her eyes. "I've seen you before. You've been following me around, haven't you?" When he didn't answer, she smirked, "In some ways I know you better than I know anyone else!" She turned away from him and opened the garment bag. "I was afraid to check this out earlier. What've you got for me? Hmm. Interesting." He watched her don underwear, slip and dress. "It seems to fit fairly well," she admitted, "but it's not me! It doesn't match my shoes, either, not to speak of my hat. Damn it, Tiger, why didn't you bring a mirror? Where's your briefcase?When he remained silent she shook her head. "Cat got your tongue, Tiger?" Finally she took up the roll of bills and stuffed it into her purse without bothering to count it. She stood over him contemplatively, then knelt beside him and fumbled at his wallet. He heaved his hips against her legs. "Hold still!" she commanded crossly. In a moment she succeeded in removing the wallet, stood and placed it in her purse. "I'm going to get us some lunch. What'll you have, Tiger?" "Damn you! Give that back." She ignored his protest. "My stomach says it's lunch time and your wristwatch agrees. Want anything?" "Cheeseburger and fries," he gritted. "I'll see what I can do. Now don't go away, please." She grinned and passed up through the door. He saw the handle rotate behind her. But she was back immediately, bearing his briefcase. "Look what I found, Tiger! It's yours, isn't it?" Without waiting for his answer she popped the snaps and rummaged inside. "It's yours, all right. Here are those surgical shears. We'll have fun yet, Tiger." She laughed at his wince. "And you <do> have a mirror! Good for you, Tiger." She set the small camp mirror on the box and twisted this way and that before it, removing the remains of the hat and fluffing her hair. "At least you hardly bothered my lipstick," she observed, smiling at him. "Remember, now, stay put!" She took a paper from his briefcase before closing the lid. He recognized his air ticket folder. "That's useless to you," he complained. "You think so? Well, <you> don't need it any longer!" She disappeared again. This time he heard the change in the transformer hum that meant she had opened the steel door. He strained against his bonds, hoping in vain for some evidence of loosening in the brick, but succeeded only in reaffirming the excellence of his anchors. Soon he gave it up and lay panting, wondering what his fateful god had in store for him now. <14:22> "Well, it's about time!" he declared when he saw that it was Lucy Grainger following the armload of bags through the circular door. "Whew!" she breathed in relief, jumping down from the box on which she left her shopping bags. "Did you miss me, Tiger?" "I didn't think you were coming back." "And that worried you, did it? Oh, no, Tiger, I'll not be meaner than you. Here." She took a smaller bag from a larger one and approached but stopped just short of him. She contemplated his bonds. "Have you found a way to surprise me, too?" "You know better than that," he admitted. "I hope that's food." "It is. A cheeseburger with all the trimmings." She unwrapped the sandwich, stooped and held it for him to take a bite. While he chewed, she laid his sandwich on the canvas beside his head, rose and emptied another bag. She placed a carton of drinks in the cooler, took out the can remaining from the morning and opened it, stopping to give him a taste of it and to feed him another bite of the sandwich. To his surprise she began to remove the clothing he had bought her, hanging it carefully in the garment bag, pausing after each item to feed him another bite of sandwich or another sip of drink. On one such she grinned and said, "I think I'll keep calling you Tiger, though I know exactly who you are. I have a good friend in the county offices. She says your wife and you just sold a house in the Bluewood section. Moved out of town, have you, Tiger? Mind telling me where?" "Yes." "That's all right. I know where. You submitted a change of address at the post office. I know <all> about you, Tiger! I know where you went to school, where you've worked the last five years, where you work now. I'll bet your dean's eyes would pop if he could see you like this!" He sighed. "What do you propose to do with this knowledge, Mrs. Grainger?" "Oh, keep calling me Lucy. Or even 'my dear.' To answer your question, I don't know." She shrugged. "Probably nothing, unless you give me trouble." "Believe me: you'll never see or hear from me again!" "But what if I don't want that, Tiger?" "Huh?" She smiled enigmatically. "Did you think that only men have power fantasies?" "Power fantasies?" She waved at the walls around them. "That's what this is really all about." Her voice grew stern. "You don't have the <right> to satisfy your curiosity about women on any particular one, unless she agrees. The only way you can do that is to overpower her, as you did me. You arrogant bastard! Well, guess what!" He stared at her. "What is this, Lucy? Revenge?" "Exactly! And while I'm about it, I, too, have a few steps of curiosity to satisfy!" She glowered at him until his eyes dropped. "But first ..." She opened the briefcase, leaving it sprawled across the canvas, and took out the surgical shears. "What do you mean to do with that?" he asked, knowing the answer. She sighed theatrically. "Ah, Tiger, I do admire your hairy legs." The shears came ripping up his pants leg. He jerked but they veered away in time. She paused to open belt and fly before cutting across the zipper, then repeated the entire operation on the other leg. Pulling the tatters of cloth from beneath him, she observed aggrievedly, "You could lift your butt, you know." His undershorts were the work of a few seconds. As she attacked the plaid shirt, she said with a grin, "I got a surprising compliment because of you, Tiger. On my way out of the building I ran into Shirley Hastings, who hasn't been known to say anything kind in the last ten years. She swore that the peach flowers printed on your dress matched my skin perfectly, that I should wear prints more often. The funny thing is, I've never liked prints. They're too busy. I prefer simple, even severe, clothing. If surly Shirley is so overcome she has to compliment me for it, maybe I'd better buy some prints." He winced as the shear point nicked his shoulder as it left the sleeve, but said only, "Do you work with her?" "Used to. She's one floor down. I left and went with Bookman six years ago." "If she speaks to your boss -- if anyone else saw you going out at lunch time, how will you explain it?" "I'll tell them I was raped in the basement." "Will you?" She paused thoughtfully, hand gathering material to tug the shirt from beneath him. "Probably not, Tiger, though you've given me a problem there." "A problem?" "Yeah. Aunt Agatha died three months ago." "Uh-oh! I was afraid of that." "Were you!" She pulled the shirt remains free. "Your clumsy note goes best with a claim of being raped in the basement, especially since <my> fingerprints are not on it! But now Shirley has seen me in too good a mood to've just been raped. Can you remember the exact wording in that note?" "Uh. I think so. I wrote it several times. Let's see. I believe -- Oooh! That tickles!" The cotton undershirt would not rip. Cutting it up one side to the sleeve produced the complaint and a writhing torso. She lifted the cloth away from his skin. "Sorry. Go ahead." "It said, 'I just now received a call from Aunt Agatha -- actually from the hospital. They say her condition is even more critical than before and I shouldn't waste a moment. I'm sorry that you won't have better notice. I'll call you as soon as I can.'" "Huh! That would be fine, Tiger, if she weren't in her grave." "Do you have another aunt?" "No. She was the last." "Any relatives work with you?" "No." "Then invent one." "Do what?" "Make her your favorite aunt, helped your mother raise you. You say, 'I wrote that?' You were so distraught by the news that ... please excuse me, Mr. Bookman ... you were a bit confused and wrote Aunt Agatha's name -- you were just thinking how this resembled Aunt Agatha's case -- instead of Aunt ... Abigail?" "Hmm. Raise your shoulder." She pulled the T-shirt section from beneath him. "I don't care for 'Abigail.'" "Whatever, though it should sound similar. How about Agnes? Then apologize for not rereading it before you left. It would be better to tell him this over the telephone. Fairly soon." "Not too soon. Shirley won't see Bookman. Tiger, you're a slick liar. Is that what an English professor teaches?" "You may not have heard, Lucy, that I'm an amateur playwright." "Really! What kind of plays?" "Period pieces, mostly. Victorian era." She nodded. "That figures. When women had to submit, eh?" "Because in that era of primitive technology submission was to their clear advantage." "So <you> say! <I> say, along with Queen Victoria, 'We are not amused.'" "I'm sorry, Lucy. I'll try harder to amuse you." "Don't worry about that, Tiger. You'll start amusing me any time now." <15:04> When they had drained another drink can, she threw it aside and stood over him with a contemplative look. "Are you ready for Step One, Tiger?" "S-Step One?" She grinned. "Nervous, are you, Tiger? Let's find out if a nervous man is good for anything." She knelt between his legs and took the flaccid, nearly withdrawn glans between thumb and forefinger. "What a difference! I can understand why the girl was fooled." "F-fooled?" "Surely you've heard that one, Tiger. It's an old college story." "Unh!" "What's the matter? Did I pinch too hard?" "Would it do any good to complain?" "Oh, yes! Every bit as much as it did me!" He sighed. "Why don't you tell me the story?" "This skin certainly does stretch, doesn't it! ... You want to hear my story? The biology professor said, 'Let's see if you read the lesson, Miss Jones. Stand up and tell us what organ of the body can enlarge to ten times its smallest size.' Have you heard it?""I ... don't recall ..." "Miss Jones stands up, blushes and stammers. After awhile the disgusted professor says, 'It's the iris of the eye, Miss Jones, and I fear that you will be sadly disappointed.'" "That's good." "Then laugh." "Ha! Ha!" "Oh, Tiger! What happened to all that enthusiasm you showed this morning?" He answered dryly, "I am coming to appreciate your position of this morning." "Of course. You're lying in it. Is this a circumcised penis?" "Ah ... yes." "'Cord.' That's not a Jewish name, is it? Or did your folks change it?" "My family was never Jewish. Surely you know, Lucy, that by now circumcised gentiles outnumber Jews!" "How would I know that? As you pointed out, I'm not that kind of girl. If you're not Jewish why'd you get circumcised?" "Ah, Lucy. Only in America does a woman make such a decision." "Do you mean your mother had it done?" "Yes, before I was hours old." "Whatever for?" "It's supposed to reduce cervical cancer." "What kind? But you don't have a cervix!" "You've noticed! In fact that is one of my pet peeves." "Is that why you hate women?" "Dammit, Lucy, I don't hate women! Quite the contrary! Losing my foreskin wasn't my mother's fault. She merely agreed to a doctor's suggestion that padded his fee. The fault was widespread -- still is, for that matter. Early in this century medical researchers noticed that Jewish women never got cervical cancer. What was different about Jewish women? Jewish men, of course! Ever since then the motto has been 'Off with the foreskins!' No one seems to have considered that Jews have a very different culture, affecting all kinds of personal habits, including diet. Many things are different about Jewish women besides their men." "So you only hate Jewish women?" "Lucy, I swear to you that I don't hate <any> woman!" "Are you sure, Tiger? Not even me?" "Surely by now you know what motivated me this morning." "Tell me again." "Curiosity. Only that. I was kidding about the anger. If I had a woman's equipment, I'd be just as odd about it as she is... You feel curious, too, don't you?" She grinned. "But you had an advantage. The two or three porn flicks I've seen were interesting and, as you suggested, educational, but not something to hold your attention. Here I am with an opportunity I bet few women ever enjoyed, and hardly able to think of a <thing> to do! Guess I'll have to follow your lead, Tiger, with a few adjustments." "Ouch!" "Does that hurt, Tiger? I hardly squeezed them. Not nearly as hard as you squeezed my boobs. Ah, that feels strange!" He groaned. "They sort of roll over each other, like marbles in a bag, don't they? Why do they call them 'stones,' Tiger? They aren't nearly hard enough for that, are they?" "God, that's nauseating!" "Really? You feel it in your belly?" "Yes! Please ... You'll make me sick ..." She grunted in apparent surprise. "Look, the bag actually stretches, if you take it above the stones, like this. Too bad you can't see this." He groaned louder. "I can <feel> it! God, don't rip 'em off!" She nodded darkly, "That's how I felt when it seemed you would tear my nipples off. Hmm ... What does it take to make this get hard again?" "Ah, sexual desire." "You don't feel sexual desire, Tiger? Why is that?" He answered dryly, "Fear seems to inhibit it." "Fear? What are you afraid of?" "That's obvious." She waddled up over his legs and sat astride his hips, feet hooked over his thighs. "Even though you've got a naked vag -- pussy, you would say? -- rubbing your belly? Hmm ... I wonder if ... by god, yes, they do!" "Do what?" "You can see it if you raise your head. They harden like a woman's." "Are you surprised?" "Yes." She reached behind her. "But not your dick. Isn't this stimulating?" "It ... might --" "If you weren't chained down, eh? Oh, Tiger, I hope you see exactly how our roles are reversed." She grinned. "Now we find out who is the more cruel." "B-but ... didn't you just say you'd not be meaner than I?" "'Mean' and 'cruel' don't have exactly the same meaning, Tiger." She leaned forward and brushed the hair back that had fallen into his eyes. "For example, you licked me until I passed out. That was cruel but it wasn't mean." He chuckled weakly. "That distinction may be too subtle for me, Lucy." "Where are you ticklish, Tiger? I believe you said here ..." Her nails ran firmly over his ribs, retracing the earlier path of the scissors. He winced and twisted sideways. "Oh, god, I can't stand it!" She desisted with a smile of satisfaction. "To go on with that would be mean but not cruel. Do you see?" "Whatever you say, Lucy." "Hmm. I know who could teach you the difference." She raised up, squatting across him, apparently indifferent that her pubes opened against his belly. They felt wet. She hitched herself farther up his chest and took his chin firmly in hand. "You shaved this morning, did you, Tiger?" "Yes." "But I can feel the whiskers coming back." "It's called five-o'clock shadow -- at least after five o'clock." "They grow faster than on a woman's legs, I bet." "Maybe. I think it depends on the woman." "Open your mouth." He obeyed curiously. Immediately she thrust two fingers past his teeth and palpitated his tongue. "Hunh --" he began, wanting to ask what she was doing. She grinned at him. "You could bite my fingers off, you know." "Unh-uh." He shook his head slightly. "If you were crazy, that is." Withdrawing her hand, she leaned forward and presented her lips in its place. "Kiss me," she ordered. When he obeyed, her mouth opened and her tongue delved into his. After a few seconds she slightly withdrew and asked in evident dissatisfaction, "Why won't you put your tongue in my mouth, too?" Because you'd bite it, he wanted to say. Instead he took a breath and mumbled, "All right." Again her mouth closed over his. He slipped his tongue nervously between her lips. When her teeth closed on it lightly, he snatched it back. She giggled. "Don't you trust me, Tiger?" "I ..." "This is fun, a little bit, making you afraid. I'm surprised at myself. But when does a woman get to do it? Usually it's the other way around." "Lucy, I did nothing just to scare you." "Didn't you?" "I'm sorry if it did." "I'll bet you are now!" She sighed fretfully. "Lou could tell me what else to do with you." "Lou?" She cocked her head, regarding him thoughtfully. "I'm not kidding when I mention a problem with that. A girl imagines what a man will do to <her>." She held thumb and forefinger up before him, barely separated. "I came that close to inviting Lou over here when I talked to her this afternoon." "You what?" "Relax, Tiger. I didn't tell her anything. Not yet, at least. Her name is Louisa, but she says to call her Lou, even though it can be a man's name -- maybe <because> it can be a man's name!" "She's that kind, is she?" "Well, you wouldn't guess it by her looks. She's still pretty, with a full figure, though she's beginning to show her age just a bit. She had her tubes tied when she was young and claims it gave her very strong appetites." "For what?" "Everything. She's what the kids call a swinger." "Men <and> women, eh?" "Yes, and lots of them. You wouldn't believe her parties! But that's why she'd be helpful here. She's a great arranger. You ought to see her version of blind man's buff!" "I can imagine it. Lucy, I didn't think you were that kind of girl." "Oh, I'm not. I only went to one of her parties -- and left in the middle of it. But she still comes to see me once in a while. She likes to brag. To tell you the truth, I get a kick out of her adventures, but I'm too chicken to join them." "So she tells you all about it. What does she <do> to you?" She licked her lips and looked away. "Are you a swinger too, Lucy?" "Huh! Until today I thought I was a lesbian. You're the first man to have me since I went to that party." "Is that a fact! So you and Louisa get it on, do you?" "No. We only talk. I should've said, you're the first <person> to have me. But I wanted her to. I'm too chicken to tell her, that's all." She grinned. "But look at me now, feeling of a man wherever I have the yen! I'll bet Lou never had a man tied down to do with whatever comes to mind. If I got her in here I'll bet her chin would sag past her boobs!" "Lucy, you wouldn't ..." "Don't be too sure." Her eyes lit. "But she's the computer nut. I can <show> her!" She jumped off him and rummaged in his brief case, bringing out camera and tripod. "Tell me how to use this, Tiger." "Lucy, I don't believe I ought to do that." "Oh, no? Well, think about this, Tiger. Either Louisa sees you in the pictures or else she sees you in the flesh. Your choice. But I warn you. When she finds you helpless, she's liable to go wild. She might even want to keep your dick." He cleared his throat. "First you screw the camera onto the tripod." "Oh, I know about that. Tell me about the digital controls. What does the 'Mode' switch do?" "Bring it here." She held it close to him and he patiently explained the sequence of operations needed to make a picture and to display it on the LCD screen. When she stood back and aimed the camera at him, he called aggrievedly, "At least put the mask on me!" "The mask?" She lowered the camera from her eye and regarded him directly. "Wouldn't do any good, Tiger. She'll guess who you are.""She's my contact in the county offices." "Good god!" He turned his face away from her. "Too late!" she crowed. She took pictures from both sides, including close-ups of his face and pubic region. "Imagine Lucy Grainger photographing a dick!" she chortled. "I don't think I ever even used that word where a man could hear me before." "It's a childish word." "You don't like my language, Tiger? I can't tell you how sorry I am to hear it. This would photograph a lot better if it was hard. Make it hard, Tiger." He shook his head with a sigh. "I couldn't do that even to save you cutting it off. Especially not then." "Fear? You don't to need to fear me, Tiger." "Don't I?" "No more than I you. How do you attach the remote shutter?" When he had told her, she joined him in the subsequent snapshots, first kneeling over his shoulders and smiling proudly -- "Look at my trophy!" she cried into the camera -- then kissing him, then biting his nipple, and finally after careful arrangement, kneeling between his legs and looking up to the camera with nearly all the soft penis past her lips. She raised her head with a smirk. "I noticed that you didn't offer to poke your dick in my mouth while I was tied here! Why was that, Tiger?" "Huh! The reason is obvious." "Well, for your information I can bite it off now any time I want to." He took a breath. "I was thinking about that just now." She chuckled. "Did you think it would make a great picture?" He choked. "Surely that would be mean and cruel!" She took the wizened organ in hand contemplatively. "I've heard of women cutting it off an unfaithful lover. Lou says it's a common practice in Japan. I wonder how many times they actually bite it off instead. I wonder how hard it is to do that." Her teeth closed around the base. He groaned in anticipation, drops of sweat appearing on forehead and chest. But she only chewed lightly before releasing him. "I'll bet it's not too much trouble," she observed confidently, grinning at him, "no more than biting a chunk out of a turkey thigh. What do you think?" Explosively he released his held breath. "Oh, god, Lucy!" "Did I scare you, Tiger? Make your skin crawl? Good! That's how I felt lying there, too." "Now, Lucy, what did I do that scared you so much?" She thought about it. "Nothing, actually. It's what you might have done. The scariest thing was fear that you'd kill me to keep me quiet." "But you know I planned too well for that to be a problem." She grinned. "Do you think you planned well, Tiger?" He sighed. "I thought so. Now, of course, it's all undone." "Not necessarily." "What do you mean?" "It's not undone unless you undo it." He regarded her hopefully. "Will you explain?" She grinned sardonically. "What was it you said? 'I don't think I ought to do that.'" "Why not?" "That would be telling." "Unfortunately I can't threaten you with Louisa!" "No." She studied him thoughtfully for a moment, then turned to the camera, standing it to one side with the remote shutter control retained in her hand as she knelt on his opposite side. "Don't you need to pee?" she suggested. "Well ... yes." "Then go ahead." "Lucy, in case you hadn't noticed, men are different. It's sure to wet my leg, maybe my belly." "You mean you can't pee without handling it?" "If I was standing up ..." "Then it would droop, huh? Well, go ahead anyway. I'll hold it for you." She took him in hand. He shrugged and released his sphincter. He saw her hand close on the remote shutter control as she played the stream back and forth on the canvas. He asked, "Do you think Lou would enjoy this?" "I know she would. She did it to several men at that party I mentioned. Then she raised her leg and showed that a woman can squirt it farther if she wants to -- that Lou, at least, can squirt it farther." "A woman's urethra is much shorter." "Her what?" "Pee passage." "That's what she said, too! Hmm. I believe it takes men longer to go." "That's reasonable. Perhaps you could get your friend to do an experiment." She chuckled. "Think you'd like to go to one of Lou's parties, do you, Tiger?" "I might." "Finished?" she asked when his stream failed. He produced a final spurt before agreeing. "Will you try to beat my range?" he wondered. "No, I don't care who can piss farther. Lou loves to beat men at one thing or another, but I don't think men and women ought to compete, despite what the feminists say. Ugh! Your piss stinks!" "I'm sorry." "Did you think I was going to drink it, Tiger? As you reminded me this morning, I don't care for the taste of it. But there is something else I want to taste while I have the chance." She looked at him steadily. A pink spot appeared in both her cheeks. "Why, Lucy! Surely this doesn't embarrass you!" "A little," she admitted. "I've heard a lot of women describe it, but I've never tasted it myself. Some say it's good, some say it's awful, some say it's tasteless. I'm curious to find out. Can you do it again, Tiger, after this morning?" "I ... Maybe. It's been a couple hours, hasn't it?" She grinned. "If I promise not to bite it off?" "Especially that!" "But first ... You're right! I can think of other things to be curious about! What do you know about male anatomy, Tiger?" "Well, in case you've noticed, I have one." "Are you trying to be cute? Where exactly is the prostate?" "Ah ... Pretty much directly above the testicles, I'd say." "I've heard that you can feel it, if you press forward inside the rectum." When he was silent, she demanded, "Well, is that true?" "It ... ah ... may be." She grinned darkly. "I could get Lou to ask you, but there's another way. Why don't I just look in and see?" "You don't mean --" "But I do!" Grinning, she took up the tube of jelly and squeezed it liberally over her hand. "Now, now, Tiger, quit thrashing. As you assured me this morning, I won't hurt you." "Your fingernails are wicked!" She extended one hand. "Do you think so, Tiger? I try to keep them even, but it's a losing battle. I'll be careful. After all, I can put them in me without cutting!" She spent a moment positioning the camera. "Should've set the camera first. What d'you think, Tiger? Will this jelly hurt it?" "I ... don't know. Probably not. Of course, if you got it on the lens ..." She grinned, kneeling between his legs. "I won't do that. Now hold still. You wouldn't want me to look in the wrong hole, would you?" "What? There's only the one." "I meant this little teeny one right here. What did you call it, the urethra? Look at that! I can get my pinkie nail right in it." His tossing ceased abruptly. "Hmm," she murmured, directing her attention lower, parting his cheeks with the hand of the threatening nail while the other thrust forward. "You know better than that, Tiger. Loosen up!" After a moment she added, "That's better." "My god! What are you putting in me?" "Only three fingers ... so far. I thought I counted four in me, and your hand is larger! Hmm. There's a kind of a lump here, in front ... Feels like a groove down the middle of it. Does that hurt, Tiger?" "N-no." "Even when I press this hard?" "Well, a little." After a while the woman mused, "She was right!" "Huh?" "I'm getting a clear fluid. Well, almost clear." "I can ... feel it seeping. I've done this, too, with my thumb." "But it's not semen, is it?" "I don't know." She bent very low. Again he felt her mouth and tongue. Her hand, holding the remote shutter aloft, closed. When she raised her head, he asked, "Does it taste like semen?" She rose off him, spat in the corner, wiped her hand on a paper towel and retrieved a drink can from the cooler. She stood sipping it, studying him, and remarked, "Lou said you can get a man to come by fingering his ass. But it's not come, is it? You didn't feel a climax, did you?" "No." He sighed. "Lucy, you can read about that in medical books. The prostate makes a fluid that nourishes the sperm after ejaculation. If you squeeze the gland you force that fluid down the urethra." She continued to study him. "Three fingers were easy." He shifted restlessly. She held up the drink can. "I'll bet this would go in, too. See how gently rounded the bottom is, almost as if that's what they had in mind. Ever try one, Tiger?" "God, no!" "Let's find out." "For god's sake, Lucy, you'll freeze me to death!" "Oh, not this can, silly! There's a warm one over there in the corner. I'll even pee on it to make sure. Want a sip of this drink first?" "Yes, please." She bent and dribbled the liquid into his mouth. He sputtered, then turned his face away. "Lucy, it'll tear me." "Oh, I don't think so." She stepped over him, stooped and held up the speculum, squeezing its handles closed, observing with a smirk, "You did boast of putting it in you!" She held the drink can beside it. The swollen shaft of the speculum was clearly wider. When his eyebrows rose, she smiled sweetly and began to coat the can with jelly. He choked. She chuckled and again knelt between his legs. "Weren't you going to piss on it?" he wondered hastily. "Oh, it's warm enough. Raise up a little." "Lucy, this won't work!" "I bet it will. And it won't hurt as much if you cooperate. Don't clamp. Push out instead." He groaned as she worked the slippery can back and forth, her shoulders straining.She sat back, her voice lighter. "See! Told you it would go!" "God! Feels like you've shoved a brick up me!" "But it doesn't hurt, does it?" "How are you so confident of that? Had it done to you?" "<You> did it to me! Didn't I just show you that the can is smaller than the speculum?" "Umm." He was quiet while she operated the camera, which suggested another worry. "I once saw the x-ray of a woman's gut with a vibrator -- Lucy, please, please tell me you didn't put it in so far you can't get it out!" "Oh, no. All I have to do is poke my finger in the hole, pull hard, and ... out it comes." He groaned loudly as she suited action to words. "See?" She held up the greasy can, still impaled on her finger. Suddenly her expression changed to astonishment. "God, what a hole! Why, I could almost ..." "Lucy! What are you doing? You can't do that!" "Oh, yes, I can. Hold still, or I'll squeeze you where it really hurts!" After a moment of strenuous activity she was still. "There, Tiger! Past the wrist!" He groaned. "Good god!" "Do you claim that it hurts?" "I -- I --" "Well?" "Y-yes." "You lie. Lou and I did it to each other. It only hurts at the knuckles. We stopped at the wrist. I wonder ..." "Wait a minute, Lucy! Wait, I say! Put some more jelly on your arm and, for god's sake, keep those fingernails tucked in. A cut in there could be fatal, you know." "Only to you, Tiger." He choked again. She marveled, "I swear your dick has drawn up into your belly." "Wh-what are you doing?" "Slathering the jelly on, just as you said." Her free hand positioned the camera. She leaned forward again and he felt pressure increase in his belly similar to a gas cramp. "Please, Lucy! It's beginning to hurt." "Is it? Gotta make a picture of this. I'm up to my elbow! Where <is> that remote shutter?" She leaned down, laying her face on his thigh, grinning at the camera and working the shutter button repeatedly. "Lou would never believe this without the picture." She readjusted the camera to include his head. "This time I want <your> expression," she explained, suddenly withdrawing the captive hand as she snapped the shutter with the other, inducing him to produce his loudest groan yet. He opened his eyes to find her wiping her arm with paper towels. She grinned up at him. "What'd you think of that, Tiger? You ought to see the hole <now>!" "Oh, god, Lucy!" She nodded. "I know it hurts a little, but not for long. And from now on you don't have to sweat getting thrown in jail. No dick is as big as my forearm." He took a breath and said dryly, "So you've done me a favor." "Right! You do understand, don't you, Tiger? And as you said, I've satisfied <my> curiosity, too -- part of it. I bet not many women know what a <man> feels like inside!" "What <did> it feel like?" "Hard to describe. If I don't tell you, will you go home and stick your arm up your wife's bottom?" Before he could respond she added, "No, not your wife. Some other unsuspecting victim, huh?" He shook his head. "I've seen pictures of hands up women's bottoms, both places. The Internet is full of them. You didn't notice it, Lucy, but I put my hand past the knuckles into your vagina this morning right after I took the speculum out. A rectum, though ... The women who take hands there seem to be ... <coarse>." "Coarse?" She laughed in derision. "You think a woman is coarse if she lets men have their way with her?" "Well, when she's useless for any --" "After you <forced> me to do it?" Her mouth twisted and her cheeks pinked. Hastily he objected, "Who put whose arm up whose ass?" She took a deep breath. "All right, Tiger. Guess you think <I'm> coarse now." "No, no." "Well, maybe I am. And you're wrong if you think I didn't feel your hand in me. Look at this." She waddled up over his torso, until her toes fetched up against his armpits, and thrust a still greasy hand fully into herself. His mouth fell open in astonishment. "My god!" he exclaimed. "And you haven't even born a child!" "How do you know?" "Small nipples, smooth pink cervix, no mother's marks." She grunted, ceasing to argue, and stepped back. She held up a wet hand and chuckled. "This stimulates me." "Kinsey found that touch is woman's best stimulus." "Kinsey is obsolete. Bet he never stuck his arm up anyone's butt." "If so he never mentioned it. Did you try that hand trick first on yourself?" "After Lou showed me." "I can't believe how easily you did it." "Did I impress you, Tiger?" "I'll say you did!" She studied him pensively. "You know, I'm beginning to understand your motive." "Are you?" "When your partner is chained helpless to do with as you wish -- even to kill him, if that's what you want -- it makes a difference, doesn't it?" "A difference in what?" "In what you're willing to say and do. It makes you more honest." "Please, Lucy. You're scaring me." "Scaring you?" "If you get <too> honest, you'll never let me out of this cellar." She grinned but continued on her theme. "I misspoke. I mean it makes you <willing> to be more honest. Whether you are or not is another matter." Her smile vanished. "And there's something else. When you moaned and groaned just now, I ... think I felt sorry for you ... just because you were helpless. I think I even felt protective. Can you believe that?" "Protective?" "You'd better believe it! Else I'd've stuck it in you to the shoulder. Imagine getting to stick something in a <man>, for a change!" "What was it, Lucy, mother instinct?" "It could have -- Are you making fun of me, Tiger?" "Oh, no! I'm grateful for it, whatever it was." "You should be!" She eyed him thoughtfully. "Huh! I want a picture of that." So saying she settled the camera between his legs and snapped with one hand, eyeing the display from an angle, while the other hand held penis and testicles out of the way. "Am I bleeding?" he asked, biting his lip. "Bleeding!" she jeered. "You <are> very red in there! Hmmm. I'll bet I could put my foot in you up to the knee without any trouble. Next you'll tell me you've seen pictures of that, too." "I've seen a lot of pictures. Most of that kind were middle aged women who make their living by taking things into their anuses." "Their living!" She stared at him. "Who would pay them for that?" "Oh, there's a demand, all right. Would you be so kind as to put the corner of a paper towel in me and let me see it?" She shrugged. "Why not?" As she returned with the towel, she mused, "I thought they paid to put into vaginas! Or mouths." "As you demonstrated a moment ago, it's the young women who have the capacious vaginas. I guess the old ones do, too, but young vaginas are preferred." "I'd hate to earn my living by letting people put things in my ass. No blood. See?" "Yes. Thank you." <15:40> She stood the camera away from him and stooped to examine his wristwatch. "What's the time?" he asked. "It's later," she answered absently, turning back to the camera. She positioned it behind his left shoulder, looking down towards his crotch, and adjusted the framing and the height of the tripod. "Not four o'clock yet, is it?" Ignoring his question, she went to the cooler and took out a can. "Want a sip?" "Yes, please." She poured a thin stream into his mouth and took a swallow herself. She took up a handful of paper towels, knelt between his legs and carefully dribbled the drink can into his pubes, simultaneously scrubbing him with the towels. He heaved violently. "Good god, Lucy, that's cold!" "Sorry about the cold," she responded, still wiping him. "I just realized I'd rather taste sticky coke than the piss and everything else you've got on this thing today." "Ow!" "What now?" "It's burning my ass!" "Yes, I guess it would." She wiped more tenderly. "How long does it take an asshole to shrink back?" "I don't know. Not too long, I think. You said 'taste.' What are you planning, Lucy?" "I'll tell you." She raised up to look at him. "I'm going to find out what it tastes like. And I'm going to do to you what you did to me." "Wh ... what do you mean?" "You wanted to find out how it feels to go on after you've come. I intend to show you. Unless it tastes so bad I have to puke." "Unless what?" "But I don't think it will. Only one girl I know claimed it made her sick, but she admitted being drunk at the time." She had spread the remaining drink upon the canvas between his legs. After scrubbing it with the towels she stood erect and said in disgust, "This won't work. Is there any water on this floor, Tiger?" "Floor? Well, there's a rest room down the corridor. The toilet is dry but there's water in the sink." "I'll not lie in your piss, Tiger -- sticky coke, either." With that she took the print dress off its hanger and began pulling it on over her head. "Wait a minute, Lucy," he protested. "Don't go out there." "Why not?" She paused to regard him, peering out through the neck of the dress, now down over her breasts. "Because once in a while the janitor comes here to get out his next day supplies. That's why I asked for the time." "Thought you said you'd never seen anyone here." "Until the late afternoon." She slipped the dress back off her shoulders and stood with hair down in her face. "It's three forty." "If he's coming it could be anytime before five-thirty. I have a suggestion. Lie on me. Reversed." She cocked lip and eyebrow. "Would you bite me, Tiger?He answered dryly, "I doubt even the wildest tiger would bite the one who has his dick in her mouth." "You have a point." "And close the door tight, will you?" She snorted. "Listen to who's giving orders!" But she rehung the dress. Climbing on the box, she sealed the furnace door and closed the latch snugly. Turning back she stood over him and asked in a lowered voice, "Could he hear us talking?" "Not over the transformer hum." "What if I make you scream?" "I ... I don't ..." "You made <me> scream, didn't you?" "Ah ... I don't remember." "Yes, you do." He sighed. "The janitor might've heard you. Of course, we know he didn't." She nodded then asked, "Does light leak out of here?" "No. Didn't you notice as you brought in the groceries?" "I didn't see any." She regarded him speculatively. "You know, it's really to your advantage for us not to get caught." "I know that," he agreed. "To yours, too." "How do you figure that? Because of what's in the camera?" "Because we're just about even." "Do you think so?" "Don't you?" She didn't answer. After a moment's contemplation she mused, "It's interesting how things work out, isn't it, Tiger?" "Oh, yes," he agreed. "Interesting!" "You're about to learn more than you expected. And you should be properly grateful." "For the education?" "For my restraint." "I --" "You may not've thought of it, Tiger, when it was your turn, but <I> did! You said you were curious. Biting your dick off is nothing. I could take those scissors and find out what you're <really> like inside." "Ah, uh --" She grunted. "What big eyes you have, Tiger! Have you ever cut a woman up?" "No! Of course not!" She nodded. "That has the ring of truth. But why not, if you're so curious about us?" "Well, the medical books are full of pictures of cut-up women. There's nothing sexy about them." "Exactly, Tiger." "Why 'exactly?'" "'Nothing sexy!' " she repeated, adding with a sneer, "You and your claims of 'almost scientific' curiosity! It was never anything but plain, ordinary rape, Tiger: what you did to me and what I'm doing to you. It's the way kids play with beetles: poke 'em and see how they jump. That's what rape is, you know." He stared at her, unable to think of an immediate retort. With a chuckle at his expression she stepped over him to his shoulder, turned about and sank on her knees beside him, then stretched out with her thighs over his shoulder. Her elbows spread beside his hips. She grunted when she took him in hand. "Can a man come without a hard-on?" "Yes. In a wet dream. Or if ..." "If what?" "Before it can harden if it's handled vigorously enough." "Hmm. I see. I think." Lips enclosed the head, fingers the short shaft. The fingers fluttered longitudinally, the tongue radially. "You could enjoy this, too," he suggested, "if you'd shift your hips over my face. You certainly don't have to worry about <me> biting!" She released him long enough to reply, "No, thank you, Tiger. This time <you're> the guinea pig." "It'll make me come sooner." Her mouth and hand resumed without comment. Soon, however, she drew up a knee and centered her hips on his chest. Her cool thighs closed about his ears. She wriggled backward until the sensitive folds met his thrusting tongue. He knew her intention and feared for his sanity if she succeeded. Once a playful Vietnamese whore had tried to keep him in suction as he flooded her mouth. It had suddenly become the most unbearable experience of his life, never since equaled. Now it threatened to repeat, and this time he couldn't slap the hungry mouth away. He worked his own tongue furiously in the scented flesh, hoping to distract the woman from her plan. But his argument to her had been only too accurate. The odors in his nostrils were decisive. His third climax of the day spurted uncontrollably into the strong suckling mouth. For a moment he withstood it, as pain appeared in counterpart to the fierce pleasure. Howling unconsciously, he threw his head back against the canvas, bones creaking under clamped muscles, his whole being a solid mix of agony and delight. He saw flashes of color in the instant before all awareness departed. <16:17> He felt her weight depart him and heard the sound of the cooler disturbed, followed by the hiss of an opened drink can. He felt drained of energy but the pain was gone. He raised his head to the sound and blinked his eyes open. She was watching him, the can to her lips. "Want some?" she asked, gesturing it toward him. "Please." She bent and dribbled it between his lips. Cool and sweet, it burned his tongue, reminding him of another contrast. Licking his lips, he said, "I passed out." She snorted. "You sound surprised." "I only passed out once before in my whole life." She cocked her head. "The same way?" "Oh, no. Would you believe a gas cramp?" "A gas cramp!" "Fell straight off the john and smashed my nose on the floor." She chuckled but suddenly grew serious. "Did I hurt you?" "Terribly. But I don't need to tell you about that, do I?" "No, you don't. Is your curiosity satisfied?" He took a breath. "At the last I saw stars." Her eyes flickered. "So did I." "Did you! What about your curiosity? How did it taste?" She thought a moment. "Flat. No flavor. I was surprised." Her lip twitched. "Lou claimed it would taste like bouillon." "That was my third time today. Maybe the first is more flavorful." "Don't <you> know?" "Mmm. Not really." "In that case you can show me tomorrow." Wide eyes searched her face. She grunted. "Don't look so worried." She set the drink can carefully aside, got to her feet and took down the hanger of her clothing, saying, "No more games, Tiger." "What do you mean?" But she only proceeded to dress herself. She erected his mirror on the entry box, knelt and ran fingers through her hair, patting it this way and that, muttering, "Why didn't you bring a comb? Never mind, I know why. Why do you cut your hair so short?" "It's how my wife likes it." "Hmpf! I don't think I like her much. This wouldn't've happened if she had sucked your dick like a good little wife." Her petulant tone encouraged him to ask, "Lucy, you're not really sorry, are you?" She regarded him narrowly. "You wish!" She began to unscrew the camera from the tripod. He wanted to ask if she meant to let him rot there. Instead he wondered, "If you had a husband, Lucy, would you suck his dick?" "And swallow?" she added with a sardonic grin. She shrugged. "Why not?" Her grin brightened. "It's kind of neat, isn't it? Licking a twat can get your whole face wet." "So can a dick." "Not the way <we> do it!" "Lucy ... ah, if you want to please a man you should let up when he comes." "Who's worried about pleasing?" She let the tripod fall to the canvas and slipped the camera into her purse, taking something out. He recognized his wallet. She faced him, compressing her lips. After a moment she said, "I made a copy of your driver's license and university ID just in case, because I found my address on a paper next to the credit cards. Did you plan to catch me at home, too? If you did, that's the 'in case.' I put everything back that I took out except the note with the address." She laid the wallet on top of the cooler and retrieved another item from the purse. It resembled -- "This is your plane ticket. It's still good. I rescheduled you. I've marked the flight number on it. You have plenty of time -- if you don't kidnap anyone else." "Never again, Lucy." "Yeah, I bet!" "Lucy, you're a marvel! You rescheduled me?" She shrugged. "I'm an experienced secretary, after all." She stood over him, purse in one hand, shoes dangling from the other. "And now an experienced cock sucker. Huh! We know more things about each other than most married people." "Yes, we do." "Damn you anyway, Tiger. Don't you ever grab me that way again!" "I hope ... I'd like to see --" "To see me again? Ha! What you really hope is that I leave you the key." He licked dry lips. "Yes." "I actually thought about unlocking you, let you leave with me. There's clothes for you in that bag." She paused. "I don't <think> you'd hurt me now." "No." "But you'd take the camera away from me. I want those pictures, Tiger." "You can have them." "I <will> have them." She laid shoes and purse on the stepping box and took out a key. She bent and unlocked the clasp on his left ankle, opening the restraint and pushing it away from him with her foot. "See? It's the right key." "I see." She walked carefully around him and stood next to his right hand. "I'm not coming back, Tiger." "You aren't?" "So don't screw it up." "I won't." She sighed. "I can't take the chance you'd drop it." She placed the key in the palm of his right hand and closed his fingers over it. Instantly she snapped herself erect, bending away from his feet, presumably in case he should try to kick her, and dashed to the box. In five seconds she had opened the portal, scooped up purse and shoes, clambered outside and clanged the iron door shut behind her, all without a backward glance. <Epilog> Returning from a lecture, he found a plain package delivered to his office desk. It had been addressed in a woman's handwriting, though not Lucy's, and covered with postage stamps, suggesting that the mailer had avoided the post office window. No return address was evident.It contained his camera, apparently undamaged, packed with plastic popcorn into a reused shipping box whose previous labels had been carefully removed. On his home computer he proved that indeed the camera still worked, but the pictures he and Lucy had taken were gone from its memory. On a hunch he widened his regular scans of the Internet news groups. In a few days he decoded a first of series from alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.bondage. With an electric thrill he saw unmistakably his own face, head raised, eyes clenched shut, behind the view of a merry-eyed Lucy, one of his nipples between her teeth. When the shock subsided, he spent a moment admiring the crispness and depth of field before finding the article header. But the file had been posted anonymously through a remailer. The putative Louisa was indeed a computer expert! An hour later he downloaded the "morning" Lucy, face mask blurred, breasts sagging to either side as mature ones do when the owner is on her back, but birthmark and gaping vagina sharply focused. He recalled snapping that one just after removing his whole hand from her, while wondering if the camera was stopped down enough for adequate depth of field. Apparently not. The entire series appeared over the next week. When it was complete, he counted eight in which his facial features were recognizable. He squared mental shoulders and waited for the inevitable denunciation. But recognition depends also on environment, or so he was able to conclude when a year had passed without incident. Apparently no one connected a respected English professor, always carefully formal with students and faculty, to this hapless wimp who couldn't get it up even with an enthusiastic woman sucking his balls. Lucy's body showed to advantage. Its velvet texture was evident despite the digital grain. The pictures in which she was prominent, whether "dominatrix" or victim, were quite popular, appearing many times over the next several months, reposted in many erotic newsgroups by many viewers, few of whom took the trouble of anonymity. But these were merely copiers. Nothing was revealed of the ultimate source. It had been a risky experiment, he decided, one that furnished all the knowledge he'd hoped -- and then some. It had fortunately ended without exacting the terrible price anticipated after Lucy closed the manacle over his wrist. Curiosity satisfied, he vowed never to take such risks again. Then came a night with the Message light blinking on his answering machine. He played it back and heard Lucy's voice. "The basement baggage is available," she intoned as if reading a script, "for access at seven P.M. on the twenty-fifth." Baggage indeed! With those few words his hard-won contentment vanished. Dread warred with anticipation. He opened a desk drawer to verify that he still had the key to the building. Of course it was where he had left it, though somehow his pistol had shifted partly over it. He knew then that, whatever the decision, his life would never again be the same.

MF nc

Part 2 of 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16811.txt

MAW

Hypno Celeb 28: Uma Thurman

Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains graphic descriptions of sexuality. If this offends you, leave now. This is fiction. Hypnosis does not work this way. If you feel like trying this, seek help. A special favor to a fan. Hope he likes it as well as everyone does. The idea came to me suddenly. I might return to it sometime. "What makes you think this is going to happen?" the editor asked. "I don't want a photographer getting a sunburn on a tip." "Relax," the voice on the other end of the line said. "She'll be there. Trust me. Now, are you going to give me the money for it." "Look, pal, I'm not going to hand over half a mil just on your say-so of what's going to happen, okay?" "Tell you what, I'll call you tonight and see if you've changed your mind." "You're that confident, aren't you?" "I'm that good. Talk to you later." Uma Thurman watched as the sun rose. It was gorgeous, the red disk slowly coming over the skyline. It was made all the more beautiful by the awesome expanse of water before it, reflecting the sun. Uma placed a blanket on the sandy beach and sat down. She wore a white bikini underneath a white robe. Her small bag held a book, sunglasses, lotion and other items handy for later. She was glad she'd taken the advice of her friend and done this. A relaxing beachside resort and a beautiful sunrise made this a terrific vacation, just the thing to get off the studio grind for a bit. She figured she'd stay for a while, then head back to the hotel for a bite and come back to sunbathe. "Stunning, isn't it?" Uma looked up at the young man who was suddenly standing next to her. He was tall and handsome, wearing a pair of swim shorts and a t-shirt. He had dark curly hair and an accented voice Uma couldn't quite place. "I come here often," the man said. "This spot is usually deserted this time of morning. It's so wonderful just to watch the sun rise. God's work at its best." He sat down next to Uma, extending a hand. "George," he said. "I work at the hotel." "Uma," Uma replied, shaking his hand. "What do you do?" George shrugged. "I'm sort of a jack-of-all-trades. All sorts of odd jobs around the place. Garbage disposal, clean-up, emergency driver, that sort of thing. It's not glamorous, but it pays the bills." "Sounds a bit like my job," Uma said. She continued to gaze at the sun rising over the water. "Amazing." "Indeed," George said. "You don't really want to watch the sun itself. You want to watch the water. Just take a look at it. It's amazing the way it changes as the sun rises. The long glow becomes brighter and brighter. You can begin to see the sunlight glinting off the waves now. You can see it. As the waves come washing forward, you can see the light glinting off the caps. You can see the waves of light and water beginning to come in, slow and steady. Slow and steady. Just keep watching the shore, watch as the waves break. The light shines off them as they approach, it becomes brilliant as they cap, then they wash away only to be replaced by new waves. Wave after wave. Wave after wave. It's so relaxing just to watch the waves coming in. Waves of light and water. Light and water. Wave after wave. Just keep watching them coming in, Uma. On after another. One after another. Waves of light. Waves of water. Waves and waves, on after another." Uma's eyes were firmly fixed on the ocean, her beautiful face relaxed, her lids drooping slightly, a tiny smile on her face. George reached a hand up and gently began to stroke the back of her neck, keeping his touch light and smooth. "Just keep watching the waves, Uma. Watch them come in, wave after wave. Watch the light gleam in those waves, light after light. As you watch the waves and the light, Uma, you are beginning to feel sleepy. Very sleepy. It's still early, you didn't sleep much. You feel tired, Uma, so very, very tired. Your eyes feel heavy as you watch, so heavy. You watch the waves, the nice, wonderful waves, and you feel so very, very sleepy. Your eyes are getting heavier with each wave coming in. So heavy. So very heavy. So heavy now, you can't keep your eyes open. Close them, Uma. Close them and let yourself go to sleep. A wonderful sleep. Sleep." Uma's eyes blinked twice, then closed. She slowly fell back and George caught her, gently placing her down on the sandy ground, her dark hair framing that gorgeous face. George slowly began untying the robe around Uma as he spoke. "Uma, you are asleep. You are in a nice, wonderful sleep. It's so nice to be in this sleep, Uma. This is the most wonderful sleep you've ever had in your life." George untied the robe and opened it, showing the white bikini underneath. "Uma, in this sleep, you are feeling horny. Very horny. In fact, you've never felt this horny. You love to feel this way and you want to feel it more. And the more you feel it, the further you fall into sleep. That's right, Uma. The hornier you feel, the more deeply you fall into sleep. Just let yourself feel this way, Uma. Let yourself feel and fall so very, very deeply asleep." George took a few more moments of soft talking until he was satisfied Uma was under enough. "Uma, you are about to feel me touch you, kiss you. You will not try to stop me. In fact, you want me to touch you. The more I touch you, the more turned on you will get. You will become so very turned on, but you cannot cum. Do you understand, Uma? You cannot cum unless I tell you to, no matter how much you want to. Do you understand?" "..Yes.." Uma whispered. George bent down and kissed her. He pushed his lips down on her and enjoyed the sigh that came as he did. As they kissed slowly, George embraced Uma and lifted her up. He slid her hands out of the robe, letting it fall to the ground. As she wrapped her arms around him, he unsnapped the back of her bikini and then slowly lowered her back to the ground. He pulled the bikini top off and let her large breasts free. Uma sighed as her breasts were exposed, then moaned as George buried his head between them. He kissed both nipples long and slow as he pushed her mounds together, enjoying how they felt. He continued to play with her breasts for a few more moments before rising and moving down to her lower region. He took the bikini bottom and slowly slid it down Uma's legs. As he pulled them down, he let his hands drag down her thighs, knowing it turned Uma on more as her clit was exposed. Undressing in a flash, George slid his hands underneath the nude Uma and squeezed her buttocks together, eliciting a slight gasp. He moved his head in and bestowed a series of kisses on her pussy, ignoring the tastes of sand that occasionally crept in. He continued to mouth her clit as his hands alternated. They'd massage Uma's cheeks, then slide down her thighs, then back to her cheeks. Uma arched back in the sand, moaning. She was ready to cum, but was forbidden by George's hypnotic command. Instead, she moaned in waiting as George continued to eat at her. George took Uma and kissed her again on the mouth, rolling them over so he was on his back with her on top of him. Uma sat up and placed herself right onto George's hard-rock cock. She slowly began shifting herself on top of him, rocking into a gentle rythym that he matched. George's hands moved up Uma's body as she continued to ride him, pushing together her breasts. He squeezed them, an action that seemed to push Uma on. The hypnotized woman was in total ecstasy by now, actually in pain wanting to release. George waited until he felt himself reaching the crest, then spoke. "Uma, cum." Uma burst into a cry as she felt herself release, a reaction that coincided with George's cumming, resulting in an incredible orgasm. After another riding session, George told Uma to get dressed. Once they were both dressed, he spoke to her in a soft tone. "Uma, when I kiss you, you will slowly rise into a lighter sleep. In twenty minutes you will awaken, you will feel fresh and relaxed and at ease. You will not remember anything that has happened here. You will simply remember taking a nap on the beach. You will not notice any stains on your body or cramps you may feel. You will be perfectly at ease with your body. In fact, you will be so at ease, you will want to show off your body. You have a beautiful body, Uma. You feel no shame with it." He mentioned a certain part of the beach frequented by topless women. "You will go there this afternoon and you will be topless. You will show off you wonderful breasts and feel no shame about it. Remember that, but nothing else.George leaned forward and kissed her, feeling her go limp in his grasp. He lowered her to the sand and walked away. Four months later, George opened his mail and found a package. Inside was a check for $500,000 and a copy of Playboy, showing a topless Uma splashing on the beach. Attached was a note. "It was worth it." "Indeed it was," George said. Smiling, he went to his room to read his magazine and relive a great moment.

MC,MF

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/8817.txt

MAW

Hypno Celeb 49: Tyra Banks

Not to be read by anyone under 18. This story contains graphic descriptions of sexuality. If this offends you, leave now. This is fiction. Hypnosis does not work this way. If you feel like trying this, seek help. This story is based on two separate manufactured images at www.Privatepages.com. It's also a direct sequel to my previous story. All comments and suggestions/scenarios are welcome. Enjoy. From the moment Rob entered the office, people could see the change in him. He seemed happier, an extra bounce in his step. He warmly greeted everyone he could, smiling and joking. It was a welcome sight from the dour man who had spent too long caught up in divorce proceedings. The vacation had done a lot of good to him. How much good, they'd never know. "Hey, Rob!" Rob's boss, called to him from his office. Rob entered, shutting the door behind him. "What's up?" he asked. "I didn't expect you back so soon. You still had a few days left on your vacation time." "Ah, I pretty much exhausted myself on fun down there." That was one way of putting it. In the week since the mysterious old man had given him the disk, Rob had been using it on various women. It had worked to perfection and now it was time to test it on some favorites of his. "Say, today's that suit shoot, right?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "Oh, yeah, no wonder you're back now," his boss said. "That was your baby. Good job." "Thanks. Can I stop by?" "Sure, have a treat. Say hi to the crew for me." Rob nodded and left the office, his mind whirling with the possibilities. As soon as he entered the photo studio, Rob knew exactly who he was going to pick. Although there were several beautiful women there, one caught his eye instantly. Tyra Banks wore a black blouse with a black mini-skirt as part of the shoot. It blended well with her brown skin, her long black hair falling to her shoulders. Rob leaned against a wall and watched as she posed for a few pictures for the photographers. Finally, she was done and she walked off to the side. Rob kept an eye close on her, waiting for his opportunity. He got it when she walked out of the studio, heading towards the restrooms. Rob followed her and waited outside the ladies' room. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the talisman. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and hoped his erection wasn't too visible. Tyra walked out of the room, giving Rob a minor glance. "Tyra?" he said. Tyra looked back at him. She seemed slightly taken aback that he would call her by her first name. "Yes?" "Hi, I'm Rob. I designed the campaign. It's nice to meet you." "Sure," Tyra said, half-heartedly shaking Rob's hand. "What can I do for you?" "Oh, just look at this," Rob said, holding the disk up by its chain. Tyra's eyes reflexively glanced at it, as Rob knew she would. The disk began to glow, the colors shifting while the spiral began to spin lightly in place. Tyra's eyes widened slightly as she took in the disk's glow. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as the disk's spell took hold of her mind. "Tyra, how do you feel?" Rob asked. "Wonderful, Master," she said in a soft voice. "Tyra, what are you willing to do?" "Anything you ask of me, Master. Your will is my will." "Good, good." Rob wanted to take her right then and there, but he knew she was going to be expected back soon. He moved forward and felt her breasts underneath her blouse. She sighed gently as he squeezed them, massaging them with his hands. He let go and stepped back. "Tyra, where are you staying tonight?" Tyra told him the hotel and room number, which he instantly memorized. "Tyra, when I snap my fingers you'll wake up. You won't remember what happened here but you will wish to be alone tonight. You will not go out and you will not expect company. You will wear exactly what you are wearing now. When you see this disk again, you will instantly fall back under my spell." Rob snapped his fingers and Tyra blinked, clarity returning to her features. She walked past Rob, not even glancing over her shoulder at him. Rob smiled and hurried to the men's room before he ruined his shorts. Rob walked down the hallways of the hotel, humming. It had been agony waiting for the day to end, but he was finally ready. He walked up to Tyra's room, straightened his tie and knocked. Tyra opened the door, confused as to who was calling. Rob held up his disk and she instantly fell back into her trance. "Let me in, Tyra," Rob commanded and she stepped aside to let him enter. Rob held up the disk, holding it so Tyra could see it glow as brightly as possible. "You're feeling very sexy now, Tyra. You're feeling very aroused. You want sex, very badly. You want sex right now. You want sex with me. Now, undress." Tyra unzipped the front of her top and took it off. She slipped off her skirt and sat on the end of the bed, wearing purple bra and panties. "Take off your underwear, Tyra," Rob said as he disrobed. Tyra unsnapped the back of her bra and let it drop, freeing her large breasts. She slid the panties off and sat nude, waiting. Now undressed, Rob stared at the glamorous model, her long dark hair just touching her gorgeous breasts. Rob leaned forward and kissed her. They made a few hesitant moves before pushing their lips together, their tongues twisting around. Rob leaned her down on the bed and lay on her. He broke off and began laying his mouth along her breasts. He kissed the pert nipples and licked his tongue along the curves of the large mounds. Rob had been holding himself in all day and had to let go. He pushed his cock into her pussy and slowly began rubbing it in and out. He buried his head in her cleavage as he did, inhaling her scent. She pushed against him, her breasts crunching around his head, her pussy riding more into his cock. He came almost immediately, a slight disappointment until he realized that Tyra wouldn't mind if he went for more. He pulled his cock out of her trembling body and placed it on her chest. He began to drag it up and down the sensitive area in between her breasts, semen trailing in its wake. She moaned slightly as he pushed her breasts together, around his cock. He increased the motion, letting the tip of his rod skim along her dark skin. He tickled the nipples as he pushed her tits closer. He finally came, shooting cum onto her chest, the white liquid coloring her dark skin. It was another passionate lip-lock after that, broken when Rob decided his cock needed cleaning. He dangled it before Tyra's face. Before he could utter a command, she took it in her hands and rubbed it, her fingers massaging the pulsing member. He could feel himself build again under her touch, her fingers pinching at his balls. "Take it in your mouth," Rob ordered. "Suck it." Tyra obediently wrapped her lips around the hard rod and took several long, slow suckles at it. Her tongue circled around as she moved her lips up and down his member. He felt himself let go before he expected it, his cum spilling down her throat. After she had licked away all traces of his cum, he took out his rod and kissed her again. They soon fell asleep in a tangle of limbs. Rob's final thought before drifting off was to wonder if the company's plans to hire former Playboy models would work out.

MC,MF

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/10545.txt

LM l

Charmed Life

One Friday evening not too long ago, Lisa told me that she was too tired to go out for some dinner and a movie. Lisa had a long and stressful week at work, so I had no problems with her request that we stay home that evening. Thus, I opted to camp out on the sofa in the living room and watch some television. Basketball! Lisa was in and out. Sometimes she would watch the game with me; other times, she was milling around the apartment, doing things. I find it flattering that Lisa will watch basketball with me, because she has no interest in the sport. But Lisa will watch basketball with me because she considers it as us spending time with one another - doing something TOGETHER. Of course, I make similar sacrifices for her. It is not often that you see a 23-year-old guy at an Ice-Capades show, you know. But all of this is off the topic... Back to the night in question, Lisa left the living room at halftime of the basketball game. Then, I did not hear a peep from her for over an hour. All of a sudden, however, she spoke behind me, "Jeremy, I'm going to take a shower." Laying on the sofa, I could not see her behind me. I just heard her statement, and replied in a leisurely tone. "Okay sweetheart, take your time." Next, I focused back on the television screen. My favorite team was playing! Several seconds went by until Lisa spoke up again. "Would you care to join me in the shower?" My eyebrows raised at the sexy, sultry tone of voice she had just used. Would I care to join her? Would I ever! Whether my favorite basketball team was playing or not... it did not matter. Not with such a great alternative..... Quickly, I sat up on the sofa and looked at her. I had to suppress a lustrous smile... Lisa was standing at the beginning of the hallway - completely, gloriously nude! "Last one in the tub's a rotten egg!" she giggled, before darting off down the hallway. I couldn't help but to laugh now, while turning off the television via remote control and getting up myself. This wouldn't be the first time Lisa and I had taken a shower together. But it's still very exciting for me, just to even think about... let alone actually do. Once in the main hallway, I could already hear the shower running in the restroom. I took my shirt off and dropped it upon the floor along the way, then went into the restroom and found Lisa in the shower herself. She had the foggy glass door closed, but giggled and waved at me anyway. Within seconds, I was completely nude as well, ripping off all remaining clothes and tossing them onto the floor. I then opened the sliding glass door far enough so I could slip into the shower. Quickly, I closed it behind me. It took me a few seconds to adjust to the hot water which shot down onto me from above, especially since I was used to the cool temperatures throughout the rest of the apartment. But before I could think much about that, Lisa was in front of me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pressing her full breasts hard against my chest. I slipped my arms around her as well, and then her mouth found mine for a deep and loving kiss. Getting frisky in the shower is one of Lisa's favorite activities. I never really gave much thought to the idea until she suggested it to me, a few years ago. Since, it has become one of my favorite activities as well. The hot shower water was shooting down onto her shoulders and back, but I could still feel it hitting my body too. It is very erotic to do this sort of thing in the shower... I can definitely attest to that. I moaned against our shared kiss once Lisa slipped a hand between our pressed bodies, and found my cock. Her long, sleek fingers encircled it, and offered a firm squeeze. I moaned again, and this time, I watched as Lisa's brown eyes opened and looked directly into mine. There was a sparkle in her pretty eyes, and she even giggled through the kiss upon giving my hardening shaft another squeeze. Her long blonde hair was already soaked, so I gathered a clump of it with my right hand and pressed it against her back while increasing the ferocity of our kiss. My tongue dove deep into her mouth, wanting to taste its sweetness. Lisa's tender hand continued pumping my cock as our tongues swirled and twirled around together, in a mixture of love and passion. The thick steam which had engulfed the entire restroom was not solely because of the hot water. (!) I felt a washcloth against my shoulder, and broke the kiss to look down and notice Lisa holding it there. Her hand was no longer on my enlarged cock. I then looked into her eyes, and she offered me her patented flirty smile. "How about giving me a washdown, Jeremy?" My eyes opened wide at her request. "What?" she laughed, in a teasing voice. "What did you think? I called you into the shower just for SEX?" I had to laugh at her tone of voice. She was trying to be cute, and was successful in her attempt. "No, Lisa," I replied through a smile. "No, of course not. Sure, let me soap you up, and I'll be happy to wash you." Lisa gave me a humorous, sneery grin before turning her back to me. She gathered her long blonde hair and placed it over her left shoulder, so it hung down in front. This way, I had full access to her back, and did not have to worry about her long, beautiful hair getting in the way. I got some liquid soap from its container and began to spread it all across her back and shoulders. The water was now beating down onto her flat stomach, and I watched and heard her moan while spreading the gooey gold liquid into her soft skin. Eyes shut, she arched her head back slightly and let out another moan. I could tell that Lisa was truly enjoying herself at this moment in time. She squealed and grinned as I placed the washcloth upon her back and began to slide it around, working the soap into her pores. Her eyes opened and she looked back at me, then offered a big smile as I rubbed and caressed her back with the washcloth. I pecked her lips with a quick kiss and then nuzzled my face against her neck, my hand in constant motion. Needless to say, my erection was at full strength now. And Lisa was making me even more excited - playfully jutting her bottom back against my shaft in a continual manner. Once her back was completely lathered up with the soap, I slid both hands down to her hips, the washcloth in one of them. This time, I pressed myself hard against her bottom, my enlarged cock trapped between us. I slid the washcloth around her hips, my mouth busy kissing her ear and cheek.My shaft still pressing hard against her bottom, I moved both hands up and encircled her breasts with my palms, the cloth still in one of them. I cupped and squeezed her large breasts, and then she squealed as I slid the soapy washcloth through her ample cleavage. Lisa's hands soon covered mine, and then all four moved in sexual unison as I squeezed and rotated her luscious breasts. "You like this?" I whispered in her ear. "Hmmmm," she purred, nodding her head in the affirmative. "I love you, sweetheart," I said, kissing her neck. "I love you too, Jeremy," she responded in kind. "I'll always love you," I added, emphasizing the point. "Always and forever, I'll love you, sweetheart." Lisa moaned and turned around, then kissed me once more. The shooting water was now centered on her back again, and it rinsed her skin free of all the thick soap as we kissed. I dropped the washcloth, then cupped and squeezed her rounded, firm bottom with both hands. She sighed against me in response, but continued forth with the kiss. Not for long, though. Seconds later, Lisa broke the kiss and then took a page out of my book, planting several kisses along my neck and shoulders. I do that to her quite often. I ran my fingers through her wet hair, watching the water shoot down onto her upper back and neck as she kissed me. I massaged her scalp - rubbing and digging my fingers against it. Then, I felt her right hand enclose around my enlarged shaft once again. I sighed and cupped her head in response. Suddenly, I found the hot water beating down onto my own stomach. I looked down and noticed that Lisa was now on her knees, her hand busy pumping away at my cock. I sighed as my body shivered in lust, and I had to hold onto the nearby towel rack just not to fall over, and keep my balance. The shower water slid down my frontside, over and past my cock, but that did not stop Lisa from giving me yet another splendid offering of fellatio. Her lips wrapped themselves around my pulsating cock, and then her head started bobbing back and forth, like a swinging pendulum. I still held onto the nearby metal rack - not wanting to become too lightheaded and subsequently lose my balance. Lisa simply loves to give blowjobs to me. There is no doubt about that, either. And there is also no doubt, in my mind at least, that she is the absolute best when it comes to giving head. Certainly, I have not had any better. I arched my head way back and let out a loud sigh as she continued her expert oral work. Her tongue and lips, along with the added stimulation of hot shower water coursing over my shaft, brought a quick and unexpected orgasm. Lisa momentarily gagged as the first cum-shot erupted from my shaft, certainly not expecting one quite yet either. But she quickly adjusted, and started guzzling my cream down her willing, greedy throat. The cum spurts eventually grew weaker and weaker from me, but her head kept bobbing back and forth, much like a machine. A blowjob machine! She quit, however, and looked up at me with a saucy, sexy expression. That sight started another erection for me. I reached down and grabbed her shoulders, then pulled her up into a standing position. Next, I embraced her and once again, offered a deep and passionate kiss. I was very hungry for what her mouth had to offer. Lisa could give me a blowjob from now until the end of time. Me, I could kiss her mouth forever, and never become complacent or bored. I was very content with this specific kiss, but Lisa had her hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me away. That broke the kiss and then she pushed down on my shoulders, making me drop to my knees. Then, Lisa brought one leg up and placed her foot upon the edge of the tub, and gave me a heated expression. I knew what she wanted. The hot water beat down upon her back as I moved my face between her outstretched thighs. I spread her tiny slit with fingers from each hand, then started lapping away. Lisa's body tensed and she moaned as I feasted upon her delicious treasure box. I kept one hand in close, and used it in unison with my lips and tongue, sliding a finger in and out of her. My other hand was on her bottom, gently squeezing and pinching its supple, tight flesh. Eating Lisa, I could already tell that she was wet... and it wasn't because of the water. I could taste her own love juice - it was slowly seeping out as I licked away at her delicious slit. I wanted to make her explode, though... just as she had made me explode minutes earlier. So, I increased the tempo, and really began to work on her pleasure cove with my mouth and finger. Lisa cried and shrieked in passion above me, then almost lost her balance. She had to grab onto the same towel rack that I had used, and it helped maintain her footing. I really had Lisa rocking in passion and lust - my mouth giving its best effort to please her. Thus, I was quite surprised when Lisa suddenly opened the shower door and quickly stepped out. I had to collect my senses for an instant before looking out at her. She already had a towel in hand, and was drying herself off at a maddening, furious pace. "Let's play hide and go seek!" she exclaimed, like a small child. "If you can find me, I'll give you a surprise!" With those words, Lisa dropped the towel and darted out of the restroom. Hide and go seek? She was being playful now, and I had to laugh out loud while replaying her statements in my mind. I already knew what that "surprise" would be. It was a special place where my cock enjoyed being inserted into. I turned off the shower water and stepped out of the tub, and then gave myself a quick rubdown with a towel as well. I dried myself off more than Lisa did herself, though. My next move was to exit the restroom. I walked over to the bedroom and glanced inside, but did not see Lisa. It was the natural place to look first. Then, I went to the laundry room and looked there. Again, no sight of her. "Where are you, my little sex toy?" I called out, in a teasing voice, while walking toward the living room. "I want to claim that special surprise you promised me. Where are you?" She wasn't in the living room or the dining room. I looked in the kitchen, and she wasn't there, either. I checked the two side closets. Nothing. Having given a look to every room, I went back to the restroom and felt for a wet spot on the carpeted floor. Lisa had not done a good job drying herself off. I found a wet spot, and followed its trail to the bedroom. Ahh, she was here. I should have SEARCHED it earlier, I thought. Sure enough, Lisa playfully screamed and giggled once I found her laying on the floor, on the other side of the bed. "I want that surprise!" I said in a forceful but playful voice, pulling her up to me. Gently, I pushed her down to the bed, onto her back. Then I got onto the bed, on my knees, and positioned myself between her widespread thighs. Suddenly however, it seemed, Lisa changed her mind. "I want to be on top," she said, rolling out from under me. "You can be on the bottom this time." It didn't matter to me. I let her position me flat on my back, upon the bed, and then she straddled my hips, her slit hovering just over my bulging cock. Lisa moaned and sighed in pleasure as she lowered herself to my shaft, it sliding deep up into her. Once firmly implanted in her, I reached up and found her hands with my own, and grasped them tightly. The expression upon Lisa's beautiful face tightened as she started to bounce up and down upon my erection. I held her hands firmly, and she did the same to mine, as we tried to catch a rhythm together. I ground my hips in a constant circle as Lisa continued bouncing, wanting to create as much movement and excitement as possible for her. Lisa squealed and cried in lust as she started bouncing faster. It truly was a beautiful sight, to see her face awash with passion, her breasts hopping and romping about wildly, her wet hair flying, as my hard cock filled her up. Still grasping my hands, Lisa brought her own hands to my chest and leaned against it for support as she continued impaling herself upon my shaft. I still rotated my hips, and occasionally jutted them upward, which always brought her a quick jolt of erotic pleasure. We had caught a rhythm. "Let go," Lisa breathed, still bouncing. I complied, releasing her hands. She responded by placing her hands underneath my arms and then my shoulders, and bringing me up into a seated position. Lisa embraced my body with her arms and wrapped her long legs around my waist, but still managed to keep my shaft inside her the whole time. In this position, both of us sitting up, our faces were directly in line with one another. This gave us the chance to share another kiss. Of course, we took that opportunity. As Lisa continued her bouncing action, I reached downward and roughly gripped her bottom. Using my strength, I made her bounce even faster, which only increased the already heated passion between us. When Lisa screamed against our shared kiss, I knew that her orgasm was imminent. I waited a few seconds for her explosion to commence. When it did, I let myself go as well. Both of us writhed together in mutual climax, clutching and embracing each other very tightly. I now had one hand on her back and the other upon her bottom, squeezing it very gently and soothingly. Both of Lisa's arms were around my shoulders and neck, hugging me like a prized possession. My mind in a daze, and sapped of most of my strength, I pulled my mouth away from hers and let out a warm, contented sigh. Lisa sighed as well, and then gave me a soft kiss. "I love you, Jeremy." I smiled at her. "I love you too, sweetheart. Now... and forever.We embraced again, but this time slowly went down to the mattress and rolled onto our sides, facing each other. It was time for a much needed rest! After regaining our strength, Lisa and I got up and went back to the restroom, and actually took a real and complete shower. We started one earlier - kind of - and now just finished it off. I washed her hair, which I really enjoy doing, and then she washed mine. Afterwards, Lisa and I dried off and then had a snack, before heading off to bed... where the two of us made love together, again. I really do lead a charmed life. [The End]

M/F, romance

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12473.txt

MAW

Hypno Celeb 37: Daisy Fuentes and Kennedy

Hatred was too strong a word for how Kennedy felt about Daisy Fuentes. Envy, definitely. Maybe a little anger. Kennedy was rather jealous of Daisy's good looks and the way she charmed the audience. Those long legs, the dress with the slit along the legs, the long dark hair framing her beautiful face. She was the kind of woman that begged other women to hate her. Unlike most other women, though, Kennedy had a way of getting even. She was backstage at a taping for MTV, watching Daisy wrap up a video set. Kennedy wore a pair of silver pants and a matching coat. Her curly black hair frizzled around her and a pair of her trademark big-framed glasses covered her face. She watched as the director yelled "cut" and the shooting wrapped. Daisy walked over to the refrigerator just off-stage and Kennedy decided it was time to make her move. "Hey, Daisy," she said, walking up behind the Latina woman. "Hi," Daisy nodded back. She and Kennedy didn't really know each other well, but she didn't judge people by reputations alone and kept her mind open. "What're you doing here?" "Looking for you," Kennedy said, which was the truth. "Heard about that Olympic special they want you on, thought you might want some info." "Oh, yeah, I heard you were at Nagano. How was it?" "Eventful," Kennedy said. She watched as Daisy poured herself a coke. A director suddenly called for Daisy from the set, needing a last-minute sound check. As Daisy left, Kennedy reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial. She tipped it into the drink, a bright pink that soon faded into the dark color. It looked completely normal by the time Daisy came back. She immediately took a long sip. "So, what'd you want to talk about?" "Let's sit over here," Kennedy suggested, pointing to a couple of vacant chairs. She and Daisy sat down and Kennedy began to talk about her Nagano trip. Daisy continued to sip at the drink as Kennedy talked. She didn't notice Kennedy's staring at her. In fact, she was beginning to notice very little. A fuzziness filled her mind and her entire body felt suddenly lethargic. The sounds around her faded away, with the exception of Kennedy's voice. The drink slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor. Kennedy had found the drug in a small village just outside of Nagano. She had been wary of its claims, until she had seen the shopkeeper demonstrate it on her boss. The formula was quite old, but worked exceptionally well, cutting off the willpower and rendering a person compliant to someone else's will. This was the first time Kennedy had decided to use it on someone since getting it and she was pleased at the results. "Daisy, can you hear me?" "Yes," Daisy replied. She had a faraway look on her face and appeared totally relaxed. "Daisy, will you do anything I say?" "Anything you say." "Daisy, stand up and follow me." Kennedy began walking down the hallway, the entranced Daisy behind her. The two VJs made their way to a small, deserted office. Kennedy knew the occupant wouldn't be in for a while and they were guaranteed some privacy. The office wasn't opulent, but it did have something Kennedy wanted: A long padded sofa. Kennedy began to strip, pulling off her jacket and pants as Daisy stood, oblivious, in the middle of the room. Kennedy pulled off her bra, showing her small breasts and slid her panties down, exposing the Republican elephant tattoo just above her pelvic region. Sitting down and preparing herself, Kennedy gave an order to Daisy. "Strip, Daisy. And as you strip, feel yourself growing more and more excited towards me. As you strip, you will be hot and you will want sex. With me. Now. Strip." Daisy pulled the straps off her shoulders, one at a time. The dress first fell to her waist, letting her braless breasts fall free. She then pushed it down her legs. She slid the dark panties down her legs and stood nude. Kennedy beckoned her over and Daisy obediently approached. Kennedy took her in her arms and pulled her down, kissing her. It was a warm kiss, the two pushing their lips and tongues together to mix passion. They pulled closer, Daisy pushing Kennedy against the back of the sofa. Kennedy lowered them both down to the sofa, pushing Daisy on her back. She pulled off her glasses and buried her head in between Daisy's breasts. She massaged one mound with her hand and kissed the other. She suckled the nipple, enjoying the feeling as it tightened in her grasp. She squeezed the other breast as she mouthed, eliciting a moan from Daisy. Kennedy moved down Daisy's body, pushing her down the couch as she kissed the sunken belly. She kissed the dark patch before putting her mouth right up to the pussy. She began to lick at it, moving her tongue in slow motions around the twat. It intensified the pleasure Daisy was beginning to feel. She writhed on the couch, her hair falling past the edge and to the floor as Kennedy ate her out. Kennedy ran her hands up and down Daisy's thighs as she continued, her tongue beginning to fill with sweet taste. Daisy threw her head back as she came, spilling onto Kennedy's waiting mouth. Kennedy climbed up Daisy's body, pulling her up so her head was safe on the couch. She straddled Daisy and lowered her pelvis onto her face. Daisy began to lick, hesitantly at first, with slow jabs, then faster, her tongue working in and out. Her fingers found Kennedy's ass and squeezed it, as Kennedy ran her fingers up and down the tattoo, as if that would help her cum faster. She rocked gently on Daisy, her asscheeks bouncing on the other woman's breasts. Daisy matched the rhythm with licks of her tongue as Kennedy felt herself begin to release. She spilled right onto Daisy, her body trembling as she did. Kennedy quickly dressed and wiped Daisy's face off. The effect of the drug would wear off soon and Daisy would wake up with no memory of what had happened. Kennedy walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She smiled as she walked down the halls, wondering at Daisy's reaction to waking up naked in a strange room. Kennedy might not have been so happy if she knew that she wasn't the only one who had the formula. Someday, perhaps soon, the piper was going to collect.

MC,FF

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/9502.txt

Mark S. Ogilvie

elvira and the witches kids, pt 5 (battle with mutated aunt, bondage, shrink/grow)

"Okay, why the blindfold?" Elvira demanded. They were walking down some sort of corridor, she could tell that by the smooth carpet under her feet. There was also the slightly musty smell that permeated most of Carrion Mansion. Once again she flexed her arms, but once again they stayed bound. Elvira was bound with a solid wooden bar laid across her shoulders and a harness criss crossed between her breast. Each arm was bound the length of the bar with velcro straps. Given some time alone the young girl knew she could work loose, but the kids weren't giving her that time. "It's meant to keep your escape potential down." Jeremy said. Elvira could picture his deceptively cherubic face as he talked. Slim, red haired and green eyed he looked harmless. His sister was much the same, though her hair was just past shoulder length. "Jeremy subscribes to Abductor Monthly." Helga said from the other side. Briefly Elvira considered smashing them with the wooden rod, but decided against it. She would have to take them both out at once, and there was little hope of that. "According to recent studies the blindfold decreases your escape potential by 20%. Your nudity adds another 20 to 30% of deterrence." "Always nice to have statistics." Elvira said sarcastically. It was still a little embarrassing to be nude in front of them. That two children had taken her prisoner, even if they had used magic to do it, was infuriating. Even now she could feel Jeremy's eyes on her. She was good to look at Elvira knew. Five feet six in her bare feet, her body compact, but shaped well. True her breast were considered small by Hollywood standards, and her hips a little too wide, but there had never been any complaints. At least not in the last 24 hours, and more people had seen her naked lately than normal. Of course of those people one was a mutated lady spider, another was an invisible tickler, and the last one was the spirit of Englishman channelled into the body of a teddy bear. Given all that it was doubtful that she would have heard any complaints anyway. "So why are we going to the lab?" Elvira demanded. "I'm normal size now." "We know, but Jeremy promised to bring Lucretia to life." "It's her unbirthday present." "Oh great, a mad scientist who reads Alice in Wonderland. Do you know what I'm going to do to you two after I get loose?" They stopped for a moment and Elvira heard clanking noises. "Hello children." "Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse." Elvira whispered, her heart jumping. "Aunt Petunia." Helga gasped, confirming what Elvira had guessed. "That's right Helga." Suddenly Elvira felt the two children leave her. She could guess why. After she had first been shrunk the baby-sitter had run into Aunt Petunia. The woman had been mutated by Helga and Jeremy. Their aunt had been shrunk to about a foot tall and had grown an extra set of arms. She also had the ability to create webbing. Elvira had fallen into her web and only escaped by licking the woman into an orgasm. From the sound of Petunia's voice the babysitter guessed that, like her, Aunt Petunia had grown. "I got to thinking after Elvira left me, if the potion worked on her it might work on me. A quick drink later and here I am." There was a whipping sound and Elvira felt a wind go past her. She stood absolutely still as the sound of a struggle rose to it's height, then quickly abated. For a few moments there was silence. "Who won?" the young girl asked. "Do you really need to ask?" Aunt Petunia said, whipping the blindfold off. Elvira felt the air leave her lungs. Aunt Petunia had not only regained normal height, she had gone beyond it. At least seven feet tall she still had four arms. She had also grown an extra pair of breast. Large and firm with wide pink aeroles and slightly indented nipples. Her figure was firm, muscles rippled under the skin Elvira could see. And she could see it all. The sheer volume of the woman was intimidating. But it was muscle, not fat that the baby-sitter saw. There was a tangle of hair between her legs could have swallowed the young girls face. Her feet were huge, the toes as long as a childs fingers. "Hi..." the baby-sitter stuttered. "You seem to... Do you..." "Remember you?" Petunia smiled, stroking Elvira's breast. "Your the young girl who treated me to one of the best orgasms I've had in years." She took hold of Elvira's nipple and pinched. "Then tied me up and tickled me into slavery." Pinching the nipple fiercely Petunia forced Elvira to her knees, then on her back. Releasing her hold the woman grabbed Elvira's legs and webbed them together. The webbing had grown with Petunia, it was as thick as clothesline rope. And at least as strong. After Elvira's legs were secured from her ankles to just below her knees Petunia lightly stroked her feet. "I did warn you what would happen if I ever got you in my web didn't I." Leaving Elvira's feet the mutated woman ran her tongue over Elvira's pussy, easily parting the hair. While she explored that area two of her hands kneaded the young girls breast. "What about the kids?" Elvira gasped out. "Yes your right." abruptly Petunia stood and walked over to Jeremy and Helga. They were both little more than white cocoons and she hefted them easily. "I'll be back." she sang as she walked away. It took a little while but Elvira finally freed herself from the bar, unscrewing the connecting bolts. She was in one of the corridors of Carrion Mansion. Ten feet wide and fifteen feet tall, with dark wood paneling the mansion was a model of Victorian splendor. Suits of armor lined the walls, alternating with family portraits. Elvira rolled over to one of the armor suits and started to use it's sword to cut through the webbing. It took a while, even though the sword was sharp. Once that was done the young girl stood up and looked around. No one was in sight, and there were no suspicious sounds. For the first time in what seemed like years Elvira relaxed. Then she started to head back to her own room. "I say, excuse me." Elvira stopped as part of the wall opened and a teddy bear walked through it. He was about a foot tall, with a tweed vest and cute button eyes. "Hiya." Elvira said, continuing on. "You must help, Aunt Petunia is planning something terrible for the youngsters." "Good, maybe she'll let me watch." "I say!" he started to follow her. "Young woman that is a most deplorable attitude." Somehow the tubby toy managed to draw himself up and look down at her. "You cannot abandon that responsibility." Elvira opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. He was right. She didn't like it but he was right. "Where are they?" "In the solarium. Miss Petunia is laughing in a most unseemly manor." "Ok, let's get to my room first and then to the solarium." "Of course." Mr. Bear said, leading the way. "You must have some terrible weapon in your room." "Something like that." Elvira said. A little while later Elvira and Mr. Bear peered cautiously through stained glass. The solarium was located on the east side of Carrion Mansion. Dark stained glass three stories high caught the moonlight, turning the interior into a stark white graveyard. Vague images on the glass showed scenes from Dante's Inferno. There was a sunken fountain in the center of the room. A stone woman lay under a murderers ax, her throat spraying water into an onyx basin. Elvira, dressed in the oversized hockey shirt she used as a nightgown, shuddered. The jersey had been the only piece of clothing she could find in what was left of her room. That and the hockey stick she nearly always carried. The stick usually made her feel secure. Not now. Aunt Petunia had erected a giant web across the solarium.the bottom were two struggling cocoons that must have been Helga and Jeremy. Just inside the window near the floor the mutated woman adjusted two giant lenses. The lightening sky told Elvira what Petunia was planning. "She likes cooked kids," she whispered. "Indeed," Mr. Bear said. "In fact, I do believe she was trying to do this when the children first shrunk her." "I don't suppose it's going to be a cloudy day," Elvira sat down and brought her knees up to her chest. "Clear and mild with temperatures in the 50's," Mr. Bear said. Elvira stared at him and he added, "I am the butler, it is one of my duties to know the weather." "Of course," she peered through the door again. There was no chance of her taking on Aunt Petunia. Not in a fair fight anyway. "Teddy..." "Mr. Bear, please." "Mr. Bear," she continued through gritted teeth, "go to Jeremy's lab and get me either a jar of feathers or that super soaker filled with the shrinking potion or both." "At once, madam," the bear lumbered off and Elvira glanced into the room again. The sky was rapidly growing lighter with the promise of a new day. Rising, the baby-sitter quietly jogged down the hall, stopping at the first door. As quietly as possible, she unscrewed the doorknobs. From the solarium, she could hear the theme song to "Friends". It was sung off-key and sent chills down her spine. "I hate that show," she half whispered, half snarled. With the doorknobs free, she crept back up the corridor. Minutes passed and the sky grew lighter. With a splendid vista of colors, the sun started to rise. In practically no time at all, the solarium was filled with a golden glow. It shone through the stained glass, making the torments of hell dance with eerie life. Aunt Petunia sang as the sun rose, switching from the "Friends" theme song to "Seinfeld". "You know I really am looking forward to this," she said, giving Jeremy's cocoon a poke. It shuddered and struggled in response. "Little children are oh so sweet and tasty." Sunlight hit the lenses at that point, and a small star was born on each cocoon. Almost instantly, they started to glow with heat. Then one of the stars was shattered. In shock, Aunt Petunia turned to the doorway. Standing there, Elvira took careful aim and let loose another wrist shot. It shattered the second lens. "How dare you!" Aunt Petunia growled. "Friends, Seinfeld, and now a cliche?" Elvira stood with the hockey stick ready. "Lady, you need help." With a snarl, the mutated woman leapt at her. Elvira dodged and parried with her stick. It threw her opponent to one side, but before the girl could brace herself, Aunt Petunia was on her. The hockey stick was thrown out of her hands. They rolled on the ground, wrestling. Elvira quickly found herself on her back. Two of Petunia's hands held the baby-sitter's wrists above her head. Elvira's ankles were held tightly by Petunia's elongated toes. Unfortunately, that left Elvira stretched out and helpless, with the last set of Petunia's hands free. "Maybe I'm not that hungry right now," Aunt Petunia purred as she slowly lifted the jersey up Elvira's body. She spread her legs out, forcing Elvira's legs apart as well. Slowly, the spider woman rubbed her pussy against Elvira's. The jersey was pulled up under her arms, exposing the young girl's breasts. Aunt Petunia bent down and took one of the breasts in her mouth, nibbling softly at the oversized nipple. "Forget it, lady," Elvira said, her voice hanging coldly in the air. "Right now I'm picturing Rush Limbaugh humping Roseanne." "Hmmm!" Petunia let out a long sigh. "Sounds like fun." Lightly, she reached down and stroked Elvira's sides. "In fact, it sounds funny." Clenching her teeth, Elvira tried not to laugh. She had lost count of the times laughing her way to an orgasm had caused her to shrink or grow. She couldn't afford to shrink now, and even if she grew, it might not be enough. Aunt Petunia was persistent though. One of her toes stretched around and stroked the soles of Elvira's feet. That was it. Elvira started to giggle. Then laugh. Soon, time lost all meaning as the baby-sitter's nerves screamed at her. When finally Aunt Petunia bent down and took Elvira's breast in her mouth, she found it full and stiff. Elvira moaned through her laughter as her nipple was sucked and teased. "Stop, vile creature!" Mr. Bear ordered. Shocked out of her arousal, Elvira wrenched free of Petunia's grasp and rolled away from her. "Good timing, Teddy." "Mr. Bear..." Elvira interrupted him by grabbing the super soaker out of his hands and firing. "Shrink, baby, shrink!" she shouted. The stream of liquid shot out and hit Petunia in the chest. The woman's body shook, then glowed. Then grew. Before Elvira's eyes, Aunt Petunia expanded, not stopping until she filled most of the room. "Didn't you get the shrinking potion?" "I thought I did. You did specify the super soaker, did you not?" "The fault is not his, my dear," Petunia's voice reverberated around the solarium, making the glass vibrate. "What you did not realize was that a second dose of the potion would have a different effect on my already mutated form," she smiled, showing a row of fangs. "No harm done." "Give me that!" Elvira shouted, grabbing the mason jar from the teddy bear. "Penna Titilare Aunt Petunia!" she shouted, unscrewing the jar. At once, the feathers swarmed out and surrounded the giant woman. Petunia screamed and thrashed, her scream turning to laughter as the feathers tickled her from all sides. While she laughed, Elvira darted forward and grabbed Jeremy and Helga's cocoons. Dragging them out of the room, looking back, she could tell Petunia was lost in the tickling high. The glassy look in her eyes told Elvira she was nearing the limit. A sudden idea came to Elvira. Grabbing Mr. Bear, she threw him onto Petunia's chest. "Go for the nipples!" she shouted, following him. While Mr. Bear rubbed for all he was worth, Elvira leapt to the woman's pussy. Pulling off her shirt, she used it to rub the sides, stimulating Petunia even more. It took a few minutes, then there was a shriek, and suddenly Petunia shrank. It was even quicker than her growth. One minute she was gigantic, the next she was lying exhausted in Elvira's palm.

M/F+ sm tort ws spoof hardcore cons

Part 5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/7014.txt

Voyeur Mailman

The Rubdown

Jared Thompson grinned at Marie, "Thanks for the ride home, I appreciate it!" he said as he climbed out of the car, putting most of his weight on his right leg. "No problem." Replied his best friend's sister. Said best friend, Jason, was already slipping out of the back seat and into the front passenger seat vacated by Jared. The door was barely closed before she was off, leaving Jared standing on the sidewalk in front of his house. Marie was two years older than Jared and Jason, and was driving the car her parents had just given her for her 16th birthday. She was a real fox, and Jared had had the hots for her for over a year... but she had little interest in her kid brother's friends. After all, Jared was only 14 and far too young for her to notice. At least she's cool towards his brothers' friends, he thought, even if she'd never date me. She was cool enough to give him a lift home when he'd pulled a leg muscle shooting hoops with some friends in the gym after school. Sighing in the usual frustration most boys that age have when fantasizing about hot older girls, Jared turned and headed up the walkway to his front door, limping and favoring his left leg. Opening the front door, he stepped in, tossing his book bag on the couch. "Hi, Mom." Mrs. Thompson looked up from where she stood at the bottom of the steps, "Oh, hi, Jared. How was school today?" "Eh, the usual." He replied, glancing over at his mom. She was dressed in a short bathrobe, and had her hair up in a towel. It was Thursday, and Jared knew she always showered after doing her housework, before heading out for her weekly get-together with her friends. He headed towards the stairs. "Jared?" inquired his mom, noting his limp, "What's wrong?" "I think I pulled a muscle in my thigh this afternoon. It's pretty stiff and sore." "Do you want me to give you a quick rub-down? I know how bad pulled muscles can be." Jared paused, then looked up at her, "Would ya'? That'd be kewl, mom, cause it really hurts." "Of course, honey. You go up to your room, I'll be there in a moment." When Mrs. Thompson entered his room several minutes later, minus the towel from her hair, she found Jared lying on his bed, still dressed in his gym workout clothes: a long, sleeveless sweatshirt top that showed his well-muscled young arms, and a pair of baggy nylon shorts. His Nikes were lying on the floor beside the bed. Jared was rubbing the thigh of his left leg slowly. Mrs. Thompson came up and sat on the edge of his bed, near his left side, setting a bottle of Johnson's baby oil on the table nearby. Jared smiled up at her, "Thanks, Mom." Her long, dark hair was the same dark brown/black that Jared wore short, and glistened damply in the sunlight streaming in through the window. Her eyes were green, compared to Jared's hazel. "Now, where does it hurt?" She asked, and moved her hands to the inner thigh of his leg, where Jared was pointing. Though Jared was only 14, his legs, like the rest of his body, were fit and firm, quite strong. She could feel the tenseness in his muscles there, though, and reached for the oil. After soaking her palms in it, she placed her hands on his thigh and began a slow, firm, methodical rubdown of the whole upper leg. Jared sighed, moaning softly as his mother's surprisingly strong hands began rubbing away the tension and soreness. As she rubbed up and down, her hands brushed at his nylon shorts, pushing them up partly. She couldn't help but notice... the shorts were baggy, loose and oversized like many boys his age liked them... glancing at the open leg of his shorts, a glimpse of his penis. Mrs. Thompson tried ignoring it, but she couldn't help it. The more she rubbed, the more his shorts rode up and gaped open. At one point, she could clearly see the head of his cock as it extended down one leg, quite limp. It was then she noticed the baby oil beginning to stain his shorts. She paused, thinking, her common sense at war with her frank curiosity and... something more. Suddenly, she decided, "Jared, it'd be easier for me if you removed your shorts so I can give you your rubdown easier and not stain your shorts with oil." Jared surprised her by readily agreeing, "Okay, Mom, if you say so." She'd have SWORN she saw a grin on his face, quickly hidden, as he lifted up his butt and slipped his long shorts off. Mrs. Thompson barely concealed her gasp of surprise when it became obvious her son wasn't wearing underwear beneath his shorts. There, open to her full inspection, was his surprisingly large, very limp cock hanging over his balls and along his left thigh. It must have been a good 4 or 4.5 inches long and more than an inch thick... fully limp. Her little boy, her young teenaged son, barely 14 years old, certainly wasn't 'little' anymore. Trying her best to be a good mother, Mrs. Thompson did her best to ignore it and keep rubbing, as if nothing unusual was happening. She continued rubbing and massaging his thigh, his whole upper left leg from knee to pelvis. As she watched, his limp penis twitched... then twitched again. As she rubbed, it began to swell, getting larger as it lazily rolled up along his thigh and up onto his stomach, where it continued to harden and stiffen until it pointed up towards the head of the bed. Fully erect, it must have been nearly 8" and quite thick. She couldn't believe it... he was much bigger than his father, and he was only 14. She felt a familiar wetness begin to trickle up inside her... Jared was still moaning softly as she rubbed his leg, and muttered, "Damn are my muscles stiff." Yes they are, she thought to herself, still rubbing his thigh but with her eyes locked on his monster erection. She could feel his thigh soften up, not nearly as tense as before. "How's that feel, honey? Better?" She asked lightly, her voice only slightly quavering as she fought for self control. "A little." He replied casually, eyes closed as he relaxed, "It's not as sore as it was, but I still feel pretty stiff." I'll bet you do, she thought again to herself, god but that cock looks hard. She didn't reply vocally, though, simply resumed her rubbing... long, deep strokes along his thigh, higher and higher till her fingers brushed up against his big ballsack. Jared was moaning softly again, lying there enjoying it all. He didn't seem to mind, so..... On her last rubbing stroke upwards, Mrs. Thompson let her hands keep going this time, sliding up over his pelvis to grasp his big cock, lightly stroking it. Jared gasp softly at her touch there, but otherwise said or did nothing. Taking this as ascent, Mrs. Thompson began to stroke her son's massive stiff rod in earnest. Jared began moaning louder now, lifting his butt up slightly to 'impale' his cock further up in his mother's stroking fists. "Ohhh, yeah...." He muttered. Mrs. Thompson jacked her son off for several minutes before the rising heat between her legs drove her on. Bending over, she released her son's big teenaged cock long enough to place her open mouth around the fat, engorged head. "Ohhh, yeah!!! Suck it, mom...," her son cried out. She felt his hands tangling in her long hair, pulling her head down more as she sucked more of his cock into her mouth. With about two thirds of it in, she felt the fat head pressing at the entrance to her throat. She forced herself to relax her throat muscles, even as her lips squeezed tight around his shaft and her hot wet mouth sucked hard like a vacuum. But Jared wasn't waiting... he pressed her head down, and with a soft plop, his big cock entered her throat, pushing in all the way. He gasped loudly as she deep throated her young son.... Mrs. Thompson began bobbing her head up and down, twenty years of cock sucking experience rapidly bringing her boy off to a quick orgasm. Jared felt his orgasm build, spread like wildfire, and explode out the tip of his cock as he blasted his hot spunk straight down his mom's throat. And like a real trooper, his mom swallowed every drop. She continued sucking, cleaning off every drop, before pulling off, the cock slipping out of her mouth with a wet 'plop'. She smiled down at her boy, who grinned up at her, "Wow, that was great, mom....." Her gaze flickered down and noted he was still very erect, "Mmmm... my, son, you still seem to have some stiff muscles..... maybe there's something else I can do to relax them....." With that, she untied her robe and opened it, exposing two very large breasts, nipples very stiff, and sagging just a little.Between her legs was a small, neatly trimmed triangle of short fur. "Ohhh, yeah...." Jared mumbled as he took in the sight of his mom. He'd spied on her changing before, but it was never this close, this up-front. She stood, let the robe slip off her shoulders and fall to the floor, then moved back onto the bed, straddling him. With one knee to either side of his waist, she slowly lowered herself, feeling his huge young teenage cock rub between her legs. Positioning it just right, she eased down, feeling the large thick fuckrod smoothly enter her velvety, sopping wet pussy. "Uhhhnnnnn...." She moaned as the large thing stretched her. She was used to her husband's thinner, more average 6" cock. This big baby was a nice refreshing change. "Yeah.... Ride my big cock, mom...." her 'innocent' little boy said, as he grinned lewdly up at her. He grasped hold of her huge breasts, massaging and squeezing them, teasing the nipples as she sat all the way down, impaling herself. With that, she began to ride him, moving slowly up and down on the huge frame, then bouncing... faster and faster. Jared soon began to thrust his cock up with her every downward movement, impaling himself deeper. Finally, losing control, Jared grabbed hold of her, rolled, and shoved her onto her back, with him on top. She instinctively locked her legs behind him as he began to pound into her, power-fucking her wildly. His tight young ass rose and fell in a blur, repeatedly slamming his cock deep inside her eager, wet pussy. "Ohhh!!! OHHHH, god, yesss!!!! Fuck me!!! Fuck me, Jared! Fuck mommy GOOD!!!!" she cried out brazenly as her young teenaged son brutally fucked her. Soon, she was grunting with every violent thrust, "Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn!" Jared leaned down and took one of her wildly bouncing tits into his mouth, sucking on the stiff nipple and front of the breast like a starving man. He switched back and forth between breasts until he could feel another orgasm rise. "Ohhh, mom! I'm gonna cum!!!!" "Yes, baby! Cumm!! Cumm for mommy!!!" Jared kept pounding away, til the familiar feeling shot up his cock.... Carrying a thick, heavy wad of cum with it. He plastered the hot spunk straight up her pussy, the feel of his cum on her pussy walls triggering her own orgasm. "OHHH, Baby, yessss!!!!!!!!" Jared kept fucking for another minute or two, until both their orgasms had died down and he was done cumming. Jared rolled off his mother and spread out on the bed next to her. Blushing profusely, Mrs. Thompson climbed out of bed, quickly pulled on her robe, and headed to the bathroom for another shower.

m/F, inc, teen

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11829.txt

Chilepeelr

Peeler RP: HypnoWho - Part 9

Jenny, Stephana and Alec watched TV most of the night; Lisa begged off saying she had to do some schoolwork and she went upstairs. Jenny had the feeling that Lisa was avoiding her due to their conversation in her bathroom; she wasn't sure what to do about that. She hoped Lisa would work out whatever it was that was bothering her. When Stephana excused herself to go upstairs for the evening, Jenny decided it was time to talk to her father about their future; namely when they could continue their incestuous affair. When the coast was clear, she walked over to her father and slumped down beside him on the leather couch, making sure her thigh touched his and her left breast pressed against his arm. Being this close to him was torture. She'd experienced such intimacy with him but she knew that their affair would have to be a secret. "Sorry if I broke up something there in the kitchen after dinner." "No, in fact, I'm glad you came in," her father answered her as he swung his arm over her head and draped loosely around her shoulders as he turned his body slightly toward her. "Is Lisa still upstairs?" he asked her. "I think she's still studying. I saw her light on in her room when I was up there before." Without warning she leaned into him and kissed him on the mouth hard. She felt her father respond; felt him return the kiss. She pulled away from him and ran her hand up and down his chest. "I could wait up tonight. We could be quiet." She hoped he would agree and come to her bedroom when Stevie was asleep. His love was like a narcotic in seemed. Her euphoria had lasted all afternoon from their first lovemaking but it was beginning to wear off. "Not tonight, baby. I have to go into the office early tomorrow and I'd kinda planned on being with Stephana tonight." Jenny's heart fell in her chest. "But tomorrow night....that you're really going to enjoy." Her father's voice titillated her. It sounded like he had some plan for them to be alone together. She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling so close to him. Like she never thought she would have again with a man. "Jenny?" "Hmmmm." "Bougainvillea." Jenny felt the world slip away. *********************** "Jenny, Jenny? Wake up." Thornton softly shook his daughter and she came up slowly out of the trance he had placed her in with her keyword. "Did I fall asleep?" she asked as she sat up beside him. "I guess so. I must have wore you out today?" Jenny rose to his teasing. "I'm ready for another workout whenever you are. You sure you can't sneak out tonight?" "Tomorrow, tomorrow." Thornton promised as got up from the couch. "I'll see you then and explain it all to you." Thornton made his way upstairs, happy with the new programming he had had to instill in his daughter to make his fantasy session come true the next night. He'd re-awakened her natural lesbian desires, magnified them. When he brought her to Stevie, she'd interact with his wife like Jasmine had. He'd taken away the fear of peer pressure surrounding her bi-sexual activities which he had used that afternoon; no hang-ups would prevent her from enjoying herself with Stevie and himself. As a failsafe, to override any inhibitions she might have about making it with her stepmother, he'd given her a deep fantasy about joining him and Stephana in sexual acts; she would only remember the fantasy when he activated it with another keyword before he took her to their bedroom the following night. In effect, to her it would seem like she'd always wanted it. Later that night, after he and Stephana made love, he would expand her desires to include Jenny, so she would welcome his daughter to their bed as if it was an everyday occurrence. He couldn't help the excitement he felt as he saw the hot times ahead. *********************** Jenny finished watching the news and watched some David Letterman but her mind couldn't stay focused and she decided to call it a night. Turning out the downstairs lights, she made her way up the staircase. In the upstairs hallway, she saw a light was still on in her father's bedroom. Also the door to Lisa's room was open a crack and her light was still on. She thought about her stepsister again and this time found her desire for Lisa back and stronger than even last night. It was like someone had turned off a switch and now had turned it back on. 'Lisa tried to come onto me,' she thought. If she'd read the signs correctly. She thought she had. Confused but excited, she walked down to Lisa's door and pushed it open. Lisa was laying on her stomach on her bed, propped up on her elbows as she read a textbook that was opened before her. Being focused on her studies, she didn't notice that Jenny had entered the room. Jenny took the opportunity to admire her developing teenage body. Lisa was wearing a pair of white cotton panties and a T-shirt which she probably slept in. Due to the arch in her back and the position of her arms, her T-shirt had ridden halfway up her midriff. Lisa looked so cute, Jenny wanted to eat her....literally. The half moon cheeks of her little round butt were clearly defined as her panties had been pulled down into the cleft of her bottom. Her legs were slender and graceful and still had the look of some baby fat; Jenny was sure they would be very soft. Jenny could see the small bumps of Lisa's backbone in the portion of her lower back that was exposed. 'Let's see how she likes being come on to,' Jenny thought as she slowly walked toward her bed. Lisa finished the chapter she had been reading and decided to stretch and as she moved to get up she saw Jenny standing by her bed. Startled, she drew herself up in a sitting position, hurriedly and awkwardly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you like that," Jenny said. "I saw your light on and wondered what you were up to." "Just studying," Lisa said as she regained her composure. "Whatcha studying?" Jenny said and sat down on the side of the bed. "Um, trig," Lisa said as she pulled her T-shirt down out of habit. "Oh, I hated trig!" Jenny laughed and Lisa smiled too, happy that they had something in common. "You know when you get to college, it's totally different. You can schedule your classes for when you want them and get your studying done in the afternoon and then party every night." "I'm thinking about going to B.C.," Lisa offered. "Yeah, that would be great," Jenny said. "Close to home and I hear they've got lots of hunky guys over there. By the way, I haven't asked you about what you've got going on. Do you have a boyfriend?" Lisa felt like the room got warmer as Jenny steered into her personal life. After almost making a fool of herself earlier, she didn't want to reopen that can of worms. "Well, no," Lisa said truthfully. Then Jenny really shocked her. "Well, do you have any girlfriends?" she asked very casually. As Lisa tried to think of some way to respond, she felt Jenny's hand fall on one of her legs. Jenny smiled at her. "Listen, Lisa, I might have misread what happened today in my bathroom but I don't think I have. I saw the way you were looking at me and I'm pretty sure that towel didn't fall off the rack." Jenny's hand began stroking her thigh and Lisa realized her plan had worked after all. Her stepsister had picked up on her intentions and she sure didn't appear to have a problem with it. Jenny leaned closer to her and brought her face close, her eyes swept up and down Lisa's face. Lisa tilted her head slightly and Jenny's lips found hers. Lisa's body trembled as her stepsister nibbled on her lower lip; it felt electric. Jenny broke their first kiss and stood up. "I'll leave my door open. When you think it's safe, come see me and I'll show you what it can be like." Jenny walked to the door and before leaving she said, "I like the way you kiss." After Jenny had left, Lisa fell back on her bed, her heart still racing.Lisa lay there for several minutes imagining sucking on Jenny's tits and performing oral sex on Jenny's blonde pussy. Lisa had never done that to another girl before but she knew how good it felt. Lisa got up off the bed and went into her bathroom, pulling her nightshirt up and over her head. She wanted to get ready for Jenny; it felt like she was going on a date. She turned on her shower and while the water came to temperature, she studied herself in the mirror. Her hair looked OK, she'd just comb it out. She'd give herself a douche, get her body clean, front and back, with soap in the shower. Put on a little Body Mist perfume. Maybe a little pink lipstick. Her thin, gold ankle bracelet that always made her feel sexy. The mirror began to fog over as hot steam from the shower pervaded the rest of the room and Lisa set about getting ready. Down the hall, her mother was just finishing cleaning herself up after a strenuous lovemaking session with her man. Satisfied that she was presentable again, she turned out the light and went back to bed. She pulled the covers up and slid her nude body up against her husband's reclining figure. She raised her head so he could slide his arm around her and moved her right leg over his legs as she snuggled close. "Penny for your thoughts," she said as she ran her hand over his chest. 'If she knew my thoughts right now, she'd probably go into shock,' Thornton thought. He'd been laying there thinking again about watching her and his daughter doing some very erotic activities together. "Hmmm, I was just thinking about how lucky I am," he answered. He'd even been thinking about bringing Lisa into the mix. He wondered if Lisa and her mother would share the same exulted high that he had had with his own flesh and blood. Was it possible to instill that kind of... deviant enjoyment. Thornton had to admit fucking his own daughter was deviant. Certainly understandable since she was a walking wet dream. But as he lay there, he could not remember ever thinking about Jenny sexually until he was on his way for Europe and the hypnosis training. Now he couldn't stop. Stevie's massaging hand dipped lower on his torso and bumped into the top of his stiff, re-awakened sex organ. He felt her fingers trace the outline of his lengthy member. "Alec! God, you know this thing is supposed to go down after we make love." She pressed her firm silicone tits harder into the side of his chest. "Would you like to do it again, my love?" That had hardly ever happened in their marriage with the exception of the first few months they had been married. But since Alec's return, they had both seemed to be sexually overcharged. He had surprised and delighted her by bringing Jasmine into their bed. And when they had been making love, he had told her he would be bringing another woman into their bed soon. "I'd like to, baby," he said, "but I need to get some sleep. But before that, I need to talk with you about an aardvark." Stevie fall off into her trance as he spoke her keyword. He began speaking softly do her, reforming her morals, opening her mind to things she would never have considered, planting a lust for Jenny. Lisa stopped outside of her mother's bedroom and listened at the door. There was no light showing from underneath their door and she could not hear any carnal sounds like on Friday night. She was more excited now than when she had heard the groans of the three-way that night. Before pulling on the short silk robe she'd chosen to wear, she'd spent a few moments petting herself, rubbing her excited pussy in anticipation of her journey to Jenny's bed. It had helped dissolve some last minute jitters. Taking a deep breath, she moved down the hall to Jenny's door. Lisa slipped into Jenny's room and closed the door behind her. Jenny's room had a small entry hall and Lisa could see a golden glow around the corner. Licking her dry lips, she walked to the corner and stepped into the bedroom itself. The scene before her was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen; it was like out of a movie or one of those titillating romance novels her mother used to be seen reading. Jenny's bed was bathed in the rich light of upwards of twenty candles positioned on both bed side lamptables and a clothes chest at the foot of the bed. "You like the candles?" Lisa saw Jenny sit up on the bed; the golden light from the candles had blended her blonde hair into the background of a collection of pillows at the top of the bed. The covers fell away from her round breasts when she sat up and she proudly let them remain exposed to Lisa's gaze. "They're great," Lisa said as she walked over to the side of the bed, "It looks....dreamy in here." "I'm glad you like it. The ceiling lamp was just too bright and I didn't want it to be pitch dark." Jenny's eyes ran up and down Lisa's form. "I wanted to see you," she added as she rose up onto her knees. The covers fell completely away at this point and Lisa marveled at Jenny's toned body in the flickering candlelight. Her slender shoulders - her grapefruit sized tits - the outline of her ribcage and her flat stomach - the v-shaped, untanned area dipping into the junction of her thighs. Jenny exuded sexuality out of every pore. "Take your robe off," Jenny said as she pulled her long blonde hair back over her shoulders. Lisa undid the thin sash that held her robe closed and pulled the robe off her shoulders. Beneath it she was totally nude and as the robe fell away, Jenny was quick to compliment her. "Oooh, you've got such a cute little body, Lisa." Jenny couldn't wait to get her hands on her younger stepsister. The craving for another woman's touch was almost uncontrollable that night; much stronger than it even was with her college roommate lover. She walked on her knees across the bed and raised her hands to touch Lisa's petite, sloping breasts. Lisa nervously raised her hands in front of her and Jenny's fingers met Lisa's. Smiling at Lisa, Jenny interlaced her fingers with her stepsister's. "Just relax, Lisa. I'm going to make you feel sooooo good," Jenny whispered as she moved forward on her knees still more. At the same time, Jenny pulled Lisa's body into hers as she moved their entwined hands back behind her own body. With her back slightly arched, Jenny's orbulant tits squished against Lisa's heaving chest as she tilted her head and brought her lips onto Lisa's. Lisa nervousness melted away into ardor as Jenny began tenderly kissing her. Lisa experimentally pushed her tongue into Jenny's silky lips and felt it ride into Jenny's mouth. Her stepsister's tongue joined hers in a hot twirling dance before following Lisa's back into her mouth. As Jenny's tongue probed deeply into her oral cavity, Lisa felt Jenny's hands release her own. Jenny's athletic arms wrapped around Lisa's just above her elbows, effectively trapping them at her side, as her stepsister's hands explored her supple back. This only heightened Lisa's excitement. Her pussy was already slick from the excitement of her first lesbian experience but the way Jenny had taken control of her body felt strange and just as delicious. She'd felt the same sensation when Alec had pinned her shoulders to her bed that first night as he'd dry humped her into her second orgasm. His weight had rendered her helpless to move. Now, Jenny was doing the same without knowing it. Jenny's darting tongue exited her mouth and both gasped for air as their lips separated. "God, Jenny.....ooooo, I love it, I love you..." Lisa murmured as Jenny pulled her body tighter against her. Jenny's lips were kissing their way down her right jawline, back toward her ear. "Tell me what you like," Jenny whispered into her ear, "tell me what you're feeling....tell me what you want me to do." Jenny wanted Lisa to open up to her, to lay herself open without fear; that was what she enjoyed about her relationship with Amanda. "I...oh God, I love the feel of your arms around me." Lisa said in a rush. "I....my arms, I can't move my arms......and I like that, I don't know why." Jenny's lips began nibbling on her earlobe and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations as her hands grabbed Jenny's lower back. As Jenny began running her tongue around the hard cartilage of the girl's outer ear, she was analyzing Lisa's quick confession. She knew from her Human Sexuality class that many people found extra stimulation from the loss of free will during lovemaking. Perhaps, subconsciously, she had used the chance to lock fingers with Lisa to gain some control over her younger step-sibling. The more she thought about it, the more appealing her proposed role became. "Let's lay down," Jenny said as she relaxed her hug on Lisa and used her right arm to pull her across her body and the two of them slumped onto the bed, Lisa on her back with Jenny partially draped over her. Lisa's arms went around her neck as Jenny kissed her again. For several minutes they let their lips demonstrate their rising passion for each other. Jenny's right leg had moved over and between Lisa's and both were enjoying the stimulation of a thigh rubbing against their leaking slits. Lisa then felt Jenny's hand moving up her arm as she pulled away from her. Without saying a word, Jenny pushed her arms above her head. Soon, Jenny's left forearm was pinning Lisa's left hand beneath it while she gripped Lisa's right wrist. "What are you doing?" Lisa asked, although she knew. "I think you like this, don't you?Jenny said as she ran her right hand down the side of Lisa's flushed face and onto her slender neck. "You like me holding your hands like this. Knowing I can do whatever I want with you. Tonight, you'll let me." Lisa's eyes didn't say to stop. Jenny ran her hand down onto the slightly raised area of Lisa's left breast; with her hands above her head, the girl's small tit mounds had flattened out considerably. Jenny's palm swirled over Lisa's small, dark, stiff nipples and her stepsister whinnied in pleasure. "Your nipples are so hard," Jenny said huskily. "I'd like to suck them." "Oh, yes....yes, please," Lisa encouraged Jenny as she raised her head and looked down between them. Jenny scooted slightly down Lisa's reclining form and jerked her head up and back to send her hair over her left shoulder; she wanted Lisa to have an unobstructed view of her face. Her hand squeezed the flesh around Lisa's left nipple up into a small cone and moved her lips down onto it. "Mmmmmmm, oh......oh....mmmmm," Lisa trilled as Jenny's tongue teased her sensitive nipple. The simulated restraint that she was allowing Jenny to exert over her and Jenny's oral ministrations combined to send shivers down her young body. She let her head fall back onto the mattress as she felt Jenny's mouth suck most of her tit into her hot mouth. Jenny suckled on Lisa's soft titflesh as her right hand slid down Lisa's heaving flank. Lisa was humping her moist mons into her leg and Jenny wanted to heighten the girl's pleasure even more with her fingers. Letting Lisa's reddened teat free from her mouth, Jenny looked down to watch her fingers slide into Lisa's neatly trimmed muff and then over the edge to her juicy slit. "Ooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaa," Lisa moaned sweetly as the fingers slowly masturbated her clit. Her gasps grew quicker and quicker. She imagined what else Jenny would do and make her do as the night progressed and it was enough to transport her into sublime release. "OOOOOOH....AAAHHAAHHHAAHHHHHHHHAAAAAAHH!" Lisa bucked her hips into Jenny's fingers as her first orgasm of the night broke over her like an ocean wave. Her body coiled as her muscles strained upward. "Cum....aaahhhhh, Lisa.....oh, you cum so hard!" Jenny squealed as she watched her stepsister torque her body. She pressed her own blonde-fringed pussy tighter against Lisa's thrashing leg. The friction wasn't enough to get her off but she wanted to wait anyway. She had more in store for her submissive stepsister.

mc, ff

Part 9

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11107.txt

Robert Kraft

The Wine Tasting (Parts 6-8)

"I need to shut the door right," she said, "or else the beasts get in. The door is broken, so you need to shut it in a certain way." "O.K." I went down as she messed with the door. The cellar was big, about the size of two large living rooms, but about twice as long as it was wide. The racks were all made of wood, and constructed to keep the bottles tipped slightly with cork towards the floor. You could easily read the label on any bottle, a convenience missing from most wine racks. Each rack had a small halogen light that illuminated the bottles in that rack. In all, it was extremely well designed. There was a set of track lighting overhead, but it was not on. The only light in the room was from the rack lights and the light from the ante-room. It was enough to see well, but not bright. Very pleasant, actually. "Do you like it?" asked Winona from behind me. "Yeah, it is very cool." "Well, it is climate controlled to stay at about 55 - 60 degrees." "That's not what I meant." I looked at her with a laugh. "I know, it was a joke." "Oh yeah." "I just had that lighting installed. The track lighting I mean. It used to be some ugly fluorescent structure before." "Is it not done yet?" "No. Just needs a final check by the electrician." I was looking at the bottles. There were hundreds of expensive and rare wines. Petrus 1982, Latour 1975, Mouton-Rothschild 1970, Lafite-Rothschild, 1945, and more, some were too dusty to read the label. "What do you want to open?" she asked. "Me? I don't know. There are so many good ones. I don't know that I can open such great wines just like that." "Why not? There are hundreds. How about this one here. 1929, Haut-Brion." "Are you joking?" I rushed over to her. I looked. It was indeed a '29 Haut-Brion. "That's extremely rare. It would be sacrilege to open that right now." "I guess so. But I would. After all, you spent about this much on dinner." "No way. I didn't spend almost four digits." We laughed. I gawked. "Here. Latour 1961." And before I could object, she was opening it. "Jesus, a 61 Latour. Perhaps the greatest Latour ever produced. How many do you have?" "A couple of cases, maybe a few more." "Shit! How did your Aunt get these?" "She bought several cases of each First-Growth Bordeaux every year when they came out. Except on bad or mediocre years. She also went to auctions. She has been collecting for most of her life. Her father collected too, and he passed on a lot of wines to her." She pulled a couple of glasses from an overhead glass rack. As she reached up, I noticed her nipples perking up from the chill in the air. It wasn't the only thing perking up. She poured us each some. We sipped from the pap of life. "Wow. What an extraordinarily long, sweet finish." I said. "Yeah. Very full-bodied. Has hints of chocolate and plum." "And tobacco." She hopped up and sat on the table in the center of the cellar. Her skirt was riding high. She tasted the wine again. "This is really spectacular." "Do you have a white napkin?" "Did you spill?" she asked, unconcerned. "No I wanted to check out the color." "Oh, of course. Let's see." She rummaged through some drawers. "Well, actually, I don't. I could go back to the house." "I'll go. I just don't want to pass up the opportunity to observe this fine wine. I might never drink this again." "Wait. You can use my T-top. It's pure white." "Um, O.K. If you say so." I stepped in front of her, and brought up my glass in front of her chest. Her chest was moving a bit quick. She seemed to sit up straight and push out her chest a bit as I came up. I looked through the glass. The diffraction of the glass let me see her cleavage, although my line of sight was more towards her bellybutton. I was extremely turned on, to say the least. "How is it?" she asked, with a definite tone of mischief. "It is… very roun - I mean, mature, uhhhh, definitely mature color, and… also it's clear, aged well in the bottle. It is a… beautiful color." "Lemme see." She put her hand under her shirt, and pushed out the bottom so she could look at her glass against it. I stepped back, and could see her stomach. It was firm and flat, well toned. She must work out a lot, I thought. Suddenly, she let out a small cry. She had spilt some of her glass on her top, just below her right breast. "Damn. I need to soak this quickly, or it's ruined." "O.K., let's head back." "No, there's a sink over there." She got up and hurried over, holding her top to keep the wine from spreading. "Hey, at least if it's ruined, you ruined it with a '61 Latour. That was probably about 25 bucks you spilt right there." She started laughing, and got the hot water running.The water rushed down her back again. It hit the bra back, at the same time Winona had undone it. It was like the river broke the dam. The water ran down to her skirt, where the wet spot was spreading to cover most of her ass. I wet the top again, as Winona let out a small moan. She had left the bra hanging, unclasped, on her. She turned around. Her breasts were still hidden from view by the loosely hanging bra. I took the top and put it above her breasts. The water ran down her chest, funneling through the channel between her boobs, and running down her firm tummy. She reached out and pulled my head into her breasts. It was the first time we had really ever touched besides hands, and it felt pretty damn good! I kissed those beautiful globes through the black bra. I could feel the nipples, they were rock hard. She was undoing my tie, and then my shirt buttons, and soon she had ripped off my shirt. I stood up and sat her up on the marble counter. "Oooh, cold!" she said. "Sorry," I said and tried to help her off. "No, it feels good," she said slowly. She looked me in the eyes. "More water, Roberto." I grabbed an empty bottle of wine that was nearby, gave it a quick rinse, and filled it. I brought it over, and slowly poured it over her breasts, still covered. The water soaked into her jean skirt. I poured more water over her smooth legs, which I couldn't resist reaching out and touching. She was sitting with her legs crossed, hands on the edge, leaning forward, eyes closed. The water was everywhere. I filled another bottle. I made it just a bit hotter. As I turned back to her, she uncrossed her legs and spread them open a little. She pulled me over and pulled me to here, so I was standing in front of her. She pulled me in to her, and kissed me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. She was so fucking hot! She pulled me close, and my penis slammed into her crotch area. My trousers were probably busted from my penis trying to get out so much. I poured the bottle into the space where our chests met, and it pooled up between her breasts and my chest. It overflowed and down our stomachs, and all on my trousers. For an instant, I wished they were off, because they were dry clean only. But then I thought, this is worth 20 pairs of trousers. Besides, I've washed trousers before by mistake and they - who the fuck cares!?!? On with the story.She must have sensed it, because she started to pull me up and down even more. "I'm gonna cuuum.." I managed to get out. "MmmmmHmmmmm…" she confirmed. I shot a huge load into her mouth. I was cumming for at least 30 seconds. I kept pumping, almost with no regard for her. She giggled. I let out some last thrusts which probably shoved my cock into her lungs, but she just giggled pleasurably. Apparently she swallowed. I withdrew from her mouth, and was surprised to see my cock was still hard. It was probably not going down for a while, it felt pretty tense. "Fuck me," she said. She got up and bent over the counter. I raised up her skirt, and rubbed my dick along her wet slit. "What about protection?" "I just finished my period a few days ago, we are safe." "In that way, at least." "Well, I'm clean, are you?" "Yeah. I guess we'll need to trust each other on that though." "If you would rather stop now…" I shoved my prick hard into her cunt. All the way in. She let out a deep growl. It was pretty tight, although not necessarily the tightest I have ever felt. But it was still good. I stayed in for a few seconds, and then started to pump her. I reached down, and inserted a finger into her ass, too. She liked that a lot. I started parallel stroking her again. Slow at first, but then as we became fully lubricated in there, I started grinding her. Her but was slapping against my hips, she was sprawled out on the counter. I realized I hadn't been cold for a while, even though we were still in the cellar, where it was about 58 degrees. Sex really warms you up! She reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart. I stroked like a wild animal. I left the finger in the ass, and could feel my dick pumping in and out through the thin membranes in there. It was very erotic. My dick popped out, and so I shoved it back in. I had already come in her mouth, and usually it take a while for my dick to want to come again, even though I was hard. I was pumping away for a few minutes, Winona was screaming. She was having a long fucking orgasm. Some chicks have a brief and extreme burst; others caught a big wave and rode it for a long time. Winona was of the latter type. "Mmmm…sssss…sssss!" she hissed. "Yeah, baby!" "Noo," she managed through her breaths. "Myy…asssshhh…." I thought she was hyperventilating. I pulled out. "Are you alright?" I said, breathing hard. "Yes, damnit… Fuck me…In the ass!" I wasted no time. I positioned her a little lower, hiked up the skirt a bit more, and pushed into her sweet anus. Man, it was tight. This was definitely the tightest hole, cunt OR ass, I'd ever been in. I slowly worked it in a little. Suddenly she reached back, and pulled me violently in her. She let out a scream. "Fuck, me, damnit!" I started pumping her asshole. I reached under and shoved a few fingers into her cunt, although I couldn't get a good angle for good thrusting. She was going wild. I was starting to feel a cum coming on. I pumped wildly. I pulled out, and turned her over onto her back again. I stuck my dick into her ass and started again. I reached over and grabbed the bottle. The top looked clean, and did not have a covering, and there were no nicks on the glass. I bent backwards and leaned back, holding myself up with one hand on the table behind. With the other hand, I took the bottle and slowly shoved it in to her cunt. It was a Burgundy style bottle, which means it gradually tapered from the top to the middle, where it was full round, rather than Bordeaux style, where it has a thin neck about 3 inches long and then quickly rounds out to its full width. The top of a wine bottle is about an inch wide, and about six inches down, it is about 2 or 2.5 inches wide. That's where I inserted the bottle to. Winona was exploding. She was shuddering, screaming, helping with the bottle, fingering her clit, you name it. We fucked like that for about another minute, during which Winona had a large peak. Once I saw she was coming down, I pulled out and started stroking. She was still laying with her back on the counter, grinding her hips. My first shot flew out and hit the wall past her head. The second one arced onto her breasts and stomach. I aimed the third shot at her cunt. It smacked against her lips. I was coming pretty hard. I had a sudden fascination with cumming in all her holes, so I pressed into her cunt briefly, and let out my fourth and fifth shots. I pulled out, and the sixth one came out as I was aiming for her ass. I pushed up against her anus, and let out a few more spurts, before pushing hilt deep into her ass and unloading the rest of my cum. I gently pumped her ass a little, with my now dying penis. She was breathing hard but making contented sounds. She had rubbed the cum that landed on her tits all over them while I was making my rounds delivering come elsewhere. "So you nailed me in every hole." "So I did." "That was something else." "Yeah." We let out some deep breaths. "So, how do I taste?" she asked. "Full bodied, rich, a bit plummy…" We both looked at the bottle of 1961 Latour, half-full. "Want some more wine, Roberto?" she asked with a grin. "You bet!"

Parts 6 - 8

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18055.txt

Rhett Dreams

Southern Hospitality

"Sheriff... ent..." The police radio squawked in the patrol car of County Sheriff Paul Trent as he cruised the two-lane rural highway in Southern Mississippi. It was almost midnight and it had been very quiet. This was not unusual for this town or this highway. Most of the traffic took the interstate that traveled along the gulf coast of Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and into N'Orleans. Aside from the locals, it was infrequent that a traveler took this route. "Trent here," he said into the microphone, his pulse quickening as he recognized the voice of Ward Price, owner and operator of the gas station several miles west of his position. Price only used the police channel for one reason. Fresh meat was on the way. "Some sleazy looking guy driving East in a blue van," said the disembodied voice on the radio. They had simple code they used in case someone was listening in on the police channel. Price said guy but it was a woman driving the car. Sleazy meant she was a real looker. Blue van translated into a red sports car. "Got it. Thanks." Having done this a dozen times, the team had the timing down perfectly. Price would rouse his brother Sam to look after the gas station and would be east-bound with the tow truck within ten minutes. Five miles east on the highway, Trent took his position behind a clump of bushes and waited for the target. When the car raced by, Trent estimated its speed at greater than seventy on the fifty-five mile per hour road. He pulled out and flipped on his flashers and accelerated after the girl. She pulled over a mile down the road and he eased the cruiser behind her. He smiled when he saw that the car was an expensive Mercedes convertible with Florida plates. It would bring at least twenty-five G's from the cut-up shop in Jackson. Easing out of the cruiser, he walked up to the driver's side door, his flashlight illuminating the blond girl and the entire front seat. "Do you know why I pulled you over, Miss?" The girl was very attractive and quite stylish. Her thick blond hair was tied back with a red and yellow scarf. From his position above her he could see down the front of her yellow silk dress and noted that her white lace-covered breasts looked quite sizable. Her dress ended at mid-thigh and her legs were long and shapely. "Cause you small-town cops have nothing better to do than harass people from out of town," said the girl, petulantly. Then she added, "Just give me the Goddamn ticket so I can get the fuck outta here." "License and registration, please," he said calmly while his blood raced at the insulting comments. She'd pay that one back many times. "Jesus H. Fucking Christ!" muttered the girl as she leaned over and fished in the glove box for her registration. While she was searching for her papers, Trent scanned the car and was pleased to see that it wasn't equip with a phone. He was always quite cautious about abducting a girl who might have just called someone on a car phone. It was too easy for the record of that call to help the Bureau trace her movements and narrow down the search area. Trent had spent twenty years in the FBI before retiring and accepting the Governor s appointment to the vacant position of sheriff of this county, so he knew all the tricks. "Here," she spat out as she shoved her license and registration at him. "It'll be just a moment, Miss," he said and returned to the cruiser. The license was issued to Bethany Albert, age twenty-five, and the address was in Tallahassee. The car, however, was registered to a man in Tampa. Trent waited precisely two minutes before returning to the car. "Please step out of the car, Miss," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "What the fuck?" said the girl. "Now, Miss!" Trent caught a flash of garters as the girl pulled herself out of the car. After steadying herself on her three-inch heels she turned toward him and was about to say something snotty. "Hands on the trunk," he barked, "legs spread!" Uncertainty appeared in her eyes for the first time. She moved to obey. Standing behind her, Trent allowed himself a second or two to appreciate her shapely form before placing his hand on her back and pushing her forward onto the trunk. "Who'd you fuck to get this car? Huh, cunt?" His hands frisked her professionally and quickly. He found nothing except the ripe, centerfold body that he expected, dressed to kill in garters and stockings under her expensive silk dress. "Let me goooo," she wailed. Then, "This isn't legal you ass---" "Shut your hole!" he commanded and pulled one arm behind her, cuffed it, then the other. The sound of the handcuffs clasping shut around her wrists added to the girl's fright and she went docilely when Trent led her to the cruiser. She cried out when he slammed her against the side of the police car, holding her there with one hand while he opened the back door. Trent was quite practiced at these techniques from a career of law enforcement and a generally nasty disposition. He had no trouble manhandling the scared girl into the back seat and locking her in. Trent pulled out and headed west. As he passed Price in the tow truck he flashed his lights to indicate that all was well. Price would have the Mercedes loaded on the flat-bed tow truck and covered within five minutes. Before day break, it would be delivered to a warehouse in Jackson that specialized in preparing expensive cars for resale on the black market, or cutting them up for parts. By the time they were finished, it would be untraceable. Trent ignored the girl's questions and outbursts as he drove down a series of dark roads until he arrived at the Heinz farm. It was no longer owned by the Heinz family but was still called that and would be forever. The only permanent resident was Tom Webber, a fiftyish black man who acted as caretaker and helped with the cunt meat brought in every month or so. Webber had several run-ins with the law, and Trent had used the last one, vehicular manslaughter, to guarantee his loyalty and silence. Webber had leapt at the opportunity to avoid prison and, to top it off, to get a job that paid well and didn't require much work. And he grew to appreciate the fringe benefits. As Trent pulled the cruiser in front of the dilapidated house, the girl's concern and irritation turned to real fear. This was clearly no police station. "Where are we? Wha--- What's happening?" she cried. "Shut the fuck up, cunt," was Trent's response. Webber met him as he got out of the cruiser. "Y'got another one, Mr. Trent?" "That's right, Tom. I think you're gonna enjoy this one. She's got a body to die for and an attitude that'll need correctin'." A wide grin appeared on Washington's face. "You got it," he said. "I think I'll help out on this one, Tom. Pay back for some of the things she said." "That'll be just fine, boss."Where does his money come from? "Why should I---" Her retort was cut short when she screamed after being whipped by Tom. This time Trent signaled the black man to continue and smoked silently while the girl was whipped time after time. "Stop... Owww... oh, shit... please stop!" Trent raised his hand, stopping her torment. "You were telling me about Mr. Stennis." "Uh, oh... Um, he's retired, I guess," she said, struggling to catch her breath. With a few prompts from Trent she proceeded to tell him what he needed to know. Her fiancee, Stennis, was a fiftyish man who'd made a lot of money on Wall Street, divorced his wife and moved down to Tampa to do some fishing and enjoy the local talent. Trent learned that he made her sign a pre-nuptial agreement that limited her options in case they divorced. The girl's widowed mother lived in Maryland, living off her husband's insurance. Trent wanted this information so he'd be better prepared if anyone began a search for the missing girl. In Beth's case, however, he doubted if her street-wise fiancee would do much other than file a cursory report with the cops. He and the cops would likely assume that she found another rich man in New Orleans and perhaps had sold his car for spending money. When he'd heard enough he motioned to Tom. The girl cried out again as the black man began cutting off her clothes, a piece at a time. While he worked his mouth was set in a crooked grin. He'd never even seen a naked white girl before Trent had recruited him, much less fucked one. This would be their twelfth victim and he felt the blood rush to his oversized cock as more and more of the bound girl's body was exposed. She cried out and tried every now and then to struggle against her bindings, but gave up after she had rubbed her wrists raw against the leather cuffs that held her. "Best yet, Sheriff," he said when she was completely nude. "She'll bring fifty K, maybe more," said Trent in agreement. Both men began to undress, eyeing the shapely body of the sobbing girl. When she saw Trent's cock bobbing in front of her face, the girl cried again. His cock was at least ten inches long, the hard muscle covered with thick veins. With her eyes clouded with tears and her mouth open in terror, Trent shoved a rubber gag into her mouth. The donut-shaped gag fit over her teeth and stretched her jaw wide. The center was open, and he positioned the head of his cock at this entrance to her mouth. The girl gagged when his cock hit the back of her throat. Then again when he pulled back and drove once more to the back of her throat. She fought to control her panic and forced herself to breathe out of her nose. Her panic returned when she felt the black man's cock press up against her sex, moistened only by her exertions over the last half-hour. A searing jolt of pain hit her when the black man stabbed his thick rod into her sex, trying and failing to gain entry. "Better grease her up, Tom," said Trent. "We don't want damaged goods." The girl pushed the hysteria from her mind, fighting desperately to survive this ordeal. The cock at her sex was pulled away, only to be replaced a minute later by greasy fingers than invaded her dry sex and pushed deep inside. Trent's thrusts into her mouth continued and she felt his cock start to enter her tight throat each time he rocked forward. Strapped in like she was, with her torso bent over the barrel and her chin propped up by the ledge, the man had a straight line for his long cock into her mouth and throat. The girl had considerable experience pleasuring her partners with her mouth, and had occasionally taken a cock into her throat, but she had always the one in control. She would time the throat penetration for after she'd gotten her gag reflex under control, and relaxed the muscles of that passageway. In this case she had no control, and the cock was longer than anything she'd ever experienced. She forced herself to take a breath each time he rocked back and to will away the gag reflex as he fucked his long cock forward, into her throat. After another dozen strokes she felt his balls slap against her chin as his cock drove deep down her throat. The pain from her sex returned as the black man forced his thick rod back into her now-lubricated cunt. "She called me an asshole, Tom," said Trent as he watched his associate work his enormous black cock into the helpless girl. "Shee-it, boss," said Tom, driving his eleven-inch monster to the hilt. He paused once she was corked and muttered, "This girl's gonna wish she hadn't." Although she was far from being a virgin, Beth Albert had never experienced anything like the cock that began slowly fucking in and out of her stretched hole. The lubricant helped a bit but she still felt pain as his rod filled her as never before, stretching the walls of her cunt and pressing painfully against her womb. She tried to block out the pain and focus instead on accommodating the cock fucking her throat, forcing herself to anticipate the cadence and to breathe when she could. Her attention was totally on the cock fucking her mouth. "Get her ready for me, Tom," said Trent. The black man grinned and worked a greasy finger into her ass while he rocked back and forth, driving his cock faster now into the white girl's tight cunt. As the triple rape continued Tom increased his pace until he was slamming his hips against the helpless girl's ass, thereby driving deeper the finger that stuck lewdly in her ass. The girl's brain clouded over with conflicting signals from her body. The cock fucking into her throat was no longer a problem. It's cadence was regular, allowing her to breathe, and the early discomfort from each foray her into throat faded away as the signals emanating from her cunt dominated her senses. Each time the massive cock scraped over her clit she felt a building pleasure that was mixed with dull pain each time his cock bottomed out against her womb. And the finger in her ass was a new experience, unpleasant at first but now it contributed to the assault on her senses. Trent withdrew his cock and stepped back, his cock shiny from her spit. He pulled the gag from her mouth before strolling out of sight of the girl. "Oh!" she chanted as Tom raped his cock brutally into her cunt. With the cock gone from her mouth all of her senses focused on the throbbing signals from her clit. The pleasure was building, driving all thoughts from her head except for the climax that was soon coming. She felt a new sensation after Trent backed himself under the table and sucked her hanging breast into his mouth. When he chewed on her erect nipple she went over the edge, crying out in release. As the waves of pleasure rolled through her body and brain, she was dimly aware of the cock jerking as it slammed into her, and of the flood of cum that followed. "Oh, God... Oh, God," she chanted as her orgasm continued and intensified from the feeling of her tormentor's cum hosing the walls of her stretched cunt. When she was finished she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. The spent cock was pulled out of her cunt with an audible plop, and she felt guilt and shame at her body's unwitting response to this rape. "Nice piece o' white ass," said Tom, pulling his finger from her ass and slapping her playfully. "We'll see," she heard Trent say. Tom chuckled and she realized that her torment was not complete. Her brain registered that the white man hadn't cum in her throat and that he was going to fuck her now. She groaned inwardly, feeling again the soreness from her well-fucked cunt, and new hands on her ass. She cried out when the fingers spread her cheeks apart and she felt his cock at her anus. "No!" she cried. "Take me... the other way!" "You called me an asshole, bitch! Now you're gonna feel me up yours!" She screamed as he pushed his cock past the tight muscle of her anus and into her virgin ass. The pain was sharp and unrelenting as he worked his greased pole into her ass, ignoring her cries, until he was buried to the balls in her ass. The girl cried and sobbed as the sodomy continued, his strokes slow but unyielding. The pain lessened only somewhat as the rape of her ass progressed and Trent's fingers dug into her firm fleshy cheeks. "She tight, Boss?" "Yeah, Tom... Good and tight." Tom watched his boss work his cock back and forth into the whimpering girl, and smiled to himself. He knew Trent would leave once he'd finished butt-fucking the beautiful blond, back to his office to call the Mexican and arrange for the pickup. Within a couple of days this girl would be servicing ten or twelve men a day at a brothel south of the border or, if she was lucky, she'd be en route to the Middle East to spend the next ten years as a slave to a rich Arab. While Trent was arranging the details and negotiating her price, Tom would have the blond to himself for a few hours before he'd have to clean her up for transport. The black man grinned and said to himself, "Fuck her good, Boss man, 'cause I'm gonna be plowin' that white ass jus' as soon as you're gone." Tom thought back over the year since he made the bargain with Trent to take this job. He'd avoided a lengthy jail sentence, and that was important. He only got paid $1,500 per month plus a bonus for every body delivered to the Mexican, or otherwise disposed. Three times it was men that Trent bagged. If they were pretty they'd sell them to the Mexican, just like the cunts. And Tom would fuck em', just like he planned to do to the blond as soon as Trent left. One time the guy was older and Trent knew the Mexican would have no interest in him.and Tom buried the man's body in the woods. This was after he'd kept the man strapped in for twenty hours and raped his white ass repeatedly. "God I love my work," he said to himself, his attention drawn back to Trent when he heard the lawman grunt and dump his load deep in the blond girl's bowels. - o - Sheriff Trent put the phone back in the cradle and leaned back in his comfortable chair, a smile on his face. He'd showered after returning to the small brick police building, and changed into a new uniform, before calling the Mexican. Rodrigues had bitched and moaned about paying $60,000 for the girl, but had agreed in the end. "Just make sure that nigger doesn't damage her," he said. "And the money is assuming the girl's as nice as you're claiming." Trent knew full-well that the Mexican would pay, and that he'd probably get his investment back in six or nine months, less if he sold her outright. Trent's real profit was in the girls, not the cars. He'd probably clear only $10K for the Mercedes after splitting the proceeds with the Price boys. Except for a two grand bonus for Tom's services, and the cost of his salary and upkeep, all of the money from the girls was his to keep. "Except for the ten percent that Frank charges me," thought Trent. His brother, Frank Trent, managed the local bank and laundered the cash to an offshore account in the Caribbean. The balance would exceed three hundred thousand once the new money was deposited. He said good-bye to the night sergeant and eased himself into his cruiser for the short ride home. The non-descript ranch house was dark when he pulled into the garage and let himself into the quiet house. After locking up his gun and drinking a beer, he ambled to the back bedroom and entered, undoing his belt as he looked down at the dark body on the bed. Celeste was fifteen when he found her beside the road one afternoon ten months ago. The small black runaway was cut and bruised, her clothes torn in rags, having just been raped in the back of a pickup by two white boys who had given her a lift, stole her money and dumped her there. Trent brought her home, cleaned her up, fed her and put her to bed. A few nights later he came home after a late shift to find her sleeping, nude, in his bed rather than hers. He accepted her unstated offer and fucked the young black girl that night, and most nights since. She kept house and cooked his meals and let him use her body as he wished. They hardly ever talked and Trent suspected that he'd come home one day and find her gone, along with the five grand he kept in a metal tin in a kitchen cabinet. The girl woke when she heard Trent's boots clunk against the floor. She rolled over onto her back and sighed sleepily, her black eyes focusing on Trent as he disrobed in the dark room. She tossed the sheet off her body and eased her legs apart. Her hand slid down her ebony body to her sex where her fingers played idly to get herself ready. Trent was not one to waste time on preliminaries when he came home for a middle-of-the-night fuck, she knew, and she wanted her cunt wet and ready for his long tool. Now nude, his cock half-erect, Trent stood at the foot of the bed, his hands on his hips, gazing at the ripe young black body before him. She was a small girl, just a few inches over five feet, and her firm breasts were on the small side, barely a mouthful. But she had a woman's hips and strong thighs, and her ass was large for her frame. Her slender back flared gracefully into a pair of firm, meaty black cheeks that stood proudly from her body. Trent tore his eyes off the girl and retrieved something from the top drawer of his dresser. When he turned back he had a large dollop of lubricating jelly in his palm. As he applied the jelly to his cock, and stroked himself to his full ten inches, the girl sighed audibly and rolled over onto her front. By the time his cock was greased and ready, Celeste was laying with her head on a pillow, her ripe ass stuck invitingly in the air. The girl felt Trent's body climb onto the bed and braced herself when she felt his hands briefly caress her cheeks before pulling them apart. She'd learned how to take him in her ass without the pain of the first few times, and pushed back as he entered her slowly. She moaned as his cock wormed its way inside, the sense of fullness overwhelming. She knew that the feeling would grow more pleasant as he fucked her, and that she'd cum before he did, twice if she fingered herself. Trent quietly fucked the young girl, his mind alternating between the here-and-now and the images of his earlier butt-fuck with the blond. He stroked his cock steadily into the softly mewing girl while his hands felt the weight and firmness of her cheeks and hips. He increased his pace after several minutes, knowing from the tone of her sounds that she could take him faster. Having cum an hour or so earlier he was totally in control, savoring the feeling of her tightness and her submissiveness and replaying the images of the bound blond in his mind. He finally erupted after he'd been fucking her tight ass for over twenty minutes, sent over the edge by the gyrations and cries of the girl as she came for the second time.

mf, crime drama

Chapter One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/175.txt

Amy Ho

The Contract

_______________ hereby irrevocably agrees, willingly or unwillingly, that they have become the property of the bearer of this CONTRACT, hereinafter referred to as the OWNER. The aforementioned property agrees that they shall no longer be a he but shall accept a feminine name given by the bearer of this CONTRACT. Subsequent owners may at their discretion change the property's feminine name. Regardless of the property's name, they will also respond to such terms of endearment as she, her, bitch, whore, ho, slut, cunt, woman, girl, and others. The aforementioned cunt shall henceforth refer to their anus as their pussy, cunt, twat and similar. The aforementioned whore agrees and consents to their owner's use of their pussy at any time and any place and with any frequency their owner chooses. The aforementioned ho further agrees that they will suck their owner's cock at any time, place and frequency they wish. Except that, the owner agrees to fuck their bitch and/or cause their whore to give them a blowjob as often as they are physically capable. If the owner loses interest in their bitch's pussy or mouth, or for any other reason loses interest, they will sell the bitch to someone else who wants to ensure the cunt has plenty of dick and provide the new owner with this CONTRACT. The sale may be at auction or for merchandise or money, which shall belong exclusively to the prior owner in consideration for their bitch. The whore shall not be entitled to a share of their sale price. The aforementioned property also provides prior consent to their owner to permit anyone they choose the use of their pussy or to obtain a blowjob from their bitch at any time or place of their choosing. The aforementioned property further provides prior consent for their owner to trade their pussy or blowjobs for merchandise or money at their choosing, the bitch agrees herewith that any merchandise or money collected for the use of their pussy or mouth belongs exclusively to their owner and they are not entitled to any compensation. Regardless of who is fucking them or whose dick they are sucking, the bitch will make every effort to project enthusiasm and express enjoyment. Further, they will express desire for their owner and cause other men to believe that they can't get enough of their owner's cock. They further agree that their public humiliation by their owner may enhance their standing with their peers and consent to whatever humiliation their owner deems appropriate. Except, the owner agrees to provide their property with feminine attire, including but not limited to panties, mini skirts, halter tops, etc., and further agrees to provide their whore with feminine hormones and to compel them to take them, willingly or unwillingly. The aforementioned property agrees to dress in feminine attire and take feminine hormones and otherwise present as feminine appearance as possible and to the satisfaction of their owner. The Bitch shall remove and keep themselves from hair below the eyebrows. Except that they shall not trim or cut the hair on their head without their owner's express permission. In addition, they will not cut their fingernails without their owner's express consent. The owner may also cause their bitch to be castrated and otherwise surgical enhancement to improve their feminine appearance and the bitch hereby gives their express and irrevocable consent. ___________________ (sign) The Bitch ___________________ (sign) Witness 1 ___________________ (sign) Witness 2

Authors/Ho_Ho_Ho/TG/The_Contract.txt

Hungry Guy

EAT ME

_BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE!_ _BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE! BWEEDLE!_ Furball jumped off Nancy's lap at the strange noise coming from the coffee table and ran off to hide under some chair. Nancy leaned forward, grabbed her cell phone, and flipped it open. Seeing the call was from her friend Katie, she pressed the TALK button. "Hello!" she said. "Hi Nancy!" "Hey Katie! What's happening, girl?" "You'll never believe what Dan bought after he got that promotion at Lotsatech." "Some outrageously expensive guy-toy! Am I right?" "Bingo! But it's so cool! It's a home matter replicator." "Really? I heard everyone's into scanning THEMSELVES with those things and uploading themselves to the Internet. And creepy guys are downloading copies of girls and forcing them to be, like, sex slaves. Ewww! Those things ought to be illegal, Katie!" "Well, well, well! Weren't you the one who downloaded a kitten from CNET last week and took the CD to Staples to make it?" "But that's different. Furball is a kitty, and she's sooooo cute! Who wants to make a copy of another person? There's too many of us on the planet already! And don't they cost, like, millions of dollars for one of those things?" "Nah! The price has been coming down. Technology is like that, Nancy--the price drops while the technology improves. At least until it becomes regulated. Dan found two on Ebay for just under ten grand for the pair: a scanner and an assembler." "Well, I guess that's nice." "And we're having a replicator party. Wanna come?" "What's a replicator party?" "You'll see," said Katie. "I guess so. Sure! What should I bring?" "Just yourself." "Food? Snacks? Beer?" "Nah. Food's covered. Just show up next Saturday." "Okay," said Nancy. "Sure. Why not?" *** Nancy knocked on Katie's front door at the appointed time. "Come in! Come in!" said Katie, ushering Nancy into the living room. "You know everyone, right?" "Yeah!" said Nancy as she waved at Bob, Carol, Ted, and Alice who were sitting on the sofa chatting together. Cathy and Ronnie were talking in a corner. Fuschia and Jack were making eyes at each other next to the sliding glass patio door. Mindy was by herself as usual as she caught Nancy's eye. "Care for a snack?" asked Katie. "Sure!" said Nancy as Katie held up a large wooden tray with a large plastic bowl and several cups of dip on it. "Aaaack!" screamed Nancy. "What the..." In the bowl were miniature naked people. Nancy recognized miniature versions of everyone at the party: Ted, Alice, Mindy, Bob, Ronnie, and Carol. "Yes," Katie laughed. "Everyone's there." "I'm not sure..." Nancy stammered. "Go on. Try one of us!" said Katie. "Dan and I are even in there." Mindy had walked over to say "Hi! May I?" "Help yourself!" said Katie as Mindy reached in and picked a miniature Dan out of the bowl, dipped him face down in the onion dip, shoved him in her mouth, and swallowed. Nancy reached toward the bowl and hesitated. "Go ahead," said Mindy. "Try me. I think there's two of me left." Nancy reached in the bowl and picked out one of two miniature "twins" of Mindy. Nancy held up the miniature Mindy--identical in appearance except that the miniature was about 6 inches tall. She looked up at the full-sized Mindy and said, "Is this really you?" "It's a copy of me. All the details are right." Nancy shrugged and said, "Okay, here goes..." The tiny Mindy screamed, "No! Don't eat me! Please!" Nancy slid Mindy into her mouth, head first and began to gag, and spit Mindy back out onto her hand. "What's wrong?" said Katie. "I can't swallow Mindy--even a 6-inch tall Mindy--whole. Can I chew her?" "Noooo!" the little Mindy screamed. "However you want," said Katie. "But if you close your eyes and start swallowing as soon as you put her in your mouth, she'll go right down. And try a little dip with her, that'll help." Again, Katie dipped the little Mindy in the dip and put her in her mouth. Just her butt and legs were sticking out of Nancy's mouth, kicking and flailing. Nancy felt herself start to gag, and she bit down. Only Nancy could hear the gurgled scream come from within her mouth as she felt her mouth fill with blood. In a moment, she swallowed Mindy's upper body and head. Katie then sucked Mindy's butt and legs in and chewed and swallowed. Mindy laughed and quickly handed Nancy a tissue. "What?" "You're dripping blood from your mouth." Nancy quickly dabbed her mouth and chin, sopping up a tiny amount--or was it a large amount--of Mindy's blood that was trickling out the corners of her mouth. "Well?" asked Katie, Mindy, and Dan who had formed a cluster around Nancy. "Interesting," said Nancy. "What was it like, Mindy?" "I'm dead," laughed Mindy. "No way to tell you." "No," laughed Nancy. "I mean, were you copied? What did it feel like? And how was everybody miniaturized?" "Well," said Mindy. "I just stepped into the copier, a light flashed, then I stepped out and joined the party like nothing had happened. A little later, Katie and Dan were serving miniature copies of me, along with the others here." Dan added, "The replicator I bought has a reduction/enlarge feature. Uber fredashay, eh?" "Care for another?" asked Katie. "Sure!" said Nancy as she reached into the bowl and picked out a miniature Ronnie. Again, Nancy dipped Ronnie in the dip and slid him into her mouth as he screamed, "God, No! Don't eat me!" This time, Nancy slid him in and held him in her mouth. She momentarily fondled his tiny penis with the tip of her tongue, then closed her eyes and swallowed in one gulp. He went right down. "See?" said Katie. "It gets easier." "Now it's your turn!" said Dan. "My turn?" asked Nancy suspiciously. "Yup! Follow me." "I..." Nancy stammered. "Don't be a fraidy cat!" said Katie. "It takes just a second. You'll be back to the party in no time!" "Okay," Nancy shrugged. Dan called out, "Hey Cathy! You haven't been scanned yet either! C'mon you chicken!" Nancy and Cathy followed Dan downstairs to the game room in the finished basement. In one corner stood a tall glass cylinder that looked like a prop out of some science fiction B-movie. Nancy trembled and said, "You got first Cathy." "Sure," Cathy shrugged and stepped unto the cylinder. "Will it hurt?" "Nah," said Dan as he pressed a button on the machine. The glass door slid closed, a light flashed, and then the door slid open. "How was it?" Asked Nancy as Cathy stepped out. "Nothing to it," said Cathy. "Just a flash of light." "Look here," said Dan pointing to an LCD screen. A static image of Cathy appeared on the screen, like in a 3D version of Adobe PhotoShop. Dan moved a trackball around and clicked on a few places until the image of Cathy was naked. "I just deleted all synthetic elements from the scan, to remove all her clothes." Dan also said to Cathy, "I also ran a virsuscan on you. You'll be pleased to know that you don't have cancer or any fatal diseases." "Oh?" said Cathy. "That's good to know." "Don't want to serve any tainted snacks," laughed Dan. Dan then pulled a CD from a drive under the screen, and stepped over to a similar, but smaller, machine sitting on a table. "That was the scanner. I couldn't afford a full sized assembler, but this small one does what we need." Again an image of nude Cathy appeared on the screen. An alert text box appeared on the screen read, "Unable to begin. Object exceeds physical dimensions of assembler." Dan clicked on some icons on the top of the screen. "There! I reduced her to 10%." He clicked a few more times, and the machine began to hum and buzz. A few minutes later, the door clicked open. Inside was five miniature naked copies of Cathy. "Oh my!" gasped Cathy. "Can I see one?" before Dan could answer, Cathy reached in and gently picked one up. "Wow! Perfect detail! Even my mangled tattoo is there on..." Nancy laughed, "On where, Cathy?" Dan interrupted. "Your turn, Nancy." Nancy shrugged and said, "Okay." Then she stepped into the scanner. She smiled at Dan and Cathy as Dan pressed the button and the door slid closed around her. A violet light flashed, then she felt disoriented for a moment. The floor dropped away, then she landed with a THUD! She was about to bang on the glass when something felt decidedly odd. She was naked. And she wasn't alone. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, then she saw herself. There were four others of her standing together in the copier, all naked. "What the hell is going on?" they all said at once.Before any of them could answer, the door slid open. A giant hand reached in and scooped them up, placing them in a large, smooth stadium—no, a plastic bowl. Nancy stared at the four copies of herself and the five of Cathy who stood together in the bowl. Looking up, a giant version of herself and of Dan were looking down into the bowl. Nancy watched as the giant version of herself reached in and picked up one of the other copies of herself. "Wow! It really looks like me!" boomed the voice of the giant Nancy. Nancy's smaller self was placed back in the bowl, and Dan carried them back upstairs where the party was in progress. They all slipped and fell as their bowl was poured into another bowl containing all the other shrunken people. Nancy looked up into the room full of people—friends that she knew. The others in the bowl, Ted and Carol and Mindy, came over to the newcomers. "They don't know what they've done!" said miniature Ronnie. All the miniature Cathys rushed into miniature Ronnie's arms. "They're going to eat us and kill us!" cried the remaining Mindy. "We have to escape," said Ted, "We have to talk to Dan and tell him to stop eating us like snacks." At that moment, someone reached into the bowl and lifted someone out. A moment later, Nancy saw her giant self reach in and pluck Ted out, swallowing him. "Nooooo!" Nancy screamed with some of the others. "Hey! Hey! Hey!" they all started to scream from within the bowl. But their voices, it seemed, were too tiny to be heard by the full-sized people in the room. Nancy and some of the other Nancys and the Cathys tried to scale the walls of the bowl, but the slick plastic was too slippery. As she slid back down, a hand reached in and grabbed her. She froze in panic as a man's fingers squeezed her body a little too tightly. She was brought up to his face—Ronnie's face. "No!" she cried when he spread her legs with his thick fingers. "You creep!" she yelled as he fingered her pussy with his fingers as thick as tree trunks. She struggled as he dipped her, head first, in what felt to her like a swimming pool full of onion dip. Disoriented by being held upside down, her hair and face soaked in onion dip that had oozed into her nose and mouth, she coughed and spit out a huge mouthful of onion dip. Opening her eyes, she saw his gaping mouth come fast as he slid her in between his open lips. Closing his mouth around her torso plunged her into darkness. "Don't eat me, Ronnie!" she screamed from inside his mouth. "It's me! Nancy! Don't eat me, Ronnie! Please!" Nancy couldn't breathe. She was drenched in his saliva inside his mouth as his tongue caressed her torso, twisting her this way and that. The darkness inside his mouth was absolute, and the odor of his breath made her feel ill. The warm wetness that engulfed her upper torso contrasted with the cold crisp air of her butt sticking out of his mouth as she flailed her legs wildly, trying to kick his chin or nose. Suddenly, she felt herself being sucked in. Her butt, then her legs, and finally her feet slid past his wet, rubbery lips, and she slid down his throat. By then, she was feeling light-headed from lack of air and from being crushed by his throat muscles as she was propelled down, down, down into his stomach. Without warning, she was plunged into an ocean of vomit. The undiluted stomach acid set her eyes and pussy aflame. Kicking and flailing wildly, her lungs forced her to take a breath, only to inhale his stomach vomit, setting her lungs and throat on fire. The pain! The intense pain seemed to last an eternity, until she finally began to feel numb all over. She began to float as the pain eased and her senses shut down.

Authors/HungryGuy/Eat_Me.txt

Eileen Stone

The Darkside: USAN FAQ

--------------------------- The Darkside Universe FAQ --------------------------- FAQ Version: 0.12c FAQ Updated: 7/26/98 Covering up to Episode: USAN 12. TABLE OF CONTENTS: ======================================================================= I. Darkside's Motto and Theme. 1. What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories? 2. What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories? II. About the Author. 1. Who is KTM? 2. What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person? 3. What are her favorite kinds of stories? 4. What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories? 5. Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories? 6. Does she write any other kinds of Fiction? 7. How can I contact the author? 8. Where can I find the Stories? III. About the Stories. 1. Does KTM just 'wing' the stories, or is there a plan? 2. Has the plan been altered? 3. What are the mini-stories? 4. Will the stories be published? 5. What are the planned episodes and Volumes? 6. Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside? 7. Can I draw fan art based in the series? IV. About the World of the Darkside. 1. Who are the characters in the different Volumes? 2. What can the Power Team members do? 3. What are the Towers? 4. What is Imperial Law? 5. What are some of the Codes? 6. What is the Imperial Justice system? 7. What's the deal with these Observers? V. About the Observers. 1. What is the Rod? 2. Huh? A what-laced whosit? 3. And it was sent by whom? 4. So what are Master Types? 5. Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar] 6. What is Ultra Energy? 7. What is the Multiverse? 8. Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside? 9. What about Rebecca? 10. What is The Experiment? 11. Why are the Observers off-limits? VI. Q & A section. 1. Author's questions for the reader. 2. Questions from readers; answered. ======================================================================= I. Darkside's Motto and Themes. (1) What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories? To Quote from Nicolo Machiaveli's "The Prince", 1513 C.E.: "There is nothing more difficult to plan, more doubtful of success nor more dangerous to manage than the creation of a new system. For the initiator has the enmity of all who would profit by the preservation of the old institutions and merely lukewarm defenders in those who would gain by the new ones. The hesitation of the latter arises in part from the fear of their adversaries, who have the laws on their side, and in part from the general skepticisism of mankind which does not really believe in an innovation until experience proves it's value. So it happens that whenever his enemies have occasion to attack the innovator they can do with the passion of partisans while the others defened him sluggishly, so that the innovator and party are alike vulnerable." (2) What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories? An exploration of the concepts of "good" and "evil" in an atmosphere that doesn't shy away from the sexual elements of those concepts. The attempt is to see how the definitions can change according to the context. Or, as an astute reader said: "a synergy between relativistic good and evil". II. About the Author. (1) Who is KTM? KTM are the initials (sorta) of the author of the Darkside series. It is the way she signs the drawings she does for her own pleasure. She uses her initials because she wants to publish professionally someday in the "straight" fiction field. (2) What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person? "Eileen Stone" is the pseudonym/handle that KTM uses on her ANSI BBS, The MultiVersal Dreams. That's where she posts the stories to Usenet. (3) What are her favorite kinds of stories? She prefers to read Science Fiction and Fantasy stories, but isn't afraid of trying other genres if they're well written. (4) What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories? She likes Science Fiction and Fantasy erotica, as well. However, she doesn't turn away any sexy story if it has a good plot, well described characters, and displays a good command of the language (and basic text formatting). (5) Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories? KTM loves to write, and wants to do so professionally. She writes the Darkside series in order to hone her craft. It's her first try at erotica, and it's her way of giving something back to the USENET alt.sex.stories.* hierarchy from which she has derived much enjoyment and inspiration. (6) Does she write any other kinds of Fiction? She does write short stories and is working on a novel or three in the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres (big surprise, there). (7) How can I contact the author? You can mail the author at: [email protected], this account is checked at least once daily. There is a mailing list at DRKLIST <[email protected]> Send a message to [email protected], with a Subject of SUBSCRIBE DRKLIST, and nothing needed in the body. To unsubscribe send a message to the address with a Subject of UNSUBSCRIBE DRKLIST, and nothing needed in the body. An auto-response should be generated to you, and a rules file (the latest copy of this FAQ) should be sent as well. If you have any problems with this procedure, mail the address above. (8) Where can I find the Stories? [PLEASE! Do NOT write and ask for any of the episodes. As a rule KTM will not send them, as that would leave her liable if a minor is on the other end of the mail. All you'll get is a form letter that gives you the information that's included below...] Most reliably, try the ASSTR archives for Stories and Art: ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/The_World_of_The_Darkside/ Or, http://asstr.ml.org/mainframe.html Try DejaNews under "Darkside: USAN". If the most recent database doesn't show it, try the older one. Another way would be to search for "Eileen Stone" and look for the alt.sex.* newsgroups. Search the web for "Grey's Erotic Archive", currently located at: http://www2.fenetre.co.uk/pyros/archive.htm. Look under the "Paranormal" Category for Darkside. And finally, check alt.sex.stories.moderated periodically.This is for the current Volume: The United States of Anarchy. Vol: EP: Episode Title, [Notes]. * = Released on the net. ------------------------------------------------------------ USAN 01* The Boy in the Attic. 02* Indian Cavern. 03* Robert's Revenge. 04* The Dark Palace. 05* Gifts of Power. 06* Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned. 07* The Spreading Darkness, [1st Expansion: SW of Great Lakes]. 08* She Blinded Me With Science. 09* A Little Power is a Dangerous Thing. 10* When the Cat's Away, the Mice will Play. 11* Within The Fist of Darkness, [2nd Expansion: NE America]. 12* Braving The Fimbul Winter, [First Trucker Society]. 13. Un-Pleasant Valley, [Post: Testifiers Mini]. 14 The Slither-Thing, [Finally explained]. 15. Green Eyed Wanderer. 16 The Charge Keeper, [Post: The Mage Clans Mini]. 17 They're Coming to Take me Away, [Mind Control]. 18 The Mystic Woods, [Second Trucker Society]. 19 The White Tower, [Rebecca]. 20 Imperial States of America, [3rd Expansion: USA]. USAN's aim was to show the pre-Imperial anarchy and how Robert starts to tame it. The next Volume will be called the Imperial States of America (ISAM) and will cover what America under the Empire is like, and shows how he moves on the rest of the world. A third volume would be Imperial Earth (IMER) and show what happens to the Darkside once Robert gets his wish. What's next? Maybe the Empire will head for the stars. (6) Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside? Hmmmm. Perhaps later, when more is revealed. If you'd like to do so, and you are using characters KTM invented, they will be considered Alternate Histories and should be labeled as such. A Story may be declared "Canon" if KTM decides that it fully fits in the Story World. Secondly, The Observers themselves are off-limits unless they are depicted in the act of Observing from the Bubble. The Rod, however, is not off-limits. (7) Can I draw fan art based in the series? This would be welcome. If anyone wants to send the author their drawings, feel free. Just be aware that by submitting the art, you are granting permission for the work to be posted freely to the asstr site, but that such submission doesn't constitute a guarantee that it *will* be posted for whatever reason. The Characters are copyright of KTM, but the Artwork will be copyright of the creator. IV. About the World of the Darkside. (1) Who are the characters in the different Volumes? Vol: EP: Character, (Episode #) Further information, [Notes]. ------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 1. Robbie Black, (2) Robert Black. 1. Mom, (3) Maggie Black. 1. Sissy, (3) Susan Black. 1. Wolf, (3) granted Power, [Morphed], (11) [Power Team]. 1. Skull, (3) Deceased. 1. Bear, (3) Deceased. 1. Red, (3) Rodney, (3) Deceased. 2. Rod, The. [Item/Character]. 4. Traci, (Kitten), [Morphed]. 5. Jerry Conners (7) Blur, [Power Team]. 5. Mr. Duncan, [Townie, from Winneshiek County]. 5. Rebecca White, [White Power holder]. 5. Slither-Thing, The. [???] (14) [More revealed]. 6. "Ugly", Destructionist MT, [Observer]. 6. Rider, Creationist MT: TM, [Observer]. 6. Kruegar, Ultra-Entity, [Observer]. 7. Titan, (9) Hank Dodds, (10) Stripped of his power. 7. General Stark. (11) Deceased. 7. Lt. Dan Jenners (10) Converted to the Empire. (12) Captain. 7. Mr. Miller, Iowa's Governor, [Iowa Administration]. 7. Don Corello, Mafia, [Illinois Administration]. 8. Liz Tyler, [Imperial Science Minister]. 8. Mariko Michaelson, [Chemist]. 9. Karen Fischer, Osprey, [Power Team]. 9. Charity Jones, [Power Team]. 9. Zechiel Peters, Teke, [Power Team]. 9. Ali "Luke" Al-Raji, Sapphire, [Power Team]. 9. Joanne Barrett, Lady Web, [Power Team]. 9. Tim Melaui, Warp, [Power Team]. 9. Paris Simmons, Seeker, [Power Team]. 10. Alyssa, (4) Orphan, [Imperial Page]. 11. Sergeant Brad Donovan, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Corporal Steven Leigh, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Corporal Benny "Mac" MacFee, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Private Doug Renes, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Private Kyle Simms, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Tom King, [Town Councilman]. 11. Tanya King, [Tom King's daughter]. 11. Carol King, [Tom King's niece]. 12. Gary Miller, [Captain; Knights of the Open Road Society]. 12. Candy Kane, [Member; K.O.R.S.]. 12. Kieth Thomas, [Sheriff; Eagle, CO]. 12. Sondra Eriks, [Healer]. (2) What can the Power Team members do? Blur: A standard super speedster. Titan: Super-strong and nearly invulnerable; a "brick". Dis-empowered. Osprey: "Winged" flight & semi-invulnerable; slightly telekinetic. Charity: Receptive and projective empathy; a Sensitive. Teke: Telekinetic; levitates, lifts, shields, and shoves. Sapphire: Controlled powered flight, & blue energy blasts. Lady Web: Truth-teller & mind-linker; Not fully telepathic (yet). Warp: Line-of-sight combat teleporter teen; with packet bombs. ;&> Seeker: Long range, detailed clairvoyance; slightly precognitive. [Wolf: Half-animal morph; strength, speed, & natural weapons.] (3) What are the Towers? They are colored Towers of the Black Palace that represent the headquarters of different branches of the Imperial Government. Whether they stand for the Administration, a Ministry, or Institute, the branches will use the colored Towers as their symbol throughout the Empire. [A Ministry is dedicated to the Control and Direction of a thing, while an Institute is dedicated the Study and Propagation of a thing.] Vol: Ep: Tower: Function, Supervisor, [Notes]. -------------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 7 Black Administration Robert Black [Government]. 8 Copper Science Ministry Liz Tyler [Science Research]. ? 19 White ? (4) What is Imperial Law? As post-Colonial American Law was based on British Common Law, the Legal Code of the Empire is based on 'American Common Law'. This is the foundation that Robert is using to govern his Empire. He changes aspects of this Code as the situation seems to warrant, and is having his decisions recorded for further reflection and application. (5) What are some of the Codes? Vol: Ep: Law Code: Status, [Notes]. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 4. Indenturement: Legal, [Used to pay public or private Debts]. 6. Drug use and sale: Legal, [Now, it's regular commerce]. 6. Sex-acts, Consensual, for pay: Legal [Regular commerce]. 6. Sex-acts, Consensual, *Any*: Legal. 6. Child Abuse, (under 12): Illegal, [Harshly punished]. 10. Sex-acts, Non-consensual: Illegal, [Harsh punishments]. 12. Abuse of Power by Military/LEOs: Illegal, [Harshly punished]. ? (6) What is the Imperial Justice system? Not described yet. Soon. Some in Chapter 13, and probably #19. (7) What's the deal with these Observers? They are the Deus Ex Machina that explains why the Darkside's history has diverged so radically from our own. They also provide a larger point of view of the World. One from "outside of the box", if you will. They provide a way to comment on the story from out of its context. V. About the Observers. (1) What is the Rod? It is a Meta-laced Destructionist artifact-weapon designed to corrupt a mortal to darkness and to take his world with him. (2) Huh? A what-laced whosit? Meta. A term borrowed from Wizards of the Coast's RPG Supplement; "The Primal Order". Used in this case to indicate a level of power that is above that of the Godly 'Primal' energy. Above Meta is Ultra. Magic/Psionics/Powers = Mortal level powers. Primal = Godly. Mortal powers cannot affect them. Meta = Master Types. Primals cannot affect them. Ultra = Creators/Destructors. Meta powers cannot affect them. (3) And it was sent by whom? The Destructionist branch of the Master Types. Above the Gods and beneath those that Create and Destroy all are the class of beings that are in-between. Those who report to the Creative side of Ultra are the Creationists. They are dedicated to the ideals of Life, Order, and Anti-Entropy, but their execution is sometimes less than perfect. Those opposed to them are the Destructionists; bent on causing Death, Chaos and Entropy, and with a similar caveat as to their performance. (4) So what are Master Types? Another borrowed term, this time from Michael Moorcock. In his works it refers to a single godlike being who "represents" a kind of animal. In the mythology of the stories, every kind of animal, even humans, has a whole race of meta-powered beings to represent them. The leader of each kind is called the Type Master, who is the chief of their Type and Clan. (5) Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar] "Ugly": Don't quite know, yet. A non-humanoid Destructionist Master Type, but not the Type Master of his kind. Rider: The Hom (Humanoid) Type Master. Kruegar: A lesser Ultra being in service to the Ultimate Powers. (6) What is Ultra Energy? The kind of energy possessed by the Ultimate Powers. They are the Multiversal Creator, known as Lord Shadow, and 'His' (Its) opposite and other face, Lord Kaos. Each Universal dimension in the Multiverse has a piece of this energy as its Spark. Sometimes this is embodied as a Universal Creator, who is the model for the chief God of every mythos. Sometimes it is merely an abstract 'Force'. Ultra power always assumes its opposite half. The Destructor's goal is to bring the untimely end of everything, and serves the whole by destroying what is unneeded.The Creative force brings new life and energy to what has been recycled. In a young Multiverse, the Creative force is the predominant, but inevitably, the Multiverse will wear down, succumb to Entropy, and Chaos will reign until the cycle begins anew. (7) What is the Multiverse? Go watch some Sliders. Every bit of Fiction, every single possibility is a distinct Dimensional Universe. The Multiverse is the sum of all the Universes. They are arranged by the Master Types by which power is predominant in them, whether the positive side or the negative kind. "Midpoint" is the theoretical middle point on this scale. It's where the balance shifts from one to the other. The clan with more of the scale on their side of Midpoint is the ascendant power. The Scale has Moebius properties as well. Creation Destruction |<-Inside | /////////////////////.\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ | Outside->| ^ Midpoint (8) Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside? The Rod was an attempt to shift the dimension to the negative side of the scale, thereby shifting the Midpoint without a costly (and painful) battle. It was a tactical point in a cosmic turf war. (9) What about Rebecca? She was empowered by Creationists in order to try to counteract the influence of the Rod. A tactical counterpoint; far more subtle than the first. (10) What is The Experiment? This dimension has been declared "out-of-bounds" to both sides. An observing body of Creationists and Destructionists chaired by Kruegar has been appointed to oversee the results. They have shielded the Universe with an impenetrable, isolating bubble, and will occasionally comment on its progress from a Council room in a smaller bubble attached to the Shield. (11) Why are the Observers off-limits? Because KTM plans on using them in regular fiction someday, and needs to control their usage. VI. Q & A section. (1) Author's questions for the reader. * What do you like or don't like about the stories? * What kind of characters or situations would you like to see? * What kind of sexual content are you looking for in the stories? * What other kinds of reactions have you had to the stories? * What do you see happening in the future of this world? (2) Questions from readers; answered. * Will Robert ever become a Good-Guy? Kinda depends on your definition of "Good-Guy" now, doesn't it? From Robert's point of view, he is a good guy. Everything he does is because he believes it's the best choice to further what he perceives to be important and beneficial. He doesn't believe in any standard of morality other than his own conscience. * Will Robert and Rebecca ever get together? Now, that would be telling. :) * Is Rebecca Robert's foil, or is it the other way around? That has yet to be decided. * Are full edit/rewrites planned after each Volume's completion? Yes. It's a first release, that's already been through several, but a major edit is planned for the future. Eileen Stone, #2 The MultiVersal Dreams BBS, [email protected]

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/14487.txt

Eileen Stone

The Darkside: USAN FAQ

--------------------------- The Darkside Universe FAQ --------------------------- FAQ Version: 0.12c FAQ Updated: 7/26/98 Covering up to Episode: USAN 12. TABLE OF CONTENTS: ======================================================================= I. Darkside's Motto and Theme. 1. What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories? 2. What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories? II. About the Author. 1. Who is KTM? 2. What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person? 3. What are her favorite kinds of stories? 4. What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories? 5. Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories? 6. Does she write any other kinds of Fiction? 7. How can I contact the author? 8. Where can I find the Stories? III. About the Stories. 1. Does KTM just 'wing' the stories, or is there a plan? 2. Has the plan been altered? 3. What are the mini-stories? 4. Will the stories be published? 5. What are the planned episodes and Volumes? 6. Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside? 7. Can I draw fan art based in the series? IV. About the World of the Darkside. 1. Who are the characters in the different Volumes? 2. What can the Power Team members do? 3. What are the Towers? 4. What is Imperial Law? 5. What are some of the Codes? 6. What is the Imperial Justice system? 7. What's the deal with these Observers? V. About the Observers. 1. What is the Rod? 2. Huh? A what-laced whosit? 3. And it was sent by whom? 4. So what are Master Types? 5. Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar] 6. What is Ultra Energy? 7. What is the Multiverse? 8. Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside? 9. What about Rebecca? 10. What is The Experiment? 11. Why are the Observers off-limits? VI. Q & A section. 1. Author's questions for the reader. 2. Questions from readers; answered. ======================================================================= I. Darkside's Motto and Themes. (1) What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories? To Quote from Nicolo Machiaveli's "The Prince", 1513 C.E.: "There is nothing more difficult to plan, more doubtful of success nor more dangerous to manage than the creation of a new system. For the initiator has the enmity of all who would profit by the preservation of the old institutions and merely lukewarm defenders in those who would gain by the new ones. The hesitation of the latter arises in part from the fear of their adversaries, who have the laws on their side, and in part from the general skepticisism of mankind which does not really believe in an innovation until experience proves it's value. So it happens that whenever his enemies have occasion to attack the innovator they can do with the passion of partisans while the others defened him sluggishly, so that the innovator and party are alike vulnerable." (2) What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories? An exploration of the concepts of "good" and "evil" in an atmosphere that doesn't shy away from the sexual elements of those concepts. The attempt is to see how the definitions can change according to the context. Or, as an astute reader said: "a synergy between relativistic good and evil". II. About the Author. (1) Who is KTM? KTM are the initials (sorta) of the author of the Darkside series. It is the way she signs the drawings she does for her own pleasure. She uses her initials because she wants to publish professionally someday in the "straight" fiction field. (2) What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person? "Eileen Stone" is the pseudonym/handle that KTM uses on her ANSI BBS, The MultiVersal Dreams. That's where she posts the stories to Usenet. (3) What are her favorite kinds of stories? She prefers to read Science Fiction and Fantasy stories, but isn't afraid of trying other genres if they're well written. (4) What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories? She likes Science Fiction and Fantasy erotica, as well. However, she doesn't turn away any sexy story if it has a good plot, well described characters, and displays a good command of the language (and basic text formatting). (5) Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories? KTM loves to write, and wants to do so professionally. She writes the Darkside series in order to hone her craft. It's her first try at erotica, and it's her way of giving something back to the USENET alt.sex.stories.* hierarchy from which she has derived much enjoyment and inspiration. (6) Does she write any other kinds of Fiction? She does write short stories and is working on a novel or three in the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres (big surprise, there). (7) How can I contact the author? You can mail the author at: [email protected], this account is checked at least once daily. There is a mailing list at DRKLIST <[email protected]> Send a message to [email protected], with a Subject of SUBSCRIBE DRKLIST, and nothing needed in the body. To unsubscribe send a message to the address with a Subject of UNSUBSCRIBE DRKLIST, and nothing needed in the body. An auto-response should be generated to you, and a rules file (the latest copy of this FAQ) should be sent as well. If you have any problems with this procedure, mail the address above. (8) Where can I find the Stories? [PLEASE! Do NOT write and ask for any of the episodes. As a rule KTM will not send them, as that would leave her liable if a minor is on the other end of the mail. All you'll get is a form letter that gives you the information that's included below...] Most reliably, try the ASSTR archives for Stories and Art: ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/The_World_of_The_Darkside/ Or, http://asstr.ml.org/mainframe.html Try DejaNews under "Darkside: USAN". If the most recent database doesn't show it, try the older one. Another way would be to search for "Eileen Stone" and look for the alt.sex.* newsgroups. Search the web for "Grey's Erotic Archive", currently located at: http://www2.fenetre.co.uk/pyros/archive.htm. Look under the "Paranormal" Category for Darkside. And finally, check alt.sex.stories.moderated periodically.This is for the current Volume: The United States of Anarchy. Vol: EP: Episode Title, [Notes]. * = Released on the net. ------------------------------------------------------------ USAN 01* The Boy in the Attic. 02* Indian Cavern. 03* Robert's Revenge. 04* The Dark Palace. 05* Gifts of Power. 06* Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned. 07* The Spreading Darkness, [1st Expansion: SW of Great Lakes]. 08* She Blinded Me With Science. 09* A Little Power is a Dangerous Thing. 10* When the Cat's Away, the Mice will Play. 11* Within The Fist of Darkness, [2nd Expansion: NE America]. 12* Braving The Fimbul Winter, [First Trucker Society]. 13. Un-Pleasant Valley, [Post: Testifiers Mini]. 14 The Slither-Thing, [Finally explained]. 15. Green Eyed Wanderer. 16 The Charge Keeper, [Post: The Mage Clans Mini]. 17 They're Coming to Take me Away, [Mind Control]. 18 The Mystic Woods, [Second Trucker Society]. 19 The White Tower, [Rebecca]. 20 Imperial States of America, [3rd Expansion: USA]. USAN's aim was to show the pre-Imperial anarchy and how Robert starts to tame it. The next Volume will be called the Imperial States of America (ISAM) and will cover what America under the Empire is like, and shows how he moves on the rest of the world. A third volume would be Imperial Earth (IMER) and show what happens to the Darkside once Robert gets his wish. What's next? Maybe the Empire will head for the stars. (6) Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside? Hmmmm. Perhaps later, when more is revealed. If you'd like to do so, and you are using characters KTM invented, they will be considered Alternate Histories and should be labeled as such. A Story may be declared "Canon" if KTM decides that it fully fits in the Story World. Secondly, The Observers themselves are off-limits unless they are depicted in the act of Observing from the Bubble. The Rod, however, is not off-limits. (7) Can I draw fan art based in the series? This would be welcome. If anyone wants to send the author their drawings, feel free. Just be aware that by submitting the art, you are granting permission for the work to be posted freely to the asstr site, but that such submission doesn't constitute a guarantee that it *will* be posted for whatever reason. The Characters are copyright of KTM, but the Artwork will be copyright of the creator. IV. About the World of the Darkside. (1) Who are the characters in the different Volumes? Vol: EP: Character, (Episode #) Further information, [Notes]. ------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 1. Robbie Black, (2) Robert Black. 1. Mom, (3) Maggie Black. 1. Sissy, (3) Susan Black. 1. Wolf, (3) granted Power, [Morphed], (11) [Power Team]. 1. Skull, (3) Deceased. 1. Bear, (3) Deceased. 1. Red, (3) Rodney, (3) Deceased. 2. Rod, The. [Item/Character]. 4. Traci, (Kitten), [Morphed]. 5. Jerry Conners (7) Blur, [Power Team]. 5. Mr. Duncan, [Townie, from Winneshiek County]. 5. Rebecca White, [White Power holder]. 5. Slither-Thing, The. [???] (14) [More revealed]. 6. "Ugly", Destructionist MT, [Observer]. 6. Rider, Creationist MT: TM, [Observer]. 6. Kruegar, Ultra-Entity, [Observer]. 7. Titan, (9) Hank Dodds, (10) Stripped of his power. 7. General Stark. (11) Deceased. 7. Lt. Dan Jenners (10) Converted to the Empire. (12) Captain. 7. Mr. Miller, Iowa's Governor, [Iowa Administration]. 7. Don Corello, Mafia, [Illinois Administration]. 8. Liz Tyler, [Imperial Science Minister]. 8. Mariko Michaelson, [Chemist]. 9. Karen Fischer, Osprey, [Power Team]. 9. Charity Jones, [Power Team]. 9. Zechiel Peters, Teke, [Power Team]. 9. Ali "Luke" Al-Raji, Sapphire, [Power Team]. 9. Joanne Barrett, Lady Web, [Power Team]. 9. Tim Melaui, Warp, [Power Team]. 9. Paris Simmons, Seeker, [Power Team]. 10. Alyssa, (4) Orphan, [Imperial Page]. 11. Sergeant Brad Donovan, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Corporal Steven Leigh, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Corporal Benny "Mac" MacFee, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Private Doug Renes, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Private Kyle Simms, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Tom King, [Town Councilman]. 11. Tanya King, [Tom King's daughter]. 11. Carol King, [Tom King's niece]. 12. Gary Miller, [Captain; Knights of the Open Road Society]. 12. Candy Kane, [Member; K.O.R.S.]. 12. Kieth Thomas, [Sheriff; Eagle, CO]. 12. Sondra Eriks, [Healer]. (2) What can the Power Team members do? Blur: A standard super speedster. Titan: Super-strong and nearly invulnerable; a "brick". Dis-empowered. Osprey: "Winged" flight & semi-invulnerable; slightly telekinetic. Charity: Receptive and projective empathy; a Sensitive. Teke: Telekinetic; levitates, lifts, shields, and shoves. Sapphire: Controlled powered flight, & blue energy blasts. Lady Web: Truth-teller & mind-linker; Not fully telepathic (yet). Warp: Line-of-sight combat teleporter teen; with packet bombs. ;&> Seeker: Long range, detailed clairvoyance; slightly precognitive. [Wolf: Half-animal morph; strength, speed, & natural weapons.] (3) What are the Towers? They are colored Towers of the Black Palace that represent the headquarters of different branches of the Imperial Government. Whether they stand for the Administration, a Ministry, or Institute, the branches will use the colored Towers as their symbol throughout the Empire. [A Ministry is dedicated to the Control and Direction of a thing, while an Institute is dedicated the Study and Propagation of a thing.] Vol: Ep: Tower: Function, Supervisor, [Notes]. -------------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 7 Black Administration Robert Black [Government]. 8 Copper Science Ministry Liz Tyler [Science Research]. ? 19 White ? (4) What is Imperial Law? As post-Colonial American Law was based on British Common Law, the Legal Code of the Empire is based on 'American Common Law'. This is the foundation that Robert is using to govern his Empire. He changes aspects of this Code as the situation seems to warrant, and is having his decisions recorded for further reflection and application. (5) What are some of the Codes? Vol: Ep: Law Code: Status, [Notes]. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 4. Indenturement: Legal, [Used to pay public or private Debts]. 6. Drug use and sale: Legal, [Now, it's regular commerce]. 6. Sex-acts, Consensual, for pay: Legal [Regular commerce]. 6. Sex-acts, Consensual, *Any*: Legal. 6. Child Abuse, (under 12): Illegal, [Harshly punished]. 10. Sex-acts, Non-consensual: Illegal, [Harsh punishments]. 12. Abuse of Power by Military/LEOs: Illegal, [Harshly punished]. ? (6) What is the Imperial Justice system? Not described yet. Soon. Some in Chapter 13, and probably #19. (7) What's the deal with these Observers? They are the Deus Ex Machina that explains why the Darkside's history has diverged so radically from our own. They also provide a larger point of view of the World. One from "outside of the box", if you will. They provide a way to comment on the story from out of its context. V. About the Observers. (1) What is the Rod? It is a Meta-laced Destructionist artifact-weapon designed to corrupt a mortal to darkness and to take his world with him. (2) Huh? A what-laced whosit? Meta. A term borrowed from Wizards of the Coast's RPG Supplement; "The Primal Order". Used in this case to indicate a level of power that is above that of the Godly 'Primal' energy. Above Meta is Ultra. Magic/Psionics/Powers = Mortal level powers. Primal = Godly. Mortal powers cannot affect them. Meta = Master Types. Primals cannot affect them. Ultra = Creators/Destructors. Meta powers cannot affect them. (3) And it was sent by whom? The Destructionist branch of the Master Types. Above the Gods and beneath those that Create and Destroy all are the class of beings that are in-between. Those who report to the Creative side of Ultra are the Creationists. They are dedicated to the ideals of Life, Order, and Anti-Entropy, but their execution is sometimes less than perfect. Those opposed to them are the Destructionists; bent on causing Death, Chaos and Entropy, and with a similar caveat as to their performance. (4) So what are Master Types? Another borrowed term, this time from Michael Moorcock. In his works it refers to a single godlike being who "represents" a kind of animal. In the mythology of the stories, every kind of animal, even humans, has a whole race of meta-powered beings to represent them. The leader of each kind is called the Type Master, who is the chief of their Type and Clan. (5) Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar] "Ugly": Don't quite know, yet. A non-humanoid Destructionist Master Type, but not the Type Master of his kind. Rider: The Hom (Humanoid) Type Master. Kruegar: A lesser Ultra being in service to the Ultimate Powers. (6) What is Ultra Energy? The kind of energy possessed by the Ultimate Powers. They are the Multiversal Creator, known as Lord Shadow, and 'His' (Its) opposite and other face, Lord Kaos. Each Universal dimension in the Multiverse has a piece of this energy as its Spark. Sometimes this is embodied as a Universal Creator, who is the model for the chief God of every mythos. Sometimes it is merely an abstract 'Force'. Ultra power always assumes its opposite half. The Destructor's goal is to bring the untimely end of everything, and serves the whole by destroying what is unneeded.The Creative force brings new life and energy to what has been recycled. In a young Multiverse, the Creative force is the predominant, but inevitably, the Multiverse will wear down, succumb to Entropy, and Chaos will reign until the cycle begins anew. (7) What is the Multiverse? Go watch some Sliders. Every bit of Fiction, every single possibility is a distinct Dimensional Universe. The Multiverse is the sum of all the Universes. They are arranged by the Master Types by which power is predominant in them, whether the positive side or the negative kind. "Midpoint" is the theoretical middle point on this scale. It's where the balance shifts from one to the other. The clan with more of the scale on their side of Midpoint is the ascendant power. The Scale has Moebius properties as well. Creation Destruction |<-Inside | /////////////////////.\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ | Outside->| ^ Midpoint (8) Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside? The Rod was an attempt to shift the dimension to the negative side of the scale, thereby shifting the Midpoint without a costly (and painful) battle. It was a tactical point in a cosmic turf war. (9) What about Rebecca? She was empowered by Creationists in order to try to counteract the influence of the Rod. A tactical counterpoint; far more subtle than the first. (10) What is The Experiment? This dimension has been declared "out-of-bounds" to both sides. An observing body of Creationists and Destructionists chaired by Kruegar has been appointed to oversee the results. They have shielded the Universe with an impenetrable, isolating bubble, and will occasionally comment on its progress from a Council room in a smaller bubble attached to the Shield. (11) Why are the Observers off-limits? Because KTM plans on using them in regular fiction some day, and needs to control their usage. VI. Q & A section. (1) Author's questions for the reader. * What do you like or don't like about the stories? * What kind of characters or situations would you like to see? * What kind of sexual content are you looking for in the stories? * What other kinds of reactions have you had to the stories? * What do you see happening in the future of this world? (2) Questions from readers; answered. * Will Robert ever become a Good-Guy? Kinda depends on your definition of "Good-Guy" now, doesn't it? From Robert's point of view, he is a good guy. Everything he does is because he believes it's the best choice to further what he perceives to be important and beneficial. He doesn't believe in any standard of morality other than his own conscience. * Will Robert and Rebecca ever get together? Now, that would be telling. :) * Is Rebecca Robert's foil, or is it the other way around? That has yet to be decided. * Are full edit/rewrites planned after each Volume's completion? Yes. It's a first release, that's already been through several, but a major edit is planned for the future. Eileen Stone, #2 The MultiVersal Dreams BBS, [email protected]

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/14487.txt

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Authors/scribblesofanegoist/whoismaxstirner/mypublickey.txt

KTM

The Darkside Universe FAQ

--------------------------- The Darkside Universe FAQ --------------------------- FAQ Version: 0.17 FAQ Updated: 02/07/2000 Covering up to Episode: USAN 17. * Indicates new material since the previous FAQ. TABLE OF CONTENTS: ======================================================================= I. Darkside's Motto and Theme. 1. What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories? 2. What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories? II. About the Author. 1. Who is KTM? 2. What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person? 3. What are her favorite kinds of stories? 4. What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories? 5. Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories? * 6. Does she write any other kinds of Fiction? * 7. How can I contact the author? * 8. Where can I find the Stories? III. About the Stories. * 1. Does KTM just 'wing' the stories, or is there a plan? 2. Has the plan been altered? 3. Will the stories be published? 4. What are the planned episodes and Volumes? 5. Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside? 6. Can I draw fan art based in the series? IV. About the World of the Darkside. * 1. Who are the characters in the different Volumes? 2. What can the Power Team members do? 3. What are the Towers? 4. What is Imperial Law? 5. What are some of the Codes? 6. What is the Imperial Justice system (in a nutshell)? 7. What's the deal with these Observers? V. About the Observers. 1. What is the Rod? 2. Huh? A what-laced whosit? 3. And it was sent by whom? 4. So what are Master Types? 5. Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar] 6. What is Ultra Energy? 7. What is the Multiverse? 8. Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside? 9. What about Rebecca? 10. What is The Experiment? 11. Why are the Observers off-limits? VI. Q & A section. 1. Author's questions for the reader. 2. Questions from readers; answered. ======================================================================= I. Darkside's Motto and Themes. (1) What is the Motto for the Darkside Stories? To Quote from Nicolo Machiaveli's "The Prince", 1513 C.E.: "There is nothing more difficult to plan, more doubtful of success nor more dangerous to manage than the creation of a new system. For the initiator has the enmity of all who would profit by the preservation of the old institutions and merely lukewarm defenders in those who would gain by the new ones. The hesitation of the latter arises in part from the fear of their adversaries, who have the laws on their side, and in part from the general skepticisism of mankind which does not really believe in an innovation until experience proves it's value. So it happens that whenever his enemies have occasion to attack the innovator they can do with the passion of partisans while the others defend him sluggishly, so that the innovator and party are alike vulnerable." (2) What is the Theme of the Darkside Stories? An exploration of the concepts of "good" and "evil" in an atmosphere that doesn't shy away from the sexual elements of those concepts. The attempt is to see how the definitions can change according to the context. Or, as an astute reader said: "a synergy between relativistic good and evil". II. About the Author. (1) Who is KTM? KTM are the initials (sorta) of the author of the Darkside series. It is the way she signs the drawings she does for her own pleasure. She uses her initials because she wants to publish professionally someday in the "straight" fiction field. (2) What does she have to do with this 'Eileen Stone' person? "Eileen Stone" is the pseudonym/handle that KTM uses online. (3) What are her favorite kinds of stories? She prefers to read Science Fiction and Fantasy stories, but isn't afraid of trying other genres if they're well written. (4) What are her favorite kinds of erotic stories? She likes Science Fiction and Fantasy erotica, as well. However, she doesn't turn away any sexy story if it has a good plot, well described characters, and displays a good command of the language (and basic text formatting). (5) Why is KTM writing the Darkside Stories? KTM loves to write, and wants to do so professionally. She writes the Darkside series in order to hone her craft. It's her first try at erotica, and it's her way of giving something back to the USENET alt.sex.stories.* hierarchy from which she has derived much enjoyment and inspiration. *(6) Does she write any other kinds of Fiction? She does write short stories and is working on a novel or three in the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres (big surprise, there). She's also in the Critters Online SF/F/H Workshop. She's won a couple of online contests for her short stories that she's proud of. *(7) How can I contact the author? [email protected], [email protected], or ICQ #2117093. *(8) Where can I find the Stories? [PLEASE! Do *NOT* write and ask for any of the episodes. As a rule KTM will *NOT* send them, as that would leave her liable if a minor is on the other end of the mail. All you'll get is a form letter that gives you the information that's included below...] * First off, try the ASSTR archives for Stories and Art: "ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/World_of_the_Darkside/" Some author created artwork relating to the stories can be found there. The Web version of the author's site can be found at "http://www.asstr.org/~World_of_the_Darkside" The author is pleased the Darkside Stories can be found at a classy private archive called the Domain of Darkness, at: "http://www.domainofdarkness.com/stories.html" * Search the web for "The Grey Archive", currently located at: "http://www.greyarchive.com" Look under the "Paranormal" Category for the Darkside. Try DejaNews under "Darkside: USAN". If the most recent database doesn't show it, try the older one. Another way would be to search for "Eileen Stone" and look for the alt.sex.* newsgroups. And finally, check alt.sex.stories.moderated periodically. III. About the Stories. *(1) Does KTM just 'wing' the stories, or is there a Plan? There is a detailed, overall plan in outline form, that carries the stories not only through this Volume of 20 stories, but two more besides. (Several Mini series were also in the plan, but it's doubtful that she will get to them. Instead she will expand the current story (like with #16) to give sufficient background. #13 will probably be next elaborated on; the short version made the story suffer.) The plan goes decades into the future, and covers the way the characters change and grow. (Something that is considered vital by the author for a good story.) (2) Has the Plan been altered? No. Things are progressing right on schedule. The Darkside was first created as a freeform Role-playing game, with adult nuances. Such an environment encourages character development. The stories are not session by session, of course. A great deal of editing and alteration was needed. (3) Will the stories be published? Unsure. Print publishers don't like to publish stories that can be found for free on the net. The main Darkside storyline was KTM's way of giving back to the net. She didn't write it with the expectation that it be published, but she would be pleased if it was. (4) What are the planned episodes and Volumes? This is for the current Volume: The United States of Anarchy. Vol: EP: Episode Title, [Notes]. * = Released on the net. ------------------------------------------------------------ USAN 01* The Boy in the Attic. 02* Indian Cavern. 03* Robert's Revenge. 04* The Dark Palace [Initial Control, Springfield, Iowa]. 05* Gifts of Power. 06* Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned. 07* The Spreading Darkness, [1st Expansion: SW of Great Lakes]. 08* She Blinded Me With Science, [Planning for the Future]. 09* A Little Power is a Dangerous Thing. 10* When the Cat's Away, the Mice will Play. 11* Within The Fist of Darkness, [2nd Expansion: NE America]. 12* Braving The Fimbul Winter, [First Trucker Society]. 13* Un-Pleasant Valley, [Testifiers]. 14* The Slither-Thing, [Finally explained]. 15* Green Eyed Wanderer. 16* The Charge Keeper, a & b [The Mage Clans]. 17. They're Coming to Take me Away, [Mind Control]. 18 The Mystic Woods, [Second Trucker Society]. 19 The White Tower, [Rebecca & Imperial Law]. 20 Imperial States of America, [3rd Expansion: USA]. USAN's aim was to show the pre-Imperial anarchy, and how Robert starts to tame it. The next Volume will be called the Imperial States of America (ISAM), and will cover what America under the Empire is like, and shows how he moves on the rest of the world. A third volume would be Imperial Earth (IMER), and show what happens to the Darkside once Robert gets his wish. What's next? Maybe the Empire will head for the Stars. (5) Can anyone write fiction based in the Darkside? Hmmmm. Perhaps later, when more is revealed.If you'd like to do so, and you are using characters KTM invented, they will be considered Alternate Histories, and should be labeled as such. A Story may be declared "Canon" if KTM decides that it fully fits in the Story World. Secondly, The Observers themselves are off-limits unless they are depicted in the act of Observing from the Bubble. The Rod, however, is not off-limits. (6) Can I draw fan art based in the series? This would be welcome. If anyone wants to send the author their drawings, feel free. Just be aware that by submitting the art, you are granting permission for the work to be posted freely to the asstr site, but that such submission doesn't constitute a guarantee that it *will* be posted for whatever reason. The Characters are copyright of KTM, but the Artwork will be copyright of the creator. IV. About the World of the Darkside. (1) Who are the characters in the different Volumes? Vol: EP: Character, (Episode #) Further information, [Notes]. ------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 01. Robbie Black, (2) Robert Black. 01. Mom, (3) Maggie Black. 01. Sissy, (3) Susan Black. 01. Wolf, (3) granted Power, [Wolf Morphed], (11) [Power Team]. 01. Skull, (3) Deceased. 01. Bear, (3) Deceased. 01. Red, (3) Rodney, (3) Deceased. 02. Rod, The. [Item/Character]. 04. Traci, (Kitten), [Cat Morphed]. 05. Jerry Conners (7) Blur, [Power Team]. 05. Mr. Duncan, [Townie, from Winneshiek County, Iowa]. 05. Rebecca White, [White Power holder]. 05. Slither-Thing, The. [???] (14) [Revealed]. 06. "Ugly", Destructionist MT, [Observer]. (14) 06. Rider, Creationist MT: TM, [Observer]. (14) 06. Kruegar, Ultra-Entity, [Observer]. (14) 07. Titan, (9) Hank Dodds, (10) Stripped of his power. 07. General Stark. (11) Deceased. 07. Lt. Dan Jenners (10) Converted to the Empire. (12) Captain. 07. Mr. Miller, Iowa's Governor, [Iowa Administration]. 07. Don Corello, Mafia, [Illinois Administration]. 08. Liz Tyler, [Imperial Science Minister]. 08. Mariko Michaelson, [Chemist]. 09. Karen Fischer, Osprey, [Power Team]. 09. Charity Jones, [Power Team]. 09. Zechiel (Zeke) Peters, Teke, [Power Team]. 09. Ali "Luke" Al-Raji, Sapphire, [Power Team]. 09. Joanne Barrett, Lady Web, [Power Team]. 09. Tim Melaui, Warp, [Power Team]. 09. Paris Simmons, Seeker, [Power Team]. 10. Alyssa, (4) Orphan, (10) Abused by Titan, (14) Slither-Thing bait, [ex-Imperial Page]. 11. Sergeant Brad Donovan, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Corporal Steven Leigh, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Corporal Benny "Mac" MacFee, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Private Doug Renes, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Private Kyle Simms, [Stark's Rat Platoon]. 11. Tom King, [Town Councilman]. 11. Tanya King, [Tom King's daughter]. 11. Carol King, [Tom King's niece]. 12. Gary Miller, [Captain; Knights of the Open Road Society]. 12. Candy Kane, [Member; K.O.R.S.]. 12. Kieth Thomas, [Sheriff; Eagle, CO]. 12. Sondra Eriks, Healer, (14) [Minister of Health, & Lady Healer]. 13. Janelle Masters, [Winged Flyer]. 13. Josh Masters, [Telekinetic Flyer]. 13. Benjamin, [Charismatic Power]. 13. Reverend Browne, [Fundamentalist Christian]. 13. Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, Raphael, Israfel, Azrael, Sariel. 14. Tari Bates, Telepath, [Minister of Psionics]. 14. Henry Black II, newborn son of Robert and Maggie. 15. Rodger ?, the Green Eyed Wanderer, [Gaea cursed]. 15. Sasha, Rodger's daughter [And pregnant by him]. 16. Elias Dusten, [The last Battery]. 16. Brock and Mark Medford. 16. Justen St. Ives, and his gardener, Marge. 16. Joshua Cross and Hyacinth Storm, descendants of Elias. * 17. Phillip Carmichael, [Mental Patient/Mind Controller]. * 17. Rex Harrison Timmons, [Mental Patient/Healer]. * 17. Christina Spenser, [Daughter of a Boston Senator]. (2) What can the Power Team members do? [] = Part-time member. Blur: A standard super speedster, with a superhero complex. Titan: Strong & nearly invulnerable; a "brick". Dis-empowered. Osprey: "Winged" flight & semi-invulnerable; slight telekinesis. Charity: Receptive and projective empathy; a Sensitive. Teke: Telekinetic; levitates, lifts, shields, and shoves. Sapphire: Controlled powered flight, & blue energy blasts. Lady Web: Truth-teller & mind-linker; Not fully telepathic (yet). Warp: Line-of-sight combat teleporter teen with packet bombs. ;&> Seeker: Long range, detailed clairvoyance; slightly precognitive. [Wolf: Half-animal morph; strength, speed, & natural weapons.] (3) What are the Towers? They are colored Towers of the Black Palace that represent the Headquarters of different branches of the Imperial Government. Whether they stand for the Administration, a Ministry, or Institute, or both, the branches will use the colored Towers as their symbol throughout the Empire. [A Ministry is dedicated to the Control and Direction of a thing, while an Institute is dedicated the Study and Propagation of a thing.] Vol: Ep: Tower: Function, Supervisor, [Notes]. -------------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 07 Black Administration Robert Black [Government]. 08 Copper Science Ministry Liz Tyler [Science Research]. 14 Silver Mental Health Tari Bates [Psionic Institute] 14 Gold Ministry of Health Sondra Eriks [Healer Institute] 16 Blue Ministry of Magic Joshua Cross [Magic Institute]. [19 White Ministry of Justice Rebecca. -Forthcoming] (4) What is Imperial Law? As post-Colonial American Law was based on British Common Law, the Legal Code of the Empire is based on 'American Common Law'. This is the foundation that Robert is using to govern his Empire. He changes aspects of this Code as the situation seems to warrant, and is having his decisions recorded for future reflection and application. Punishments are generally; overseen public service, or public works (a chain gang). Severe punishments may merit death, immediately delivered by the Justice at the end of the Accused's appeals. Sometimes a more creative punishment will be crafted to fit the crime. (5) What are some of the Codes? Vol: Ep: Law Code: Status, [Notes]. (LEO=Law Enforcement Officer) ---------------------------------------------------------------------- USAN 4. Indenturement: Legal, [Used to pay public or private Debts]. 6. Drug use and sale: Legal, [Now, it's regular commerce]. 6. Sex-acts, Consensual, for pay: Legal [Regular commerce]. 6. Sex-acts, Consensual, *Any*: Legal. 6. Child Abuse, (under 12): Illegal, [Harshly punished]. 10. Sex-acts, Non-consensual: Illegal, [Harsh punishments]. 12. Abuse of Power by Military/LEOs: Illegal, [Harshly punished]. 13. Murder: Illegal, punishable. 13. Property Damage: Illegal, punishable. 13. Preliminary Court System established 14. Recognition of 'Sensitivity' as a mental condition. 17. Abuse of Power by Medical/Caregivers: Illegal, punishable. ? (6) What is the Imperial Justice system (in a nutshell)? Courts are presided over by a Justice. Major court officials are an Accuser, functioning as Prosecutor, and an Advocate, functioning as the Defense. Also a Truth-teller's or telepath's services are recommended but the right of a witness not to testify under that service has been affirmed. However, such unconfirmed testimony bears less 'weight' than testimony that is truth-verified by Psionic or other means. "Instant" appeals (taking no more than a few days) of guilty verdicts are allowed, if NEW information not previously considered is available, but a frivolous appeal will result in the severity of the sentence being increased by each step of Appeal. Robert is the last step of the Appellate process. He has the final word. "Not a Court of Law, nor a Court of Fact, this is a Court of Truth." -- Robert Black. (7) What's the deal with these Observers? They are the Deus Ex Machina that explains why the Darkside's history has diverged so radically from our own. They also provide a larger point of view of the World. One from "outside of the box", if you will. They provide a way to comment on the story from out of its context. V. About the Observers. (1) What is the Rod? It is a Meta-laced Destructionist artifact-weapon designed to corrupt a mortal to darkness, and to take his world with him. (2) Huh? A what-laced whosit? Meta. A term borrowed from Wizards of the Coast's RPG Supplement; "The Primal Order". Used in this case to indicate a level of power that is above that of the Godly 'Primal' energy. Above Meta is Ultra. Magic/Psionics/Super Powers = Mortal level powers. Primal = Godly. Mortal powers cannot affect them. Meta = Master Types. Primals cannot affect them. Ultra = Creators/Destructors. Meta powers cannot affect them. (3) And it was sent by whom? The Destructionist branch of the Master Types. Above the Gods and beneath those that Create and Destroys all are the class of beings that are in-between. Those who report to the Creative side of Ultra are the Creationists. They are dedicated to the ideals of Life, Order, and Anti-Entropy, but their execution is sometimes less than perfect. Those opposed to them are the Destructionists; bent on causing Death, Chaos and Entropy, and with a similar caveat as to their performance. (4) So what are Master Types? Another borrowed term, this time from Michael Moorcock. In his works it refers to a single godlike being who "represents" a kind of animal.In the mythology of the stories, every kind of animal, even humans, has a whole race of meta-powered beings to represent them. The leader of each kind is called the Type Master, who is the chief of their Type and Clan. (5) Who are the Observers? ["Ugly", Rider, & Kruegar] "Ugly": Don't quite know yet. A non-humanoid Destructionist Master Type, but not the Type Master of his kind. Rider: The Hom (Humanoid) Type Master. Kruegar: A lesser Ultra being in service to the Ultimate Powers. (6) What is Ultra Energy? The kind of energy possessed by the Ultimate Powers. They are the Multiversal Creator, known as Lord Shadow, and 'Its' opposite and other face, Lord Kaos. Each Universal dimension in the Multiverse has a piece of this energy as its Spark. Sometimes this is embodied as a Universal Creator, who is the model for the chief God of every mythos. Sometimes it is merely an abstract 'Force'. Ultra power always assumes its opposite half. The Destructor's goal is to bring the untimely end of everything, and serves the whole by destroying what is unneeded. The Creative force brings new life and energy to what has been recycled. In a young Multiverse, the Creative force is the predominant, but inevitably, the Multiverse will wear down, succumb to Entropy, and Chaos will reign until the cycle begins anew. (7) What is the Multiverse? Go watch some Sliders. Every bit of Fiction, every single possibility is a distinct Dimensional Universe. The Multiverse is the sum of all the Universes. They are arranged by the Master Types by which power is predominant in them, whether the positive side or the negative kind. "Midpoint" is the theoretical middle point on this scale. It's where the balance shifts from one to the other. The clan with more of the scale on their side of Midpoint is the ascendant power. The Scale has Moebius properties as well. Creation Destruction |<-"Inside"|/////////////////////.\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\|"Outside"->| ^ Midpoint (8) Why was the Rod placed on the Darkside? The Rod was an attempt to shift the dimension to the negative side of the scale, thereby shifting the Midpoint without a costly (and painful) battle. It was a tactical point in a cosmic turf war. (9) What about Rebecca? She was empowered by Creationists in order to try to counteract the influence of the Rod. A tactical counterpoint; far more subtle than the first. (10) What is The Experiment? The dimension has been declared "out-of-bounds" to both sides. An observing body of Creationists and Destructionists chaired by Kruegar has been appointed to oversee the results. They have shielded the Universe with an impenetrable, isolating bubble, and will occasionally comment on its progress from a Council room in a smaller bubble attached to the Shield. (11) Why are the Observers off-limits? Because KTM plans on using them in regular fiction someday, and needs to control their usage. VI. Q & A section. (1) Author's questions for the reader. * What do you like or don't like about the stories? * What kind of characters or situations would you like to see? * What kind of sexual content are you looking for in the stories? * What other kinds of reactions have you had to the stories? * What do you see happening in the future of this world? (2) Questions from readers; answered. Will Robert ever become a Good-Guy? Kinda depends on your definition of "Good-Guy" now, doesn't it? From Robert's point of view, he *is* a good guy. Everything he does is because he believes it's the best choice to further what he perceives to be important and beneficial. He doesn't believe in any standard of morality other than his own conscience. Will Robert and Rebecca ever get together? Now, that would be telling. :) Is Rebecca Robert's foil, or is it the other way around? That has yet to be decided. Are full edit/rewrites planned after each Volume's completion? Yes. It's a first release, that's already been through several, but a major, comprehensive edit is planned for the future.

Authors/World_of_the_Darkside/darkfaq.txt

Nikto30

El Gran Dalmuti

- ¡Quien pierda de las dos se la chupa al novio de la otra! - A pesar de lo excitados que estábamos los cuatro, la apuesta de Emmanuel nos pilló por sorpresa. - ¡Se acepta! – gritó Sara. Me giré hacia ella atónito por lo que acababa de oír. Sara, mi pareja, miraba a Emmanuel con los ojos muy abiertos. Su pecho subía y bajaba en rápidos intervalos. ¡Estaba muy excitada! No sabía muy bien cómo tomarme la apuesta de Emmanuel y mucho menos la respuesta de Sara, y comenzaba a notar una comezón en la boca del estómago que o bien eran celos o el alcohol subiendo por mi esófago. Entonces noté los ojos de Ana fijos en mí. Me giré hacia ella y, efectivamente, sus ojazos verdes me atravesaban. Tenía la boca ligeramente abierta y el alcohol había sonrojado sus mejillas de una manera muy erótica. Noté cómo mi polla se quedaba nuevamente sin espacio dentro de mis calzoncillos. - Vale, pero dejando las cosas claras. – Ana se puso en pie delante nuestro y nos miró con la mano extendida y el dedo índice levantado. Se movía nerviosa de un lado a otro de la pequeña mesita del cuarto de estar sobre la cual estaban esparcidas las cartas con las que habíamos comenzado a jugar hace horas y nuestros 4 vasos sobre 4 posavasos de marcas de cerveza. – ¿Qué quiere decir "chuparla"? ¿Hasta dónde? – Mi polla estaba tan dura que el dolor se estaba haciendo insoportable y más después de darme cuenta de las miradas que Ana le echaba al bulto de mi entrepierna.A través de la fibra de la camiseta se veían claramente sus pezones bajo unos pectorales impresionantes. En la barriga las arrugas del tejido se mezclaban con las marcas de sus abdominales. - Ningún problema. – Dijo Emmanuel mientras se remangaba la camiseta por el torso mostrando unos abdominales que parecían cincelados en piedra. Sara tenía los ojos fijos en su vientre y la boca ligeramente abierta. Incluso creí ver un pequeño rubor en sus mejillas. Emmanuel acabó de quitarse la camiseta por encima de la cabeza. Sus pectorales eran impresionantes. La negra piel brillaba ligeramente por la transpiración y sus pezones sobresalían medio centímetro, bajo el músculo y apuntando hacia abajo y adelante. - Ahora la prueba. – continuó Sara. – Debes mover cada pectoral independientemente, primero uno, luego el otro, y así. – Los tres teníamos los ojos fijos en los pechos de Emmanuel. Con el rabillo del ojo creí ver que Ana sonreía viendo nuestra reacción. Seguramente ella había visto muchas veces a Emmanuel fardar de músculos. - ¡Eso es muy fácil! – dijo Emmanuel sonriendo, e inmediatamente se puso a mover sus pectorales al ritmo de la música de fondo. Lo cierto es que era asombroso ver como movía esas masas de músculo. Emmanuel sonreía viendo el efecto que causaba su "baile" en Sara y no se cortó un pelo: - ¿Quieres tocarlos? – Yo hubiera preferido dejarlo en un espectáculo visual pero Sara rápidamente respondió con un "¿Puedo?". – ¡Claro! - respondió Emmanuel y enseguida Sara acercó la mano derecha y la puso bajo su pectoral derecho, como si lo sostuviera en la mano. Emmanuel continuaba moviendo los pechos y Sara no podía parar de reír, con una risa excitada, mientras notaba la masa de músculo en su mano y el pezón entre sus dedos. Cuando acabó el espectáculo y Emmanuel volvió a ponerse la camiseta las dos chicas se pusieron a aplaudir y gritar bravos. Yo aplaudía tímidamente, envidioso de la musculatura de Emmanuel y de su control, y también un poco picado por el desparpajo de Sara. La siguiente partida comenzó y enseguida se vio que Ana aprendía rápido. Esta vez fueron ella y Sara las que intercambiaron posiciones mientras Emmanuel volvía a perder. Ahora le tocaba a Ana ponerle una prueba a su novio. Sara se levantó para intercambiar su sitio con Ana y se sentó a mi lado sin ni tan siquiera mirarme, mirando intermitentemente a Ana y a Emmanuel. - Veamos – dijo Ana con la mano en la barbilla interpretando a "El pensador" de Rodin. Miró a Sara sonriendo antes de mirarme a mí. No puedo estar seguro pero creí distinguir un brillo pícaro en sus ojos. – Creo que Emmanuel aún no nos ha enseñado todo de lo que es capaz. – dijo mirando ahora a su novio. – Tienes que caminar de un lado a otro del salón haciendo el pino. En seguida Emmanuel se levantó y ante la mirada atónita de Sara y la mía puso las manos abiertas sobre la moqueta y, poco a poco, fue elevando las piernas sobre la cabeza. La demostración de fuerza fue portentosa. Los músculos de sus brazos se marcaban y las venas sobresalían de la piel. Cuando estuvo completamente vertical se giró hacia nosotros sonriendo y Sara y Ana se pusieron a aplaudir. Después comenzó a "andar" con las manos hacia la puerta y una vez hubo llegado dio media vuelta y volvió hacia nosotros. El movimiento hizo que la camiseta se le subiera un poco mostrando parte de sus perfectos abdominales. Pero estoy seguro que en lo que todos nos fijamos era en el bulto que pendulaba sobre su vientre bajo los pantalones de lino con cada paso que daba. Por fin, cuando estuvo ante nosotros flexionó ligeramente los brazos y con un "hop!" dio un salto y un rebote y se puso en pie alzando los brazos como hacen los gimnastas. Nuevamente las chicas explotaron en bravos y hurras mientras aplaudían a rabiar. En ese momento yo también rabiaba, pero de manera diferente. El juego estaba empezando a cargarme un poco. Pero parecía que los tres se lo estaban pasando teta y no era buena idea en ese momento una retirada. Así que tomé la decisión de no dejar que Emmanuel volviese a perder para evitar más demostraciones de las suyas. En la siguiente partida comencé a pasar cuando tenía cartas y a cometer errores sin que se notaran demasiado. Al final Ana y Sara volvieron a quedar primera y segunda respectivamente. Yo tenía aún seis cartas en la mano y Emmanuel solo 2. Me tocaba salir y lo hice con la carta más alta para darle posibilidades de deshacerse de una, yo pasé y Emmanuel acabó sus cartas. Rápidamente barajé las cartas con las de la mesa para que no vieran el juego que tenía, mientras intentaba poner cara de perdedor. - Oooh! – dijo Ana – Ahora Jaime tendrá que pasar una prueba. – Yo medio sonreía. Mi plan había salido bien. Miré a Sara y parecía estar un poco decepcionada. - ¿Qué le podríamos hacer hacer? – Ana me miraba con la cara sonrosada y una sonrisa provocativa. En ese momento me invadió una sensación de vergüenza. No había calculado bien: si Ana me hacía hacer algo parecido a lo de Emmanuel en la comparativa yo quedaría fatal. Nunca había sido un deportista aunque tampoco estaba gordo (excepto por una pequeña barriguita cervecera que había criado en los últimos meses), pero desde luego no sería capaz de hacer cabriolas ni mover músculos a placer como hacía Emmanuel. – Veamos, quítate la camisa. Me quité la camisa negra metiendo barriga. Me miré el pecho pensando que tampoco estaba tan mal. Estaba moreno de playa y algo peludo. Metiendo estómago la barriga prácticamente desaparecía, pero en comparación con los de Emmanuel mis pectorales no se marcaban en absoluto. – ¡Ya veo! – dijo Ana – Ahora vuelvo – y de un salto desapareció por el pasillo. - Perdona que te lo diga, pero ni punto de comparación. – dijo Sara mirándome. Yo le eché una mirada furibunda y Sara se tapó la boca con la mano para que no viera como se reía (de mí). Mi ego no estaba precisamente por los aires. Entonces volvió Ana con un kit de depilación en las manos. – ¡Ya estoy aquí! – Yo abrí los ojos espantado mientras Sara y Emmanuel reían ahora ya sin esconderse. - ¡Un momento, un momento! – yo no sabía que decir. Me parecía haber vuelto atrás en el tiempo a la época del instituto, cuando chicos y chicas nos provocábamos con juegos pseudoeróticos y pequeñas putadas. - Nada de momentos. Yo soy la Gran Dalmuti y mando que te dejes depilar el pecho. Los pelos no están de moda. – dijo Ana. Sara se puso del lado de Ana y mientras las dos preparaban la cera Emmanuel se compadecía de mí entre risas sin que yo pudiese hacer nada. Cuando la cera estuvo caliente Ana cogió una espátula y empezó a extenderla sobre mi pecho. Los pelos se concentraban entre mis dos invisibles pectorales por lo que no había mucha superficie que depilar. Cuando la cera estuvo fría Ana se frotó las manos y mirándome mientras sonreía dijo - ¿Preparado?. - ¡Qué remedio! – dije. Y Ana tiró con fuerza de la pasta. Dolió. Bastante. Mientras los tres reían a carcajadas yo me soplaba el pecho lampiño y abanicaba con las manos intentando aliviar el dolor. – ¡Eh! Mucho mejor. – dijo Ana, y me acarició el pecho. Al mirarla me encontré con sus ojos verdes. Mientras Sara y Emmanuel reían a sus espaldas ella paseó provocativamente la lengua por su labio inferior. Yo me quedé de piedra y Ana me sonrió. – Prueba superada… - dijo y volvió a su sillón de Gran Dalmuti. Yo me volví a poner la camisa mientras Sara me miraba con las cejas levantadas y el dedo pulgar hacia arriba como aprobando el nuevo look de mis pectorales… Una nueva partida. Esta vez todos me echaron las culpas por lo mal que había repartido. Nadie parecía tener buenas cartas y en medio del desbarajuste Emmanuel acabó sus cartas el primero. Yo, un poco menos cohibido, me sumé a las felicitaciones de las dos chicas al nuevo Gran Dalmuti. Yo casi acabo segundo pero en el último momento Sara se me adelantó y Ana se quedó con 7 cartas en la mano a pesar de haber comenzado como Gran Dalmuti, a veces también pasa. - ¡La pequeña Anita! – dijo Emmanuel. - Vaya, vaya… - Ana miraba a su novio con la ceja arqueada y el apuntándolo con el dedo índice de manera amenazadora. Pero Emmanuel sonreía. – Creo que te haré hacer lo mismo que Sara me ha hecho hacer a mí… Los tres nos quedamos de piedra… La prueba que Emmanuel ponía a su novia era que moviera los pectorales delante nuestro… Lo cierto es que, en mi opinión, la velada había dado un giro muy interesante, no sé qué pensaría Sara. - ¡Eso no se vale! – se quejó Ana. - ¡Eh! Las normas son las normas – dijo Emmanuel y yo asentí bajo la mirada reprobadora de Sara, a la cual respondí a su vez con una mirada de inocencia. – Venga, creo que Jaime tiene ganas de ver de qué eres capaz… Sara y yo miramos con la boca abierta a Emmanuel. Su comentario había sido muy provocativo, pero absolutamente cierto. Estaba mirando a Ana como si la estuviera retándola y Ana le devolvía la mirada. - No se si deber… - empezó Sara, pero antes de que pudiera acabar la frase Ana se puso en pie y dijo: - De acuerdo, pero ya veréis a partir de ahora… - nos amenazó medio sonriendo. De su cara había desaparecido el enojo y afloraba una mueca de picardía. Parecía una niña traviesa. Yo aún no me lo podía creer, pero tan solo imaginarme lo que parecía que pasaría a continuación el corazón se me aceleró y la sangre comenzó a golpear de nuevo mi entrepierna. Poco a poco, ante la mirada de los tres, Ana comenzó a subirse la camiseta. Cuando tuvo la tela enrollada bajo los pechos y nos enseñaba su vientre plano hizo una pausa y, mirándome, dijo: - ¿Preparados? – y sin que nadie acertara a responder levantó la camiseta por encima de los pechos y la pasó por encima de la cabeza, quedándose con ella en la mano derecha. ¿He dicho que no llevaba sujetador? Nos quedamos los cuatro callados mirando las tetas de Ana. Eran… perfectas. Destacaban provocativamente en el pequeño y fibroso cuerpo de Ana. Se mantenían erguidas, altaneras.Los pezones, excitados, sobresalían provocativos casi un centímetro del centro de unas aureolas morenas, ligeramente en forma de cono. Los pechos describían una curva suave desde el costado hasta el centro de su torso, donde apenas los separaban unos milímetros. Ese canal debía ser el paraíso. Entonces, dejando la camiseta en el suelo, se cogió las manos por delante a la altura del pubis y comenzó a mover cada pecho por separado. Uno a uno daban un pequeño salto y caían rebotando. Casi se podía intuir la firmeza de sus pechos por el temblor del rebote. Los pezones se movían arriba y abajo y los pechos se rozaban ligeramente. Los tres estábamos callados, hipnotizados por los pechos de Ana. Mi polla estaba a punto de reventar mis calzoncillos e intenté cambiar de posición sin que se notara para darle un poco de respiro. Después de mover cada pecho unas cuantas veces se rió e inclinándose hacia delante se apretó los pechos el uno contra el otro con los brazos. En ese momento pensé que me corría. Rápidamente se volvió a poner la camiseta y se sentó riendo traviesa en el suelo como Gran Pordiosera. Emmanuel aplaudió el espectáculo y enseguida me uní yo, en cuanto la presión en mi entrepierna me permitió pensar que aguantaría. Sara aplaudió tímidamente, aún hipnotizada, mirando a Ana. Me fijé que mi novia tenía las piernas apretadas. Pensé, sorprendido, que seguramente Ana había conseguido excitar a sus tres espectadores de excepción. Mientras Ana recogía las cartas y nos echaba miradas provocativas, intentamos reponernos lo suficiente para empezar una nueva partida. En el ambiente se respiraban feromonas y los cuatro estábamos muy excitados. No podíamos esperar a acabar la nueva partida y ver qué prueba podría el Gran Dalmuti al perdedor. Emmanuel inició fuerte la partida como Gran Dalmuti y jugó tres manos sin que nadie pudiera echar carta. Cuando yo conseguí quitarle la iniciativa se había deshecho de todas menos de una carta. Era mi turno. Conseguí deshacerme de 6 cartas antes de que Emmanuel pudiera echar la última y ganar. Él continuaría siendo el Gran Dalmuti. Quedaba por saber quién sería el Gran Pordiosero. Casi no hablábamos, nos oíamos respirar los unos a los otros, excitados. Yo había tomado ventaja suficiente y conseguí acabar segundo. Me moría de ganas por que Ana perdiese y su novio le pusiese una nueva prueba. Era una situación muy provocativa. Tan solo quedaban Sara con 7 cartas y Ana con 6. Entonces Emmanuel dijo: - ¡Un momento! Antes de que se sepa quién perderá pongo la prueba. – Los tres nos quedamos callados expectantes, Sara con una carta a punto de echar sobre la mesa. - ¡Quien pierda de las dos se la chupa al novio de la otra! – El corazón me saltó en el pecho. No daba crédito a lo que acababa de oír. Definitivamente esto había saltado de los típicos juegos de adolescentes y se parecía más a una película porno. - ¡Se acepta! – gritó Sara. Me giré hacia ella estupefacto por lo que acababa de oír. Sara, mi pareja, miraba a Emmanuel con los ojos muy abiertos, pero no a la cara precisamente. Su pecho subía y bajaba en rápidos intervalos. ¡Estaba muy excitada! No sabía muy bien cómo tomarme la apuesta de Emmanuel y mucho menos la respuesta de Sara y comenzaba a notar una comezón en la boca del estómago que o bien eran celos o el alcohol subiendo por mi esófago. Entonces noté los ojos de Ana fijos en mí. Me giré hacia ella y efectivamente, sus ojazos verdes me atravesaban. Tenía la boca levemente abierta y el alcohol había sonrojado sus mejillas de una manera muy erótica. Noté como mi polla se quedaba nuevamente sin espacio dentro de mis calzoncillos. - Vale, pero dejando las cosas claras. – Ana se puso en pie delante nuestro y nos miró con la mano extendida y el dedo índice levantado. – ¿Qué quiere decir "chuparla"? ¿Hasta dónde? – Mi polla estaba tan dura que el dolor se estaba haciendo insoportable y más después de darme cuenta de las miradas que Ana le echaba al bulto de mi entrepierna cada vez que cambiaba de dirección mientras paseaba nerviosa de un lado a otro de la mesita. Miré a Sara que seguía con los ojos clavados en el Emmanuel. Al girarme hacia él pude ver claramente cuál era el interés de Sara en esos momentos. Una protuberancia alargada corría a lo largo de la pierna de Emmanuel bajo el pantalón blanco de lino. Estaba tumbado en el sillón, con los brazos detrás de la cabeza y las piernas semiabiertas. En esa postura su polla debía estar en relax, de lo contrario no podría esconder la tienda de campaña. ¡Dios mío! El bulto debía tener casi un palmo de largo y el tío estaba en reposo. - Bueno… - Me había quedado sin saliva, pero algo tenía que hacer. La cosa pintaba muy mal. – antes hay que ver si todos estamos de acuerdo, ¿no? – Miré a Sara que a su vez había dejado de mirar a Emmanuel y me lanzaba una miranda furibunda, entre la ira y el reproche. - El juego es el juego, ¿no? – dijo Sara – Además, ¡no te he escuchado quejarte cuando Ana nos ha enseñado las tetas! – Sara estaba realmente excitada y no permitiría que yo le aguase la fiesta. Evidentemente se moría de ganas de verle el instrumento a Emmanuel. Y por lo que parece Emmanuel tenía mucho que mostrar. Su argumento era demoledor y mi cerebro estaba demasiado tocado por el alcohol como para pensar en una salida. - Entonces de acuerdo, ¿no? – dijo Ana. – Hay que definir qué quiere decir chuparla. - Cariño – dijo Emmanuel dirigiéndose a su novia – Tú ya sabes que quiero decir yo cuando digo "chuparla". Quiero decir entera y hasta el final. – Por un momento me imaginé a Ana con un trozo de carne negra en la boca y mi pene volvió a hacerse notar. Yo ya no sabía cómo ponerme y no me atrevía a recolocarme la polla. - ¡¿Entera?! – esta vez fue Sara quien gritó. - Entera y hasta el final – repitió Emmanuel. La cara de Sara mostraba un leve asomo de miedo y no me extrañó. Tengo que decir que nunca he tenido complejos por el tamaño de mi pene. No era especialmente largo, un poco más de 15 centímetros (6 pulgadas) en su máximo apogeo, pero era bastante gordo, unos 5 centímetros de diámetro (2 pulgadas), más que la mayoría de los que había visto en las películas porno. Aunque era difícil adivinar el diámetro de la polla de Emmanuel, en longitud me superaba claramente y por lo que parecía ni siquiera estaba completamente erecta. A Sara le gustaba mucho jugar con mi polla y hacerme mamadas con las que me dejaba exhausto, pero nunca había conseguido metérsela toda en la boca, apenas había llegado un poco más allá de la mitad. Decía que le daban arcadas cuando el glande tocaba la campanilla y no podía continuar. A pesar de ello sabía utilizar la lengua de una manera prodigiosa y si se empeñaba me era imposible aguantar más de 2 o 3 minutos antes de correrme volcánicamente sobre mi barriga. Porque a Sara tampoco le hacía demasiada gracia tragarse mi esperma y tan solo una vez lo había probado mezclado con helado de chocolate. Por unos instantes la cara de Sara reflejó el miedo a enfrentarse a todo el instrumento de Emmanuel. - ¿Qué quieres decir con "hasta el final"? – preguntó tímidamente Sara. Emmanuel sonrió mirándola directamente a los ojos – "Hasta el final" quiere decir hasta que Jaime o yo nos corramos. Evidentemente sin sacarla. - Yo estaba casi paralizado pero pude ver como Sara tragaba saliva y miraba a Ana. Y Ana me miraba a mí, o más exactamente al bulto de mi entrepierna, ahora de manera descarada. Sara pudo ver lo mismo que yo. La situación era de sentimientos contradictorios. Por un lado, si ganaba Sara Ana me comería la polla y se tragaría mi semen, y esto era algo con lo que todos en la oficina habíamos fantaseado alguna vez. Pero si Sara perdía tendría que ver como mi novia le hacía una mamada a un negro de metro noventa con una polla descomunal y se tendría que tragar su esperma. Y a pesar que racionalmente las dos situaciones distaban mucho de ser iguales descubrí que me era difícil saber cuál de las dos me excitaba más y que ganara quien ganara yo no podría aguantar mucho más sin correrme, y prometía ser la corrida de mi vida. - De acuerdo – Ana y Sara prácticamente hablaron a la vez. Ambas a media voz. Emmanuel y yo nos miramos. Él mantenía su sonrisa. Creo que, como a mí, las dos opciones le parecían igual de bien. - Muy bien, pues si estamos todos de acuerdo… – dijo Emmanuel mirándome, yo miré a Sara y asentí despacio mientras creía percibir un ligero temblor en los brazos de mi novia – …podéis continuar. – Acabó Emmanuel dirigiéndose a las chicas. Era el turno de Sara que tenía una carta más que Ana y salió con un 12. Quizá no tuviera más doces pero no pude evitar pensar que era una salida muy cómoda para que Ana respondiese. Ana tiró un 10 y Sara un 9 a lo que Ana dijo que no podía responder mientras me miraba. Tanto Emmanuel como yo nos dimos cuenta que ninguna de las dos quería ganar. Lo que en mi mente calenturienta se traducía en que las dos se morían de ganas de chuparnos las pollas. De nuevo Sara empezó con otro 12 quedándose con 4 cartas y dejando claras sus intenciones. Ana respondió con un 9 y Sara se plantó. Ahora las dos tenían 4 cartas y le tocaba a Ana. - Venga chicas… no se vale hacer trampas… - rió Emmanuel y Sara se ruborizó escandalosamente. Las dos estaban jugando a perder. Ninguna quería deshacerse de más cartas. Ana tiró un 12, Sara un 11 y Ana un 9. Sara se plantó. Ahora Ana tenía una carta menos y además empezaba. Todo pintaba que Sara perdería. Un escalofrío recorrió mi columna mientras me imaginaba a mi novia con la polla de Emmanuel en la boca. Ana volvió a tirar un 12 y Sara un 11. Ana se quedó parada con una carta en la mano sin jugar. - Anita… ¿qué tienes? – preguntó Emmanuel. Pero Ana no respondió. Miró a Sara y poco a poco dejó caer la carta: un 9. Sara había perdido. Un calor me subió por el pecho a la cabeza. Sara había perdido. Sara le tenía que chupar la polla a Emmanuel. Toda y hasta el final. Mi pene estaba a punto de explotar.Ana se levantó y desapareció por el pasillo mientras Sara miraba a Emmanuel como embobada. Éste a su vez sonreía, tumbado en el sillón, como disfrutando de lo que estaba por venir. Yo no tenía ni idea de qué hacer así que me levanté y fui hacia la cocina a buscar un poco de agua, tenía la garganta seca y mi entrepierna necesitaba un poco de movimiento o se haría un nudo. Cuando entré en la cocina me topé con Ana, tenía una mano en una botella de agua que acababa de sacar de la nevera y la otra entre sus piernas, bajo la tela del pantalón. ¡Se estaba tocando! Enseguida me descubrió pero no retiró la mano de entre las piernas. Mientras me miraba yo veía cómo la mano se movía bajo la tela del pantalón. Al cabo de unos segundos en los que yo no moví ni un dedo sacó la mano, cogió la botella y se dirigió hacia mí. Se detuvo a mi lado, junto a la puerta de la cocina y me cogió con fuerza el paquete por debajo de los huevos mientras me susurraba al oído – Será mejor que no nos perdamos el espectáculo. Promete. – Y salió de la cocina. Yo me quedé aún un minuto más en la cocina, no tanto por evitar sospechas si salíamos los dos juntos (¡que importaban las sospechas: mi novia le iba a comer el rabo a su novio!) si no por recuperar el aliento y bajar un poco la hinchazón. Cuando recuperé lo primero (lo segundo era imposible) salí de la cocina y fui al comedor. Sara continuaba en el sofá, junto a ella se había sentado Ana que me miró a la cara y después al paquete. Emmanuel se había levantado y estaba enfrente de las chicas con las manos en los bolsillos. Yo me senté en la butaca y alargué la mano hacia la botella de agua que había traído Ana. Cuando me giré hacia Emmanuel tenía su entrepierna a la altura de los ojos, a menos de un metro. Bajo el pantalón pulsaba su instrumento. - Antes de nada – comenzó Emmanuel – quiero que quede claro que todo esto lo hacemos voluntariamente, y aunque sea fruto de una apuesta, entiendo que os podáis negar. – Me estaba mirando directamente a mí, su sonrisa había desaparecido. Yo le devolví la mirada y me giré hacia Sara esperando percibir alguna señal. Estaba paralizada, con los ojos abiertos de par en par. El pecho le subía y bajaba en cortos intervalos. A su lado Ana también la miraba. Le puso la mano en el hombro para llamar su atención. El contacto de la mano de Ana provocó que Sara diese un pequeño respingo. Miró a Ana, después a mí y, por fin, dirigiéndose a Emmanuel, asintió con la cabeza. Yo también me giré hacia él y dije "ella decide". Mi comentario me hizo sentir como un cobarde. - De acuerdo entonces. – Emmanuel recuperó la sonrisa. Sacó las manos de los bolsillos y agarrando la camiseta por los costados se la sacó por encima de la cabeza volviéndonos a mostrar sus perfectos abdominales y sus espectaculares pectorales. Después, dejando la camiseta sobre la mesa, puso las manos en la cintura con los pulgares bajo la tela de los pantalones, preparado por bajárselos. Hizo una pausa mirándonos. Yo tragué saliva, con la mirada fija en su entrepierna, donde en breves instantes aparecería por fin la polla de Emmanuel, libre ya de la tela del pantalón. – ¿Preparados? – No creo que nadie fuera capaz de responder ni sí ni no y Emmanuel, tomando nuestro silencio por un sí, comenzó a tirar lentamente de la tela hacia abajo.Suavemente pero sin parar, consiguió introducir algún centímetro más antes de volver a sacarla. Ana y yo podíamos ver claramente cómo la parte húmeda de saliva era aproximadamente un tercio de la longitud del miembro de Emmanuel. - Ana, trae un poco de crema de coco, por favor. – Dijo Emmanuel. Ana se levantó y, pasando junto a ellos, desapareció por el pasillo. Sara estaba paralizada, con la boca aún abierta y los ojos fijos en el miembro negro de Emmanuel, respiraba pesadamente, intentando recuperar el aliento. Él la miraba sonriendo, pero con la frente ligeramente perlada de sudor. Desde mi posición no podía sino maravillarme de la constitución de ese dios de ébano. De perfil, sus pectorales sobresalían sobre su vientre, donde sus abdominales se marcaban como dunas en el desierto. A los costados, los músculos oblicuos se marcaban sobre el lateral de los glúteos y acababan en el cuello de su poderosa verga. En los muslos, los cuádriceps marcaban sus cabezas claramente sobre su rodilla, y los gemelos parecían permanentemente en tensión. En su cuello se iniciaba un trapecio poderoso que, hacia los lados, se unía a unos brazos fibrosos, con un deltoides prominente y unos bíceps y tríceps largos y tersos. La espalda describía una poderosa curva alrededor de los omoplatos y caía en vertical hasta su culo. Era impresionante la perfecta semicircunferencia que describían sus glúteos desde la rabadilla a la parte posterior de los muslos. Después de repasar sin pudor su anatomía, mis ojos se detuvieron en su entrepierna, donde desde mi perspectiva apenas se podían distinguir, entre la negrura, dos grandes testículos colgando varios centímetros por debajo de la polla. En ese momento me hubiera levantado para comprobar de más cerca el tamaño de sus huevos, pero a pesar de que mis ojos no paraban de pasearse por su piel, mi cuerpo estaba completamente inmovilizado. Ana regresó con una barra de crema de coco en la mano y se arrodilló junto a Sara. Como si fuera indiferente a la impresionante polla de Emmanuel que se sostenía mágicamente en el aire, Ana hizo girar el tubo entre sus dedos y resiguió con la barra los labios de Sara varias veces, de manera que dejara una gruesa capa de crema de coco sobre ellos. Sara se dejó hacer, abriendo bien la boca para que Ana pudiera rellenar todas las grietas de sus labios. Cuando acabó, le puso la mano en el hombro y la miró a los ojos, animándola. Sin apenas darle tiempo a Sara a hacer una bocanada, Emmanuel volvió a acercar su polla, tapando su boca. La novia de Emmanuel se quedó detrás de ellos, sentada sobre los tobillos. Emmanuel utilizó ahora una técnica diferente para mejorar la lubricación de la saliva de Sara y la crema de coco. Empezó introduciendo su polla en la boca de Sara hasta un centímetro del máximo que había conseguido la vez anterior, y entonces la retiró un par de centímetros o tres antes de volver a empujarla dentro de su boca. Repitió el proceso varias veces, permitiendo que los labios de Sara cogieran elasticidad. Era como si le estuviera follando la boca suavemente. Cuando Emmanuel notó que los labios de Sara se estiraban más, comenzó a introducir un poco más de su negra polla en la boca de ella con cada embestida, a la vez que aumentaba el ritmo con que le follaba la boca, llevado por una excitación cada vez mayor. Estaba siendo un espectador de excepción de cómo el enorme novio negro de Ana introducía varios centímetros de su gigantesca polla en la boca de mi novia. El ritmo era de una acometida por segundo, y Sara comenzaba a dar signos de ahogo. Había vuelto a cerrar los ojos y tenía el ceño fruncido. Para mantener el equilibrio, había alzado las manos y se había cogido con fuerza a los muslos de Emmanuel, lo cual provocó que éste tuviera un punto más de apoyo para entrar con más fuerza. Hasta que Sara no pudo más y, palmeando insistentemente el muslo de Emmanuel, le obligó a liberar su boca antes de doblarse, mientras le sobrevenían las arcadas. A pesar de la cena y de la cantidad de alcohol que había tomado, Sara consiguió no vomitar, y poco a poco, con la ayuda de Ana que continuaba a su lado, se sobrepuso y volvió a erguir el cuerpo y plantar la cara ante la polla de Emmanuel, mientras respiraba con fuerza. Regueros de saliva caían de la comisura de sus labios hacia la pernera del pantalón. Miró sorprendida la polla de Emmanuel. La marca de saliva estaba aproximadamente en la mitad del tronco del enorme miembro del senegalés. Era más o menos la misma longitud que Sara era capaz de tragarse de mi polla, pero sin tantos problemas, y cuando lo conseguía, los pelos de mi pubis le hacían cosquillas en su nariz. ¡Ahora había sufrido para quedarse tan solo a la mitad del camino! "Toda y hasta el final". Las palabras de Emmanuel resonaron en mi cerebro. Era imposible que Sara pudiera tragarse toda esa carne. - Habrá que hacerlo de otra forma – dijo entonces Emmanuel, negando con la cabeza. No tenía ni idea de a qué otra forma se refería. Para mí, que la boca de Sara tenía una capacidad dada y no habría manera de que se metiera toda su polla. Ayudó a Sara a levantarse, y aún sin haber recuperado una respiración tranquila, la acompañó al sofá. - Túmbate boca arriba, por favor, con la cabeza hacia el sillón. – Sara se tumbó, con la cabeza recostada en el brazo del sofá y el cuerpo estirado sobre las tres piezas del mismo. Ana se acercó y se sentó en la esquina de la mesita frente a mí, mientras Emmanuel, paseando su verga, daba la vuelta por detrás de mí y se plantaba junto al sofá, con la polla sobre la cabeza de Sara. Creo que me di cuenta antes yo de lo que pretendía Emmanuel que Sara. Cuando Emmanuel pidió a Sara que trepase un poco, apoyando la nuca en el reposabrazos y dejando caer la cabeza por el lateral del sofá, ella también cayó en la cual era la "otra manera", justo cuando se vio con la cabeza entre las piernas de Emmanuel y su enorme polla a escasos centímetros sobre sus ojos. - Abre la boca, cariño – dijo Emmanuel suavemente, y Sara obedeció. Ahora tanto Ana como yo estábamos mucho más cerca, a medio metro escaso de la acción. Yo podía oler la piel del senegalés y ver perfectamente los pequeños capilares rojos en los ojos y las mejillas de mi novia. Sara abrió la boca todo lo que pudo, dejando al descubierto dos hileras de blancos dientes. Debido a la pausa, el miembro del senegalés se había relajado un poco y volvía a colgar obscenamente de su bajovientre. El sofá era un poco bajo, y Emmanuel se apoyó en el respaldo para flexionar ligeramente las piernas y acercar la punta de su polla a la boca de Sara de nuevo. Al acercar el glande a la boca, erró y golpeó con la punta la nariz de Sara, que dio un respingo, pero rápidamente situó el capullo dentro de la boca, esta vez apoyado contra el paladar de mi novia. Entonces Emmanuel comenzó de nuevo a introducir su polla en la boca de Sara, centímetro a centímetro, poco a poco. Yo veía cómo sus glúteos se contraían, empujando la polla al interior de Sara. Gracias a la nueva postura, consiguió introducir casi la mitad de su polla en la primera y suave embestida, antes de notar resistencia. La sutileza de Emmanuel había permitido que Sara regulara su respiración por la nariz, abriendo y cerrando las aletas rítmicamente. Emmanuel sacó todo el miembro de la boca, rebosante de saliva, y flexionó un poco más las rodillas. Ahora su polla quedaba dentro de la boca de Sara sin posibilidad de maniobra. Ella también se acomodó para permitir que el miembro de Emmanuel entrase más suavemente. Emmanuel volvió a embestir con más fuerza, introduciendo casi de golpe todo el trozo de carne que Sara ya conocía en su boca. Entonces comenzó a follarla de nuevo, dejando salir cuatro o cinco centímetros e introduciendo un poco más de polla con cada acometida. En seguida Sara notó cómo la punta del pene de Emmanuel chocaba contra su campanilla e hizo señales de que parara, espantada. Emmanuel se detuvo, retiró la mano del respaldo del sofá, la puso sobre su mejilla y comenzó a acariciarla mientras susurraba un "ssshhhh" para que se calmase, pero sin sacar la mitad de su miembro de la boca de ella. Desde la posición de Sara no podía ver la cara de Emmanuel, únicamente tenía un primer plano de sus huevos a escasos centímetros de sus ojos. Entonces Emmanuel tensó los músculos de los glúteos y empezó a presionar con firmeza contra la garganta de Sara. Mi novia comenzó a emitir ruidos guturales que a duras penas se oían a través del tapón que hacía la polla de Emmanuel en su boca. Con las manos agarraba con fuerza los cojines del sofá y pataleaba con los pies. Todo en ella transmitía una angustia total por quedarse sin aire. Pero yo no era capaz de parar eso. Miré a Ana y vi cómo se había bajado la cremallera del pantalón y se estaba masturbando sin separar los ojos de la polla de su novio. Completamente ido, volví a mirar a mi novia justo a tiempo de ver cómo su cuello se dilataba. Emmanuel estaba venciendo la presión de la garganta de Sara, había superado la campanilla, y tan solo eran visibles 5 o seis centímetros de polla fuera de su boca. Sara estaba completamente agarrotada, con la boca desencajada. Instintivamente, había arqueado la espalda para acoger el intruso en su garganta, y tenía las fosas nasales completamente abiertas. Pero Emmanuel, ahora que tenía acceso libre, continuó hundiendo su polla en la garganta de Sara. Yo miraba boquiabierto cómo iban desapareciendo los centímetros en su boca, cómo sus huevos se restregaban por la cara de mi novia. Hasta que toda su polla desapareció. Con 25 centímetros de polla negra insertada en mi novia, Emmanuel se detuvo y sonrió, mirando a Ana, que continuaba masturbándose. – Toda – dijo en tono de victoria. – Ha costado, ¿eh bonita? – No supe si se lo estaba diciendo a Sara o a Ana. Pero mostraba una sonrisa triunfal. – Ahora falta la segunda parte. – Y me miró a mí. Yo le devolví la mirada. Creo que vio la excitación en mis ojos, porque su sonrisa se hizo más grande. - Y hasta el final – dije yo, recordando la prueba.Emmanuel estaba dispuesto a follar la boca de mi novia hasta el final, hasta correrse en su garganta. La idea me excitó tanto que olvidé mi pudor y dirigí mi mano a mi entrepierna. Ana me miraba insistentemente y eso aún me excitó más. Sin poder aguantar ni un segundo más, me bajé la cremallera y liberé mi polla por el lateral del slip. En ese momento me pareció gigantesca. Estaba roja, dolorosamente rígida y quemaba. El contacto con el exterior fue tan agradable que sonreí de placer sin dejar de mirar a Ana, que tenía los ojos fijos en mi miembro. Me cogí ostentosamente el miembro con la mano derecha y volví a mirar a Sara. Emmanuel había comenzado a retirar unos centímetros de polla de la garganta de mi novia. Cuando hubo sacado unos centímetros, volvió a embestir con fuerza hasta el final, ahora ya sin resistencia alguna. Repitió el proceso otra vez, y otra, cada vez más rápido. Enseguida le estaba metiendo carne a diez centímetros por segundo. Yo comencé a masturbarme igual que hacía Ana y enseguida acoplé mi ritmo a las acometidas de Emmanuel. Ana empezó a gemir lujuriosamente, a punto de llegar al orgasmo. Emmanuel también respiraba aceleradamente, con la mirada fija en cómo su propia polla aparecía y desaparecía en la boca de mi novia. Cada poco tiempo, Emmanuel retiraba la mitad de su miembro para que Sara pudiera respirar brevemente por la nariz antes de volver a enterrarlo en su boca, golpeando fuertemente con los testículos su cara. Sara había dejado de sollozar y arqueaba la espalda con los pies apoyados en el sofá. Sara hacía eso cuando estaba a punto de correrse. Era evidente que también estaba muy excitada y el miedo había dejado paso a la lujuria. Los testículos de Emmanuel golpeaban ruidosamente contra sus ojos cada vez que éste le endilgaba la polla hasta el fondo. Las embestidas de Emmanuel cada vez se aceleraban más y le costaba mantener el equilibrio. En una de estas, se dejó caer hacia delante, apoyando las manos sobre los pechos de Sara, que a su vez cayó sobre el sofá. El efecto fue que la polla de Emmanuel se introdujo salvajemente en la garganta de Sara, más de lo que lo había estado antes, con los huevos apretujados contra su nariz. Emmanuel aprovechó para romperle la blusa y meter las manos bajo el top. Sara y Ana gritaron de placer a la vez. Ana estaba teniendo un orgasmo, con la mano derecha se masajeaba el clítoris y con la izquierda se apretaba el pecho derecho con fuerza. Yo tenía la mano húmeda y mi polla resbalaba frenéticamente en el agujero de mi mano. Estaba a punto de correrme cuando los gritos de Sara me llamaron la atención. Cada vez que la potente verga del senegalés se hundía en la garganta de Sara, ésta gemía con pasión. Había elevado el culo sobre el sofá, apoyándose en los pies, y movía la pelvis al ritmo de las embestidas de Emmanuel, que continuaba follándola salvajemente mientras le estrujaba los pechos uno contra el otro, ya libres del top, con los ojos fijos en ellos, como si además de la boca le estuviera follando las tetas. Las arremetidas de Emmanuel se aceleraron aún más, mientras Sara estallaba en un gemido continuo, elevando la cintura hasta donde sus piernas le permitían. La visión del éxtasis de Sara provocó un nuevo orgasmo de Ana, que gritaba sin tapujos a la vez que arrastraba su culo sobre la mesa y se apretaba los pechos desnudos como si le faltasen manos. En medio de esa bacanal de gemidos se oyó entonces el grito ronco de Emmanuel, que hundió brutalmente la polla en la garganta de mi novia, apretando con los riñones y los glúteos contraídos. Sara, a pesar de tener la cara hundida bajo los huevos de Emmanuel, alzó las manos y, cogiéndole de los muslos, aumentó la fuerza de la penetración, como si ella fuera la cazadora y no quisiera que se le escapase ni un milímetro de su presa. Con la polla hundida en la garganta, los espasmos del orgasmo de Emmanuel eran claramente visibles en el cuello de Sara. Me imaginé los chorros de esperma espeso y caliente que el senegalés estaba escupiendo directos al estómago de mi novia. Una tras otra se sucedían las convulsiones de su polla sin que ninguno de los dos cediera ni siquiera un milímetro. Sin poder aguantar ni un segundo más, me corrí violentamente, sin fijarme siquiera dónde iba a parar mi eyaculación, pero notando el intenso calor que con cada espasmo me quemaba por dentro. Acompañado de los gemidos insistentes de Ana, me pareció que mi orgasmo duraba minutos hasta que noté cómo el semen me resbalaba por la mano. Increíblemente, el pene de Emmanuel continuaba pulsando en el cuello de Sara, eyaculando esperma. Mi novia continuaba con las manos en los muslos de él, pero ya no hacía fuerza. Tenía la cara roja por la falta de oxígeno. Tras la última convulsión, Emmanuel aún dejó su instrumento hundido unos segundos más en la garganta de Sara antes de empezar a retirarlo poco a poco, gozando con los ojos cerrados de las sensaciones del suave roce del interior de la boca de Sara en su pene hipersensible. Cuando acabó de sacarlo, volví a maravillarme del tamaño de su instrumento y de que toda esa carne hubiera estado en la boca de Sara. La polla de Emmanuel estaba reluciente de saliva y de la punta de su capullo aún caían las últimas gotas de su eyaculación, que fueron a parar al paladar y la nariz de Sara. Ésta, después de un estertor para recuperar aire, intentó elevar la cabeza con dolor. La posición y la tensión acumulada en el cuello habían hecho que se le agarrotase. Cuando consiguió sentarse en el sofá, se pasó la mano por la cara, recogiendo las mucosidades que rezumaban de su boca y su nariz, a la vez que continuaba respirando con fuerza, intentando recuperar el aliento. Después de aquel festival de gemidos llegó el silencio. Ana continuaba sentada en la esquina de la mesita, con las piernas abiertas. Mantenía la mano hundida en su entrepierna y el pantalón estaba completamente mojado. Avergonzado, comprobé cómo mi esperma había salpicado sus piernas y gruesos chorretones caían por su plano vientre, pero ella parecía que ni siquiera se había dado cuenta y continuaba agarrándose el pecho. Yo también estaba paralizado, con el pene encogiéndose en mi mano y los pantalones perdidos de semen. Sara me miraba con cara sorprendida, no sé si por lo que acababa de hacer o por toda la situación. Había apoyado la mano en su vientre, y pensé que estaba dándose cuenta de que acababa de tragarse completamente la interminable corrida de Emmanuel. En medio de ese silencio, oímos sorprendidos la voz de Emmanuel. - Muy bien... prueba superada. - Los tres nos giramos hacia él. Su enorme polla, reluciente de saliva, colgaba entre sus piernas impúdica. De la punta continuaban cayendo gotas de saliva mezcladas con semen que manchaban la alfombra. Riendo, nos miró y dijo: - ¿Qué? ¿Continuamos jugando?.

Authors/nikto30/El Gran Dalmuti.txt

Parker

Fever

...things to me. I kicked at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle them from my sweaty legs. They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet free and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very short time I would be shivering so badly that I'd be forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but for now I was just too hot. Damn fever. The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I wouldn't let him miss work. Besides, it wasn't like he could do anything. I just had to sweat it out. Literally. The doorbell rang. I squinted at the clock radio: just past 11 am. Who could that be? Not Sandra surely; I'd had Frank phone her last night to tell her I was sick and cancel our lunch. I toyed with the notion of just laying in bed and ignoring the bell - it rang again - but decided against it. It might be important. I slid off the bed, wrapped my thick robe around my shivering body and walked slowly towards the door. The stairs gave me some difficulty - I was pretty dizzy - but I grabbed the handrail and took it one step at a time. It took a while - the bell rang again before I reached the bottom - but I eventually made it. Flushed and sweating, I opened the door. It was a nurse, but dressed like no nurse I had ever seen before. She wore the white nurse's uniform, but the skirt was very short, barely covering her thighs, and the neckline plunged down to the top of her breasts in a deep vee. She was extremely attractive - funny, it must have been the fever; I didn't normally think of other women as attractive - with thick, red hair, a slender body and long... long, stocking-clad legs... I must have been staring at her legs where they disappeared under the skirt - once again, it must have been the fever - 'cause she cleared her throat to get my attention. If it hadn't been for the fever, I'm sure my face would have burned with embarrassment. She spoke. "Mrs Blair?" I nodded, croaking out a "yes". "I'm nurse Welles, from Homecare Inc." She adjusted her little hat. "I've been hired to look in on you." That made sense. I assumed that Frank, or possibly Sandra, had decided that I needed some medical attention. Very thoughtful, really. "Come in." I took a step back from the door, but stumbled. I was still rather dizzy and weak. The nurse rushed forward and grabbed my shoulder, steadying me. "Here," she said. "You belong on your back." She was right; a fresh wave of dizziness washed over me. She put her hand around my shoulders and helped me back up the steps. At one point, I stumbled, and she dropped her hand to my rear end to steady me. She kept it there for the rest of the journey, using it to control my progress. I was acutely aware of it... squeezing, rubbing... Finally we reached the bedroom and she steered me into the bed. "Now you just lie there, honey," she told me, pulling off my robe, "and let nurse Welles take care of you." Shivering, I fell back onto the mattress. The nurse fixed the pillow behind my head and then began straightening out the tangled sheets at my feet. I watched for a bit. In my feverish state, her movements seemed almost hypnotic. Her long, slender arms moving over my body; the way her red hair tumbled out from beneath the white cap bent over... I was quite unable to take my eyes off her. Eventually, however, the fever took hold and I began to drift away. I was so tired. I think I fell into a bit of a daze. It was like I was dreaming. I felt my nightie - a long tee-shirt, really - being pulled up until it was bunched under my chin. Then a voice: "Just relax... relax... leave everything to nurse Welles... she'll take care of you..." I relaxed. Then I felt a pair of soft hands - *her* hands - running along the top of my chest and then down to my breasts. My breasts! I wanted to sit up and push those hands away - I'd *never* been touched there by another woman - but it felt so good. Those hands slid over my breasts, rubbing... massaging... tweaking my nipples... I couldn't help but let out a quiet moan as the hands left my breasts and then moved slowly across my stomach and down to my pussy. "Just relax..." I felt her finger on the top of my pussy, just touching, teasing me... I moaned and thrust my hips up to meet that finger, but every time I did so, it moved away, not quite losing contact, but just enough so the pressure didn't increase. "Please..." Was that my voice begging? I must have been delirious. But it felt so good. After a few moments, I felt her hands parting my thighs. I helped, opening my legs as far as they could go and thrusting upwards with my crotch. I was rewarded with an extra bit of pressure, and let out a moan. Then I felt something cool and wettish, sliding down between my legs and up against my rear end. "Just relax..." It pushed up against my anus. I tried to clench my ass muscles to stop it from entering, but every time I tightened up, the finger left my clit. Whimpering in frustration, I gave in and let her push the object into me. Further and further... and the deeper it went, the more pressure was brought to bear on my clit. I'd never had anything up there before, so it felt kind of strange. Hurt a bit, but the feelings of pleasure caused by the hand on my pussy more than made up for any discomfort. By now I was moaning and whimpering, desperate to come. The feelings built and built until I was thrashing about on the bed, humping my crotch into the air as far as I could, trying, needing to... Ahhh... I sat up, drenched with sweat, pulling my soaked hand away from my crotch. I'd evidently masturbated myself to orgasm while I was sleeping. The fever did strange things to me. I kicked at the soaked sheets, trying to disentangle them from my sweaty legs. They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet free and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very short time I would be shivering so badly that I'd be forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but for now I was just too hot. Damn fever. The mild flu that had sent me to bed early on Friday night had, over the weekend, developed into a raging fever. Frank had wanted to stay home with me, but I wouldn't let him miss work. Besides, it wasn't like he could do anything. I just had to sweat it out. Literally. The doorbell rang...

Collections/libertine/Electra_Magazine_1996/Parker.Fever.1996.txt

In Extremis

...but she had one habit that I thought was a sweet romantic gesture, one of the tiny ones that you don't give much thought to but add richness to a relationship. She used to lightly kiss me on my closed eyelids, first one then the other. It was awkward the first few times she did it, since I didn't know what she was up to and tended to keep my eyes open -- kind of like bumping noses when you first learn to kiss. But after a little while I grew comfortable with it, grew to enjoy the brief coolness that the moisture imparted. It didn't occur to me to ask why she did it -- I guess I assumed that it was something like her expression of a wish that everything I looked at would be pleasing -- but I didn't really care. It was just nice. She had to get up for work before I did, and sometimes she'd kiss my eyes that way before she left, when I'd be lying in bed and looked like I was asleep. When that happened I wouldn't stir, wouldn't let on that I was awake. I thought that might be intruding somehow on her private ritual, that it might inhibit her in the future. One morning after the kisses I heard her grab her keys, head for the door, hesitate, then come back by me. She took off her clothes and then, ever so gently, slipped into bed next to me, obviously trying to not wake me up. I remember what an unexpected treat it was for me, feeling the warmth of her body next to mine. But next she started kissing my eyes, in a different way, with a slow, wet intensity, still trying not to disturb me. I was totally confused, totally curious, and a little amused -- she was kissing my eyes as if they were my lips. After a while it seemed really funny, and my body shook slightly as I stifled a laugh. She apparently thought I was waking, and quickly and quietly left for work. This happened several more times. I wanted to ask her what was going on, but at this point I was hesitant to say anything because I'd have to admit that I'd been pretending to be asleep all those times. One morning I found myself getting aroused, so I pretended to awaken and began kissing her in return, starting with her lips and slowly working my way down. When I got close to her crotch it seemed like she was sending out a signal that she didn't want me there. Then I noticed: She was wet. Very wet. Clearly something about kissing my eyes in that way was very exciting for her. My curiosity killing me, I asked her what was going on. She got embarrassed, looked away, tried to change the subject. I held her, stroked her hair, and told her that nothing she could tell me would make me think less of her, that I wasn't going to judge her in any way. After a while she told me about it, though she still wouldn't look at me while she spoke. She said that at first she just found something inexplicably erotic about eyeball kissing, licking, and sucking. At some point she imagined sucking so hard that she removed the eyeballs, and the idea was so immediately, intensely exciting that she found it hard even to examine the thought head on. After that it became nearly all she could think of when she was around me. She decided that what was so thrilling for her was that in the fantasy she allowed herself to be so selfish as to take forever from me something so precious as my eyesight, just for a few minutes of pleasure for her. She buried her head in my chest and squeaked out, in guilt and embarrassment, that of course she would never want to actually do something like that in real life, but that even talking about it was turning her on. I had several reactions all at once, as I comforted her and continued to stroke her hair. I was amused at how silly fantasies sometimes are -- the idea of her having the strength to remove an eyeball from its socket was ridiculous. I was disturbed that the person who I thought loved me so much could even fantasize about harming me that much. I was pleased that she trusted me enough to talk to me about it, and I felt very close to her at that moment. And, though I couldn't begin to admit it to myself, I think that a tiny part of myself was also very excited at the thought of her wanting to hurt me so much. Mainly I was concerned with hiding most of those feelings from her, and with being supportive and encouraging her honesty. I told her that of course it didn't bother me, that I understood that she was talking about fantasy and not real life, and that I was so happy that she felt she could share that with me. I went even farther. I couldn't believe what I heard myself saying, but I told her that if she wanted to, we could explore the fantasy a little bit. I told her that she could kiss my eyes anytime she wanted, and that she could do pretty much anything she wanted to, so long as it didn't cause any damage or too much pain. I said that acting it out a little might serve to relieve some of the compulsion, and at the very least she could get some fun out of it. I said that there wasn't any danger because we would never combine it with bondage, and I could always stop her if she started to go too far. She looked up at me, gave a cute little smile, and said, "You mean, like right now?" We moved to the bed, with her on top. We started with a long kissing session, which we both loved so much. She then moved slowly upward, gently kissing my upper lip, nose, cheek, and finally my eyelids. It was more relaxed than before, since we knew we had all the time in the world, and since there was no longer a secret between us. After a long period she whispered that she wanted me to open my eyelids for her. It was a command, a soft command, but a command nevertheless. I did so, and she started to kiss and lick my eyeballs themselves. At first it was difficult for me -- her tongue did tend to irritate the corneas, and I had to struggle against the reflex to close my lids -- but eventually I was able to relax and accept it. Her tongue became more insistent, probing far under the eyelids, and it was becoming just about uncomfortable enough for me to complain, when she switched to gentle sucking. I would have thought that would have made me very uneasy, knowing about her fantasy, but it felt rhythmic and calming, and took the tension out of my eye muscles. I felt like I was getting a special intimate massage from the one I loved, and who loved me. I could feel her wetness soaking all the way through her clothes, and later we had slow, deep, powerful sex. Afterward she laid her head on my chest, as was our habit. We stayed that way forever, completely spent and speechless. That night was the high point. Things slowly moved downhill from there. I wanted her to feel comfortable with her fantasy so I never refused her, but she wanted to do it more and more often, to the point where conventional affection and sex were being pushed aside. It got to the point where anytime we'd start to kiss I'd know that at some point she'd totally abandon my lips and focus on my eyes. It was as if I wasn't even in the room -- it was just her and my eyes, and I felt alone. Gone was the gentleness of before. She became forceful and demanding, as if I owed it to her to let her do as she wished. And I became bothered by what I knew was going on in her head, making me want to recoil. It always ended the same way: She would start to cause me serious pain. I'd ask her nicely to stop. She'd say, "Just a little more." I'd *tell* her to stop. She'd ignore me. Then I'd beg her to stop. She'd ignore me. Finally I'd push her away, first gently and then, when she wouldn't budge, as hard as I could. She'd give me a look of hurt, anger, frustration, and starvation, then go away and sulk. If I went over to her to try to kiss and make up, things would go fine for a few minutes, sometimes she'd even apologize, but then she'd start again. But the worst part of it all was that it was exciting to me too. I could no longer deny that to myself, but I found myself shifting my body around so that she wouldn't feel my cock. But she knew. Around the time of her birthday things unexpectedly got better. She left my eyes alone for a week beforehand, and we left to spend some time together in the small farmhouse her parents had left her. It was where we occasionally played with bondage. We had some toys in the basement there, and a wide, thick padded wooden table with restraints. I knew that there wouldn't be any bondage this trip, though -- at least not where *I* was tied down -- because I no longer trusted her enough. Mostly we spent the days leading up to her birthday just being lazy, which was a real treat for me since it was hard for me to relax.On her birthday, she took me downstairs, sat me on the sofa, and told me what she wanted for her present. She said that she appreciated what I had done so far for her in terms of her fantasy, but now she craved more reality. She said that what she really wanted to do was to take my clothes off, tie me to the table, and take my eyes. She said that she definitely wanted to go all the way through with it. She understood that I might not be willing to do so, but she wanted me to go as far along that path with her as I could. She said that she wouldn't push me to go farther than that, but that I wouldn't be allowed to backtrack even one step. Allowed. I shivered at that word, as excited as I was apprehensive. But there wasn't anything to fear -- I could quit anytime I wanted to, and the touch of reality would turn us both on. And even if things got a little bit out of hand, I could trust her not to seriously hurt me, right? She leaned over and started kissing me. Soft, yielding, and loving, just like she was before all this started. We kissed for an hour, then she started to remove my clothes. I reached out to unbutton her blouse, and she slapped my hand. I tried again, and she slapped my face, hard. So hard that my ears rang. She had never done that before, and I was stunned. Not knowing how to react, I tried to cover my confusion with nervous laughter. She gave me a broad smile, as if she had won something from me, and continued to remove my clothes. Eventually, I sat there, cold and naked, while she, fully clothed, stared directly at my body. It seemed ridiculous that a little thing like clothes should make such a difference, but the power balance had shifted. I had to get some clothes back on. I reached down to the floor, to pick up my shirt. She slapped my face again, hard, and when I started to open my mouth in protest, slapped it again. I felt like I should have been angry, but I just sat there, still not knowing how to react, not sure what to do, just knowing that I didn't want to get slapped again. She softened, and pressed up against me again, resuming the kissing. I felt more relaxed, since she was no longer staring at my nakedness, and since the warmth of her body offered at least a little protection from the cold. She reached down and started stroking my cock, then leaned over to my ear. "It's actually going to happen tonight. I'm actually going to do it to you," she half whispered, half moaned. Her words seemed to go straight from my ears to my cock, and I panicked -- I have to get it away from her, she can't know the effect her words will have on me. I tried to pull my crotch away from her hand, but she grabbed my balls with her other hand and squeezed, and I couldn't move. "Did you hear me? I'm actually going to do it to you. Tonight." My cock was rock hard, and there was no way of hiding it from her. She smiled briefly, stopped rubbing me. "I'll finish over there," she said in her best seductive voice, nodding in the direction of the table. "Subtle," I said, trying to make a joke out of it. I complained that she wasn't playing fair. She told me that I was the one who wasn't playing fair, since I was supposed to go as far as I could with her, and since I could quit just as easily from the table as I could from the sofa. I was feeling manipulated, but since I could see no flaw in the logic, I agreed. I went to the table, climbed on top, and sat in the center, moving slowly since she still had my balls in her hand. She rewarded me with more stroking, and when I tried to reciprocate, I got slapped again, and again I didn't know how to react. After a little while, she stopped once more. She said, "You know what I want you to do now, don't you? I want you to move your leg over there so that I can strap it down. Before you start whining again, let me remind you that you can always undo all of the cuffs up until the point that your last arm is strapped down. And if you quit on me now, I'm not going to let you come. Come on, move it. Now." I hate to admit this, but frightened though I was at the idea of having any part of me strapped down, the idea of approaching as close as possible to the point of no return excited me beyond belief, and there was *something* about her voice, so certain and direct, that weakened my will to resist. Plus, I very much needed to come. A little voice inside me said that she probably wouldn't let me come until after my last arm was strapped down, but I told myself that I'd deal with that when the time came. I moved my leg for her, and she strapped it in. After my reward, I let her do the other one as well. She'd buckled my legs tighter than she'd ever done before, and this, combined with my nakedness and her attitude, gave me the feeling that I was rapidly losing control of the situation. She took her bottom off and sat on me just forward of my cock, so that I could feel and hear how wet she was, then put all of her weight on me, pressing my back against the table. Without asking, she moved my right arm and strapped it down. Damn, why did it have to be the right arm? Things were going too fast for me, my heart was pounding, my mind racing, and I was so horny. I didn't even notice that she was placing a strap around my chest. Now I couldn't even sit up, and I could only reach one buckle. She started to move my remaining arm. It was now or never. I told her, in a panicky, breathless voice, that I had had fun but I really needed to put an end to this before it was too late, that I wasn't going any farther, that I didn't care whether I got to come or not. She stopped, quickly hopped off the table, got some things from a corner of the room, and returned to stand at the foot of the table. She raised one of the objects high -- I could see now that it was a nightstick -- and brought it down as hard as she could, inches from my left knee. "You are so stupid sometimes," she said with disdain, all trace of seductiveness gone from her voice. "It's already too late. You've already lost. Do you have any idea how hard it is to just get through the day when you're blind? Do you have any idea how much harder it would be if you also had two smashed knees and two smashed elbows? And were deaf?" She held up a pencil for me to see. "There's no way you could unbuckle yourself fast enough to stop me from doing that to you. I also won't let you come if you try," she said, a little bit of teasing seductiveness returning to her voice. She was right. The only chance I had was to go along with her and try to talk her out of it. She raised the nightstick again, and, in shock, I moved my arm toward the restraint. She walked around to the left side of the table, keeping well out of my reach. Cautiously, she strapped my arm in with her left hand, keeping the nightstick ready in her right. Instantly, I felt that I had made the wrong decision, that at least I had had a tiny chance to free myself in time. But now it was too late. As she added straps to secure my stomach, knees, elbows, neck, and thighs, I felt panic and helplessness build within me. When she brought gauze, tape, towels, and ointments into view, her intentions really hit home. With every bit of strength in my being, I tried to free myself. I suppose that I'd been tied down absolutely securely on previous occasions, but in the back of my mind was always the thought that I could escape if I really wanted to. This time was different, because I discovered that I absolutely could not move. I lost control of my senses and thrashed around helplessly for a half hour or so, while she sat, waiting and watching me like an owl, slowly fingering herself. When I stopped moving, exhausted, she crept up on top of me and moved to start kissing my eyelids. All I could think about was that she couldn't do what she wanted if I kept my head moving, so every time she started to kiss, I would jerk it away as best as I could. Each time I did so, she slapped me hard on the face, and she made it clear that she had days, if necessary, and she could easily outlast me. Adding to my feelings of powerlessness was the fact that my cock seemed to be on her side; every time she slapped me, it just got stiffer, and there was no way to hide that fact from her. I tried threatening her, saying that I'd tell the authorities or even kill her when it was all over. She patiently and clinically explained to me how vulnerable and defenseless a blind person is, and how many ways she could retaliate against me if I tried to hurt her. Finally, I just gave up, and decided to resume the struggle when she actually began to hurt me, hoping that in the meantime I could reason with her. She said, "Good boy," and rewarded me by taking me just below the point of orgasm, then stopped and resumed the eyelid kissing. She then explained that she didn't like the feel of my eyelashes against her tongue, and started to pull the lashes out with her teeth and fingers. I tried to protest, but she slapped me several more times, and pulled out a clump of pubic hair. I shut up. When she was done removing the lashes, she began to try to force my eyelids open with her tongue. I let her. Her tongue was stronger than I had remembered -- was there such a thing as tongue exercises? -- and she pushed it as far along the edges as she could. I felt an incredible, demoralizing sense of invasion, violation, and rape. I wanted to pull my head away, but I just couldn't -- I knew that it wouldn't make any difference in the end, and I didn't want her to hurt me any more than she'd already planned to. She grabbed a small plastic squeeze bottle from the cart. "Meat tenderizer, mostly," she said. "Muscle weakener. *And* it's tasty." She grabbed a handful of my hair, gripping hard to immobilize me, and forced the soft tip of the bottle under my lids -- not very difficult, since she had stretched them so far before.She aimed the tip between the eyeball and socket, and squeezed hard. When she was finished, she massaged my lids for a few minutes to work the greasy substance in, then left the room to get something to eat. The first thing I felt was an intense burning pain. It was nearly unbearable, but the worst part was that when I opened my eyes, I couldn't see through the stuff. It was a foretaste of blindness, and I was in despair. By the time she returned, the burning had mostly turned to itching, and it was driving me mad. I lost all my composure and begged her. I begged her to let me go. I begged her to stop the itching. I begged her to let me come. I begged her to forgive me for making her slap me so many times. She resumed licking my eyeballs, lapping up the substance. It was like finally scratching the itch, and it felt so good that I actually felt grateful for her "help." I was broken, and after that point, I cooperated with her -- if she wanted me to move my head, she just pushed it lightly in the direction she wanted, and I moved it for her. I felt relief in accepting what was going to happen to me, in giving her what she wanted. She told me that we were near the end. She stood up over me, so that I could get a good, though slightly blurry, last picture of her, looking triumphant, hands on hips. She said that she wanted to hear my pain, that I wasn't to try to hold it in. Then she began. She pulled back the lids of my left eye with her thumbs and began to suck, rhythmically, gently at first, then harder, until it was clear that she was using all of her strength. She grabbed my hair with both hands to keep my head from pulling up from the table, and to have something to push against. With each pull, I screamed louder -- the pain became so intense -- and I remember wondering whether I was hurting her ears. Toward the end, I saw white flashes and felt tiny little pops, and the eye was gone. She started on the other eye, and when she covered it with her lips and I realized I would never see anything again, I lost my acceptance and my relief. I struggled, I begged, I cried, I humiliated myself, but to no avail. All I could do was lie there and wait for it to happen. And it did. When it was all over, she mounted me -- I was still hard -- and she quickly climaxed. She released my arms. She wasn't at all afraid of me because she knew that I was helpless and couldn't even get to the hospital without her. I tried to reach down to bring myself to orgasm -- even after all I'd been through, I for some reason was nearly dying from horniness -- but she wouldn't let me and moved my hand away. She removed the rest of her clothes, put her head against my chest, and said she wanted me to hold her. Having no other significant options, I did. She lay there, satisfied, totally relaxed, knowing how much pain I was in, knowing that she had promised me sexual release, knowing how much I needed that release to salvage something from the tragedy. But she had gotten what she wanted, and she just didn't care.

Collections/libertine/Collected/In_Extremis.txt

In Extremis

....but she had one habit that I thought was a sweet romantic gesture, one of the tiny ones that you don't give much thought to but add richness to a relationship. She used to lightly kiss me on my closed eyelids, first one then the other. It was awkward the first few times she did it, since I didn't know what she was up to and tended to keep my eyes open -- kind of like bumping noses when you first learn to kiss. But after a little while I grew comfortable with it, grew to enjoy the brief coolness that the moisture imparted. It didn't occur to me to ask why she did it -- I guess I assumed that it was something like her expression of a wish that everything I looked at would be pleasing -- but I didn't really care. It was just nice. She had to get up for work before I did, and sometimes she'd kiss my eyes that way before she left, when I'd be lying in bed and looked like I was asleep. When that happened I wouldn't stir, wouldn't let on that I was awake. I thought that might be intruding somehow on her private ritual, that it might inhibit her in the future. One morning after the kisses I heard her grab her keys, head for the door, hesitate, then come back by me. She took off her clothes and then, ever so gently, slipped into bed next to me, obviously trying to not wake me up. I remember what an unexpected treat it was for me, feeling the warmth of her body next to mine. But next she started kissing my eyes, in a different way, with a slow, wet intensity, still trying not to disturb me. I was totally confused, totally curious, and a little amused -- she was kissing my eyes as if they were my lips. After a while it seemed really funny, and my body shook slightly as I stifled a laugh. She apparently thought I was waking, and quickly and quietly left for work. This happened several more times. I wanted to ask her what was going on, but at this point I was hesitant to say anything because I'd have to admit that I'd been pretending to be asleep all those times. One morning I found myself getting aroused, so I pretended to awaken and began kissing her in return, starting with her lips and slowly working my way down. When I got close to her crotch it seemed like she was sending out a signal that she didn't want me there. Then I noticed: She was wet. Very wet. Clearly something about kissing my eyes in that way was very exciting for her. My curiosity killing me, I asked her what was going on. She got embarrassed, looked away, tried to change the subject. I held her, stroked her hair, and told her that nothing she could tell me would make me think less of her, that I wasn't going to judge her in any way. After a while she told me about it, though she still wouldn't look at me while she spoke. She said that at first she just found something inexplicably erotic about eyeball kissing, licking, and sucking. At some point she imagined sucking so hard that she removed the eyeballs, and the idea was so immediately, intensely exciting that she found it hard even to examine the thought head on. After that it became nearly all she could think of when she was around me. She decided that what was so thrilling for her was that in the fantasy she allowed herself to be so selfish as to take forever from me something so precious as my eyesight, just for a few minutes of pleasure for her. She buried her head in my chest and squeaked out, in guilt and embarrassment, that of course she would never want to actually do something like that in real life, but that even talking about it was turning her on. I had several reactions all at once, as I comforted her and continued to stroke her hair. I was amused at how silly fantasies sometimes are -- the idea of her having the strength to remove an eyeball from its socket was ridiculous. I was disturbed that the person who I thought loved me so much could even fantasize about harming me that much. I was pleased that she trusted me enough to talk to me about it, and I felt very close to her at that moment. And, though I couldn't begin to admit it to myself, I think that a tiny part of myself was also very excited at the thought of her wanting to hurt me so much. Mainly I was concerned with hiding most of those feelings from her, and with being supportive and encouraging her honesty. I told her that of course it didn't bother me, that I understood that she was talking about fantasy and not real life, and that I was so happy that she felt she could share that with me. I went even farther. I couldn't believe what I heard myself saying, but I told her that if she wanted to, we could explore the fantasy a little bit. I told her that she could kiss my eyes anytime she wanted, and that she could do pretty much anything she wanted to, so long as it didn't cause any damage or too much pain. I said that acting it out a little might serve to relieve some of the compulsion, and at the very least she could get some fun out of it. I said that there wasn't any danger because we would never combine it with bondage, and I could always stop her if she started to go too far. She looked up at me, gave a cute little smile, and said, "You mean, like right now?" We moved to the bed, with her on top. We started with a long kissing session, which we both loved so much. She then moved slowly upward, gently kissing my upper lip, nose, cheek, and finally my eyelids. It was more relaxed than before, since we knew we had all the time in the world, and since there was no longer a secret between us. After a long period she whispered that she wanted me to open my eyelids for her. It was a command, a soft command, but a command nevertheless. I did so, and she started to kiss and lick my eyeballs themselves. At first it was difficult for me -- her tongue did tend to irritate the corneas, and I had to struggle against the reflex to close my lids -- but eventually I was able to relax and accept it. Her tongue became more insistent, probing far under the eyelids, and it was becoming just about uncomfortable enough for me to complain, when she switched to gentle sucking. I would have thought that would have made me very uneasy, knowing about her fantasy, but it felt rhythmic and calming, and took the tension out of my eye muscles. I felt like I was getting a special intimate massage from the one I loved, and who loved me. I could feel her wetness soaking all the way through her clothes, and later we had slow, deep, powerful sex. Afterward she laid her head on my chest, as was our habit. We stayed that way forever, completely spent and speechless. That night was the high point. Things slowly moved downhill from there. I wanted her to feel comfortable with her fantasy so I never refused her, but she wanted to do it more and more often, to the point where conventional affection and sex were being pushed aside. It got to the point where anytime we'd start to kiss I'd know that at some point she'd totally abandon my lips and focus on my eyes. It was as if I wasn't even in the room -- it was just her and my eyes, and I felt alone. Gone was the gentleness of before. She became forceful and demanding, as if I owed it to her to let her do as she wished. And I became bothered by what I knew was going on in her head, making me want to recoil. It always ended the same way: She would start to cause me serious pain. I'd ask her nicely to stop. She'd say, "Just a little more." I'd *tell* her to stop. She'd ignore me. Then I'd beg her to stop. She'd ignore me. Finally I'd push her away, first gently and then, when she wouldn't budge, as hard as I could. She'd give me a look of hurt, anger, frustration, and starvation, then go away and sulk. If I went over to her to try to kiss and make up, things would go fine for a few minutes, sometimes she'd even apologize, but then she'd start again. But the worst part of it all was that it was exciting to me too. I could no longer deny that to myself, but I found myself shifting my body around so that she wouldn't feel my cock. But she knew. Around the time of her birthday things unexpectedly got better. She left my eyes alone for a week beforehand, and we left to spend some time together in the small farmhouse her parents had left her. It was where we occasionally played with bondage. We had some toys in the basement there, and a wide, thick padded wooden table with restraints. I knew that there wouldn't be any bondage this trip, though -- at least not where *I* was tied down -- because I no longer trusted her enough. Mostly we spent the days leading up to her birthday just being lazy, which was a real treat for me since it was hard for me to relax. On her birthday she took me downstairs, sat me on the sofa, and told me what she wanted for her present. She said that she appreciated what I had done so far for her in terms of her fantasy, but now she craved more reality. She said that what she really wanted to do was to take my clothes off, tie me to the table, and take my eyes. She said that she definitely wanted to go all the way through with it. She understood that I might not be willing to do so, but she wanted me to go as far along that path with her as I could. She said that she wouldn't push me to go farther than that, but that I wouldn't be allowed to backtrack even one step. Allowed. I shivered at that word, as excited as I was apprehensive. But there wasn't anything to fear -- I could quit anytime I wanted to, and the touch of reality would turn us both on. And even if things got a little bit out of hand, I could trust her not to seriously hurt me, right?She took her bottom off and sat on me just forward of my cock, so that I could feel and hear how wet she was, then put all of her weight on me, pressing my back against the table. Without asking, she moved my right arm and strapped it down. Damn, why did it have to be the right arm? Things were going too fast for me, my heart was pounding, my mind racing, and I was so horny. I didn't even notice that she was placing a strap around my chest. Now I couldn't even sit up, and I could only reach one buckle. She started to move my remaining arm. It was now or never. I told her, in a panicky, breathless voice, that I had had fun but I really needed to put an end to this before it was too late, that I wasn't going any farther, that I didn't care whether I got to come or not. She stopped, quickly hopped off the table, got some things from a corner of the room, and returned to stand at the foot of the table. She raised one of the objects high -- I could see now that it was a nightstick -- and brought it down as hard as she could, inches from my left knee. "You are so stupid sometimes," she said with disdain, all trace of seductiveness gone from her voice. "It's already too late. You've already lost. Do you have any idea how hard it is to just get through the day when you're blind? Do you have any idea how much harder it would be if you also had two smashed knees and two smashed elbows? And were deaf?" She held up a pencil for me to see. "There's no way you could unbuckle yourself fast enough to stop me from doing that to you. I also won't let you come if you try," she said, a little bit of teasing seductiveness returning to her voice. She was right. The only chance I had was to go along with her and try to talk her out of it. She raised the nightstick again, and, in shock, I moved my arm toward the restraint. She walked around to the left side of the table, keeping well out of my reach. Cautiously, she strapped my arm in with her left hand, keeping the nightstick ready in her right. Instantly I felt that I had made the wrong decision, that at least I had had a tiny chance to free myself in time. But now it was too late. As she added straps to secure my stomach, knees, elbows, neck, and thighs, I felt panic and helplessness build within me. When she brought gauze, tape, towels, and ointments into view, her intentions really hit home. With every bit of strength in my being I tried to free myself. I suppose that I'd been tied down absolutely securely on previous occasions, but in the back of my mind was always the thought that I could escape if I really wanted to. This time was different, because I discovered that I absolutely could not move. I lost control of my senses and thrashed around helplessly for a half hour or so, while she sat, waiting and watching me like an owl, slowly fingering herself. When I stopped moving, exhausted, she crept up on top of me and moved to start kissing my eyelids. All I could think about was that she couldn't do what she wanted if I kept my head moving, so every time she started to kiss I would jerk it away as best as I could. Each time I did so she slapped me hard on the face, and she made it clear that she had days, if necessary, and she could easily outlast me. Adding to my feelings of powerlessness was the fact that my cock seemed to be on her side; every time she slapped me it just got stiffer, and there was no way to hide that fact from her. I tried threatening her, saying that I'd tell the authorities or even kill her when it was all over. She patiently and clinically explained to me how vulnerable and defenseless a blind person is, and how many ways she could retaliate against me if I tried to hurt her. Finally I just gave up, and decided to resume the struggle when she actually began to hurt me, hoping that in the meantime I could reason with her. She said, "Good boy," and rewarded me by taking me just below the point of orgasm, then stopped and resumed the eyelid kissing. She then explained that she didn't like the feel of my eyelashes against her tongue, and started to pull the lashes out with her teeth and fingers. I tried to protest, but she slapped me several more times, and pulled out a clump of pubic hair. I shut up. When she was done removing the lashes she began to try to force my eyelids open with her tongue. I let her. Her tongue was stronger than I had remembered -- was there such a thing as tongue exercises? -- and she pushed it as far along the edges as she could. I felt an incredible, demoralizing sense of invasion, violation, and rape. I wanted to pull my head away, but I just couldn't -- I knew that it wouldn't make any difference in the end, and I didn't want her to hurt me any more than she'd already planned to. She grabbed a small plastic squeeze bottle from the cart. "Meat tenderizer, mostly," she said. "Muscle weakener. *And* it's tasty." She grabbed a handful of my hair, gripping hard to immobilize me, and forced the soft tip of the bottle under my lids -- not very difficult, since she had stretched them so far before. She aimed the tip between the eyeball and socket, and squeezed hard. When she was finished she massaged my lids for a few minutes, to work the greasy substance in, then left the room to get something to eat. The first thing I felt was an intense burning pain. It was nearly unbearable, but the worst part was that, when I opened my eyes, I couldn't see through the stuff. It was a foretaste of blindness, and I was in despair. By the time she returned the burning had mostly turned to itching, and was driving me mad. I lost all my composure and begged her. I begged her to let me go. I begged her to stop the itching. I begged her to let me come. I begged her to forgive me for making her slap me so many times. She resumed licking my eyeballs, lapping up the substance. It was like finally scratching the itch, and it felt so good that I actually felt grateful for her "help." I was broken, and after that point cooperated with her -- if she wanted me to move my head she just pushed it lightly in the direction she wanted, and I moved it for her. I felt relief in accepting what was going to happen to me, in giving her what she wanted. She told me that we were near the end. She stood up over me, so that I could get a good, though slightly blurry, last picture of her, looking triumphant, hands on hips. She said that she wanted to hear my pain, that I wasn't to try to hold it in. Then she began. She pulled back the lids of my left eye with her thumbs, and began to suck, rhythmically, gently at first, then harder, until it was clear that she was using all of her strength. She grabbed my hair with both hands to keep my head from pulling up from the table, and to have something to push against. With each pull I screamed louder -- the pain became so intense -- and I remember wondering whether I was hurting her ears. Toward the end I saw white flashes and felt tiny little pops, and the eye was gone. She started on the other eye, and when she covered it with her lips and I realized I would never see anything again, I lost my acceptance and my relief. I struggled, I begged, I cried, I humiliated myself, but to no avail. All I could do was lie there and wait for it to happen. And it did. When it was all over she mounted me -- I was still hard -- and she quickly climaxed. She released my arms. She wasn't at all afraid of me, because she knew that I was helpless, and couldn't even get to the hospital without her. I tried to reach down to bring myself to orgasm -- even after all I'd been through, I for some reason was nearly dying from horniness -- but she wouldn't let me, and moved my hand away. She removed the rest of her clothes, put her head against my chest, and said she wanted me to hold her. Having no other significant options, I did. She lay there, satisfied, totally relaxed, knowing how much pain I was in, knowing that she had promised me sexual release, knowing how much I needed that release to salvage something from the tragedy. But she had gotten what she wanted, and she just didn't care.

Collections/libertine/BBS_txt_1980s_1990s/In_Extremis.txt

Peter Anselmo

Magda

...to express something to me. She said she had shopping to do, maybe two or three hours of it, and then she'd return. After she left, I went to the window and I watched the street as best as I could to see her come out the front entrance. She came out with the doorman beside her, and then he stepped out into the street to wave down a taxi for her. He held the door as she climbed into the cab, and then she was gone, the taxi heading south. After that, I returned to my chair in the living room to finish reading the newspaper. But soon I had to put the newspaper down because I had no further interest in it. It's always like that when she leaves me alone. I can't seem to concentrate on anything when she's gone, and of course when she's with me again, my mind is completely occupied with her, and what we say to each other, and what we do together, and so on. I sat in the chair for about an hour. I had the television on, but I paid hardly any attention to it. I like this East Side apartment better than her old West Side apartment or my own apartment in the Village. For one thing, the building service is much better and the street in front of the entrance is always clean. I don't go out of the apartment that much, but when I do go out with Magda, it's more pleasant to have a clean sidewalk in front of the building. My physical condition continues to slowly deteriorate, but I have the impression now that it's leveling off. Magda says the weakness won't persist, and that it's merely a matter of my body making an adjustment to things. Since it's almost three months that we've been together now, I suppose the idea that a plateau has been reached might be accurate. In any case, she continues to drain me two or three times a day, depending on her mood and on her assessment of my physical condition. She does her best to keep me primed, of course, and that part of it is always exciting. The most extraordinary thing is that it's never possible to predict her behavior in advance, predict what she'll do or what she won't do...She was standing at the full-length mirror, kissing her image. This time she was naked, evidently just out of her bath, her body still damp and parts of the mirror steaming with moisture. As she kissed her image, she extended her tongue, and for a second or two her tongue appeared to be doubled, neatly forked down the center, the two points fluttering against the glass to meet the other two points, the ensemble like four wriggling serpents dueling with each other. Then one of her hands moved between her belly and the mirror, and she began rubbing herself, masturbating as she kissed the image of her lips. This excited me greatly. I'd seen her touch herself before, but I'd never watched her masturbate to an orgasm, and I was hoping she would do it now so I could see it. The rubbing of her cunt continued, her belly moving back and forth against the mirror as she kissed her image. Then, after a while, she slid her free hand around behind herself and between her buttocks, and in a moment it was clear she had a finger in her anus while the other hand continued rubbing her sex. This went on for about a minute, and then finally her body twitched out of control and she flattened herself against the mirror, made a horrible noise in her throat, and then opened her mouth to spew a black liquid against the glass. The next moment she turned, the black liquid smeared over her face, and she seemed to look directly at me. I immediately moved backward into the darkness of my room and I climbed into bed again. An instant later the door connecting our rooms slammed shut and I heard the clicking sound that meant Magda had locked it. I lay there in the dark thinking about what I'd seen, wondering if she'd actually noticed me watching her. Would she finally come into the room and express her anger? But nothing happened. After twenty minutes or so, I switched on the light and I rose up to get dressed. We went out to dinner to a place we'd visited before, and nothing unusual happened. But after dinner, when we arrived home, Magda seemed more irritable than usual, and it occurred to me it might be because of what had happened earlier. I'd had only one emission during the day, and now she decided it was time for another. She told me to unzip my fly and bring my penis out, and after I did that she told me to masturbate. "Make yourself hard," she said. "I'd rather you worked at it yourself." She watched me do it awhile, watched me stroke my penis with my hand as I stood on the carpet near her, and then she leaned back in the chair and pulled at her dress to uncover her thighs. She opened her legs to show me her crotch, but she was wearing pantyhose and I couldn't see too much. As if reading my mind, she said: "It's enough for you. I'm not undressing yet, so this is all you're seeing of my cunt." It made no difference, because I had no trouble keeping the erection and bringing myself to the point when I could tell her I was about to come so she could take the emission in her mouth. But this time something unexpected happened. When I felt myself getting close, I slowed down the stroking with my fingers, but somehow it didn't work and I started coming. Two huge spurts came out and landed very close to Magda on the leather sofa where she was sitting. She stared at me in disbelief. I tried holding back the rest of it, but all I could manage to do was to have it gushing out over my hand. She rose up screaming at me. "You stupid fool, I was counting on it!" She came at me like a tigress, forced me down on the carpet and took my wilting penis in her mouth to suck out whatever she could. Then she licked my hand, cleaning it of the sperm that covered it. When she finished that, she remembered the sofa and she crawled to it over the carpet, reached it and started licking the sperm off the leather. Then she licked her fingers clean, and when she looked at me I saw the anger in her eyes. "I think you did that deliberately." "No, it's not true." "You were spying on me before in my bedroom." "Please, Magda..." "Don't worry, you'll pay for everything..."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/12247.txt

Jake Struthers

Her curly long red hair...

...flowed over a pair of knockout sweet young breasts as she sat there on the bed. I only talked to her once on the phone after checking out her photo on the web page, but geeeezzzz, I really had no idea! She looked over to the guy on the chair beside the bed, "Don't mind him, my husband only likes to watch." "Go ahead, you can have her, she's all yours," he said with a warm friendly smile. She then looked up at me with a coy grin on her fresh young face. She parted her perfect legs only slightly, but enough to expose a flame red patch. I moved forward, almost intoxicated with her slightly freckled, cream white skin, and her swollen lips and a pair of innocent eyes you could stare into all day long. She then sat up attentively and started unbuckling the belt of my pants... To feel her turned-up nose nuzzling up to my pubic hairs as her lips wrapped wantingly to the hilt of my shaft. And that gorgeous red hair tumbling over my balls... all of this was far too much... I tried to warn her, but she reached around to grab my butt and pulled me in tighter. I had no other choice than to shoot the largest load ever, deeply between the lips of her eager mouth, over the length of her luxuriously seeking tongue. She removed my still hard cock, admired it, rubbed it over her sweet little face, looked up at me and said, "Would you like a drink or something, and we'll do that again?" I looked over to her husband, who I happened to notice was just finishing himself up. He stood and took three steps toward the bed. (I could tell they had done this before.) She quickly moved to take his prick in her freshly lubricated mouth just at the right time. Bam! I never saw another man come like that before. She held his balls with both hands just to stay close, as he pumped her cheeks full of cum that soon came dripping down her chin and onto the long rippling waves of red hair which was now hanging down in drapes between his quivering thighs. He withdrew, but then he kept gushing all over her forehead and into her brilliant locks on both sides of her smiling face. As she laid back on the bed, for the first time I saw how firm and large her breasts were. Now beaded with fresh sperm, each adorned by a silver dollar-sized, pink and puckered nipple. She laughed and said, "Whew, I need to take a short shower after that one." She pranced off to the bathroom, grabbing some little slinky thing on the way. Still recovering, falling back into the chair by the bed, her husband looked over to me and smiled, saying, "I knew you would like her." YES THIS REALLY HAPPENED TO ME AND I'LL REMEMBER IT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, and it was easy! Believe it or not, it's all up to you! All I had to do was answer a classified ad at this place: http://www.alternativeconnections.com/index.htm?AssociateID=111378 I just had to share this one. Man, trust me, you will not be disappointed! Try to have yourself a good day, I did... yeeee haaaaaaaa! Jake

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13106.txt

T.H.Boe and Guttorm Nordø

Damage Control

...and I presume it was the exact point of turning that surprised me...the sudden drop... splash of well-tempered wine...the slash of the wrist and the way to innocence and then, nothing to remember but the only memory; quiet, quite quiet, quiet, in fact, stone dead; stones crying for resurrection, me standing somewhere near with my madrigal, silenced, preparing a loop of some exquisite dreamaterial, dusty winds that erode the mountains of torment / the piles of trash to be published. To stand up straight, blood rushing at the maximum speed of two inches per second. Minimizes the efforts to combine the (brainmilk) with the (seed) thus leaving the (dreamproject) open for misinterpretations. Somebody waiting for signals. Has been waiting for 4 years. Still without leaving the stage. Anyway, the ladder was cut to pieces before the carpenter even thought of making it. That's just how dreams function. In another dim light climbing up and clinging to pure air can be seen as the greatest of all arts. To draw rune-like figures and sketch up usable frames in black xylene-free permanent ink on the vast canvas of transparent oxygen is one thing. Shuffling them around and make them fit reality another and much more heroic act of absurdity than any turkey on a three-wheel bike would care to consider as something worth making noise about: His art is of a heterodox kind, like a lay figure laid out in front of his vehicle, not noticed, driven by and over. Not like Jørn's huge ceramic relief made with a Vespa scooter. Not like any art, not like anything, even not like absurdity. Concrete turkey loves to be driven - doesn't seem to avoid any means to an end, reflected upon particularly by gay nigger-loving neo-Nazis throwing ethnic bombs in the mix, capture the word and world in Japanese machines labeled as soul-rewarding, fuck these acts of random terror the straight zool with pierced asshole said dancing on officially sponsored acres of nuclear power plants and other chemicals. Did anybody hear me, when I shattered the plexiglass frequency console, did you know that (------) pierce your own brain dreadlock-Hitler (------) shove it up your (------) and descend to a cave far beyond Hell: Fall down stairs head first, pass 1 1/2 billion steps, count them backwards (if you're not strangled by your evil shoelaces) ‚ shove it up shove it down, your madness is too personal. While you're down there bring my greetings to the owner or inventor of this huge garbage heap called World. There's a Word War going on but I refuse to talk. Make your next move from a position underneath the Synthetic Cow pissing BrainMilk BrainMilk RainMilk PainMilk VainMilk GainMilk KainMilk InsaneMilk. And punch-drunk on the mentioned BrainMilk, you slowly move into the woods on a rainy foggy night, to experience the three-dee polaroid painting taking your breath away, and she enters... Dusk dripping from the leaves above her, soft shivering slowly escaping restraint tuning into the pulse, the sensuality of being allowed to caress her body half naked totally vulnerable but too filled with strength to be noted as fragile, caress the monastery tickling with wet grass and warm pebbles, never to return in the same state as escaping, having an orgasm free of sex but arousing and evoking pregnancy deep within... Maybe to waste some more words on this incident would be naïve, but not to would be an offense... And after the magic the melancholy, the bitterness and anxiety connected to taking the consequences of leaving this ThoughtTrain always in motion. Acts undone. Sights unseen. The GoGetters are in a state of constant hunger; in-between minds and lines. Above our heads, the Controller, the ruler of knots'n'knobs and everything and drunken dreams: Intricate Cat Acts, sudden Simplicities, conscious beyond considerations: ExtraTerrestrials, we're ready for leaving home! But She, the DuskDripping One, who'd never believed in UFOs, she's the one who was picked up. Snorted by the Prime Nostrils of Clarity. The goal of leaving home is quite difficult to reach. When; a) you do not have one, or; b) you carry your castle in your heart. In order to leave you either have to find some substitute to leave or (again) perform some kind of self-surgery. A bloody mess if you ask me, but you don't. Way out (of line again)...the same words. Neglected by self-restraint. Don't blame The Control on The Controller, the ThoughtTrain is that of Choice, the Snake and the Apple are present in your solar plexus gallery... Starting or ending, I don't know, I keep on crawling inside your mind, sorting out memories of apples: The fresh ones, the rotten ones, the red, green, poisoned ones ‚ eyeapples, soft, like glass melting in front of your view. Matterless stonetouch: Me the Snake within You Apple: Raise your eyes, look up inside your skull, see the universe you're creating, holding up. Atlas-Apple, you're the pepper of Cosmos. Your mind's map equals the Sum Incognito. You're the source of all existence, and you're me (no way to avoid such perceptions): I am You, You are Me, We are Us. We control lives and deaths. We come, see and go. From nowhere to everywhere, from everywhere to nowhere. If we knew knowwhere, we wouldn't have been here. Lift the starknife and prepare for the cosmic dissection. Prove that the influence of the full moon has nothing to do with your horribly restless sleep. Merry-go-round of memories. Hair growing on the Inside. Making your mind and heart more and more masculine. Women have their model/matrix from the moon, and we're burning like isolated suns. The moon; the friend of travelling kind. Constant alchemy and metamorphosis. „Lux. Luna. Mater." The reflections in which you place your self in the midst, the bliss of some worldly sights of hypervisual voices (from where?), giving you strange but shiny messages, truth-alike in a non-explaining manner; freezing your attention ‚ quite quiet ‚ you can't just shut your ears ‚ the voice comes into your head through other perceiving channels. Electrified you wake up and wake up and wake up to find yourself sleeping, waving flags, signaling a long-awaited homecoming. A rehydration of instinct. Role-model aware of implants. Digital consumption of the extreme mescal experience. All pieces become icons. Your heart is just a biomechanical motor. Your soul in bloom. No connection what-so-ever between the connected and the connector. Power of some other drug than the usual. Drop it, forget speech, another culture as well ‚ rooted in your collective assembly of InPut and Deterioration. Confused now by these KnowNots 'n' Knobs. Faint manitu. Your light's blinding me. Paint my eyes white open. I've tasted my mind; oh, what you don't hide! 700 dimensions, each with 700 exits. Holy wood inside of me. BigBudgets floating by, presenting anti-stories and boring stardom. And all the independents working on different locations behind my forehead. Layers, layers. I used to wish that I was alive. and well. But ever since I met Mr. Mesc I've been collecting, putting the pieces of past and presence together. A Giga-puzzle. I saw too much. Fell too fast. Came to Dashville, ended up being a hitmaker, hitting hard, breaking, recording damages so unbelievable that in a very short time I was awarded with a blow-up for two to Atmo, that stretched and fascinating island up in the spheres. Mr. Mesc, you tricked me into meeting you, into admitting that I was a worthless creep. Before our crash-meeting I just believed in superiority. Hard to explain. Hard to maintain. But naïveté saved my life. Now I'm loaded ‚ so come on, shoot me if you dare to, the experiment is for free. I know the image has a crypted side to it. For I have repeatedly admired the unavoidable pre-roll loop. Scraping gently at the screen to impose colors of a quite different nature. There is a cello frequencing in my guts. Carry the bow between my legs. Skipping at every twenty-second bar. Brainwave pattern altered. Again a moonlight serenade. Effectuated by the spirits of The Score. Complexity triggered by EgoSolutions and the urge to belong in this videogame installed upon us. We'll all meet in the Die-In Restaurant anyway, so why bother ejaculating comfortably easy ache. Not worth it. Not worthy at all. On top of all this; not even worthless.Still, I can use it, worthless or not. Know the feeling of it? Buying his old clothes. Doing the Guilt Game. Who do you think they are? Who blames whom? Locked you up, you say? Who did? Do you not possess the key yourself? Did you not come voluntarily? Nights. Nights, I wanted to sleep. Nights, I wanted just everything. Nights, colors turning against me, shattering me, making me feel alive, kind and evil at the same time. Nights, wanting to see, but fearing opening my eyes. False, was it? Maybe. Did I reach out for you? No. Did I leave you? No. Was I frightening then? Suppose so. Sensitive above any scale you were. I didn't say "believe me, it's true". Like always, words blocked by the feeling of importance. A whole world throwing chances and dangers at you. Shaking the foundations of belonging to the same little town all the time. The gypsy inside press charges, want out, around, and you meet on the halfway. Agree on a basic pattern of movements. From this town to that. From this stage to that. From this audience and bed to others. Awake, find you're among the initiates. Decipher the coded messages of mutual respect, trust, reality, excitement. But still with a million friends and contacts spread around the globe, you stand alone. You are the one who over and over again says "sorry, gotta go now". I think of the dreams and desperation of your predecessors. Young at heart you should memorize your communicative aura in the xerox-files. Be allowed to sleep and shine before returning to urbanity. "If we miss. We hit another target." Energy accumulation and new assets. No phony delusion in the chromaterial world. "If we lose. We win the defeat". The moonlight turns towards shades of grey. You remember the best idea of the year (Bigger. Brighter. Better). The Possible Dream leaves the rest with a mountain to climb. Phone rings. You don't move. It's late. It's time for bringing the house down. But the neighborhood was evacuated years ago. But the Sane People and the Heavy-People started moving out even long before that. For a two-year period (and some weeks) you couldn't use your eyes properly and you were captured by The Children of the Dust and were forced to collect and paint spiders red. Only red spiders were nice spiders (in their opinion). Of course they (the spiders) couldn't live for long (wet-red-paint) - lifespan depended on strength of impressions + quantity of acts (they claimed). You escaped The Children of the Dust to arrange texts instead, suggesting that the nation's psyche was in fact dependent on your opinion. Then you understood that the forces of mediocrity and subversity are installed by Nature itself. Not at all dependent on wo-man. Then you decided to follow these rules. The awareness of the Game gave you new perspectives. You became the cultural terrorist. Not leaving peace in peace. The ultimate object for all your projects and concepts turned out to be self-explanatory. You dressed up, sexy agent in difficult matters, then you went out in the streets looking for action, finding it, watching it. Then you smoked, snorted, drank until Sister Doubt assassinated you with rays of extreme comfort and pleasure. You emptied her, and by that time it was too late for other than RESURRECTION. Time, it went even further. Punk up the conception // the prophecy were about to be fulfilled by derivations and prejudice neglected by absolutions. Arrogance attracted to your body. Fear of being an innocent attaché of LUNAcy. Misachievements. Distortions causing pain and stupid solutions. You reached that point when you had foreseen too much. Future already lived. Pissed and Passed. You wanted more time, not a hard time. You mistook me for somebody else. All correct - I lived with that through all of your life. You brought up my demons. I cashed them in, exchanged demons for diamonds, actually nailed my demons to the wall (after framing them behind glasses), sold them as objects of Art. What a fake life. All hype. Gunmen, armed with fog-horns instead of weapons, shouted to me: "There isn't any Justice! You can't build any systems without compromising the Nature!" And: "All that is Gold doesn't Glisten!" - Headspinningly, like a timeless spirit imprisoned in(side) an aging body, I tried to participate in the Social Drama. I bought me my own brainwashing machine. I was nothing but a crispy biscuit. But. I-was-Never-Singing-In the Rain. Although, in secrecy, I spat at the Sun as well. Then I decided to fuck up my own decisions. Took the first train out of your bed. Messed everything up so thoroughly that complete annihilation was the only proper sentence for the crimes I pulled. Dirty-three years of doing the dishes. You're absolutely not paranoid when they're out to get you for real. Pin you down on your own weaknesses. It's my fault that it's their fault. Even when abused you're guilty, as you didn't kill the abusers. I know this and shut up. Nothing to gain, plenty to lose. Be bop a lula or be it whatever. Blood calm down, you're starting a fire. You arrive in good condition, undamaged. You're feeling loud and sexy. How come? Do not be angry at the sun. He could burn you, you know. And do not yell at the moon. She never did you any harm. You are para-cycling through the eye of a needle. You overcome obstacles, choose new identities, take great care to understand my aims, the whole week through, whether it is Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday or not, same routine, over and all over again, trying to tape the voice of "it" - the exact art of being. Is white good, black bad? Doo wop? Purify my soul, next to rotting I hate heat. I'm overrated, not at all eye-gratifying, but listen, I wanna know; what degree of risk are you willing to accept? Maybe any. Just as long as it doesn't hurt the thousands close to me. Stumble back from a trip in the real world. Make a decision to blow some fuses. Fill your head, a point of chemicals caressing your urge to crush your constructions. You drop a two millimeter square of paper. Fall in love with the nothingness of peace. "He who travels and never returns." Your closest horniest friend tells you to calm down, chill out, but you you're burning. Fiery heart. Gold. Alchemy. You know you'll choke on the sharp visions you've had lately. You seek comfort in the smallest attractions. A blink of the third eye. You reveal even the most hidden systems and patterns. Then you follow them. Breaking the rules only when learning about them. Basic instincts of possibility. Tales untold again. Mumbled in anagrams into dead ears. This game of yours changes rules constantly. The moment I got the grip on the first set of rules, they were withdrawn. Another vacuum and a new setting. Another new period of learning: Climbing up just to fall down to climb up to fall down. We dance, weak-willed, to no-rhythms; raped by machines, fleshpots, flesh meets flesh, we kneel and salute the accomplished emptiness. Prophecies? Not needed. Trance. DisDance is finished. Completed, though it's barely begun for the load of us. That's exactly what makes me want to stay. Some miracle could very well happen. It sometimes do, you know, even though I have my doubts. The bunch of drugged robots, strobezombies, could for instance break out of the militant rhythm & discipline and burst into a real chaotic gang-bang. Would love to see (make) that happen, now wouldn't I? Yes I would, but so little sex-appeal among the initiates (inmates). I'd rather get a glimpse of an ass and a back pumping away in the park, but that's not a miracle, unless it's you and me laying there (and then I mean you who don't read this). Anyway, beauty and magic is a matter of definition and comparison - No given rules or regulations 'but the subjective matter of choice. This text is talking about itself. Caught in a no-space-page-cage. This text has no author and is madgone totally. This text is trying to hide something, protects something unknown. An extermination of Meaning? Wordcakes splashed in faces of ghosts. This text kills itself. Soon. Or later. Professor Pro has squatted my mind. He tells me what to write. I obey. The day of can't-catch-more-sense has arrived. I must inform about all those dangerous mudinhalers; about their threatening non-existence. It's such a must. (Ratify patterns. Go clear. Unmask me. Pray for a good play. To continue. What goes on goes on and on). Somebody, or something, sucked me completely dry. I slipped out of the row. Had a jaunt into my horizontal abyss, looking for a missing heart: - Professor Pro, don't you lie to me! (Who's Who? Where is I? Are I on top of needles, counting angels? Am I Visual Rage? Is I's echoes of common-soul? Do you belong to You? Or to I? Is I? Were I? Will you give me the I if I marry an insect? Reality slaughters I's: Dumbfounded Eye turn my blank back on I.) Text can't be controlled. (I slept inside an old harmonica. Freebaggin' across oceans of violet notes. Waking up in intervals corresponding with in- and out-breaths.) Adulthood for sure is a promising letdown: Soul like a pterodactyl covering the sunbeams of youth. Wrinkles and physical diseases tear down not just the body; spirituality and mind are attacked too - physical wrinkles + general degeneration of thought and impressions. (Why were werewolves woofing and weeping while I painted my inner spider red?) Hang me in a cowbell. Fly me to a hairport. Meet me at the corner of my I. (You serious joker, don't seek too far beyond the "facts".) - Clerks, looking like shampoo-commercials, dressed in invisible clothes, stand patiently at your service; ready to hand you the Towel of Babylon - is it big enough to dry out blood, vomit, urine, diarrhea and tears? - Shut up and inhale. Bob NoHope has been hanging around on your turf lately. S/he's the strongest. We're stronger than hir.The almost erotic attraction towards killing the delicious animals of BrainDeath with your own hands gives you a strong feeling of guilt. And they suffer. They are the weakest. We are weaker than them. If the two of us make up the Word, will they read us? If we make up the Absurd, will they feed us? For the purpose of their second coming, we have to pave the way on RotorWay One. It's all about space-time relationships. Aging; a decade of style going kitsch? A centennial of denial? A millennium of deceit? Their story reveals itself. Bob NoHope paves the way for Professor Pro. The same old pattern; times of territorial and trivial terrors demand that the people raise their voices for a strong, effective leader. And we should know now that the MacroImage and the MicroImage are interchangeable when it comes to the Total Rate. Every move is regulated by this law. But still, MicroMan strikes against the Giant Universal Forces (GUF). They don't recognize the weak ends of their own (and everyone's) consciousness. Will they/we ever know? We, who demand a revelation? We, the bizarre thinkers, who shoot oracles, hunt down wise words, construct new fashions for spiritual dwarves, swim around like cultural cannibals in the leftovers from the Pinheads' Party... Style the world, huh? Let's have a congress again, on top of a dull, great, ordinary bomb, before GUF strikes back (like a thief in the night) and Wins Big. We are I, and I need to find friendly faces, spellbinding events. I need to re-learn; learn to see again, learn to feel, listen, stay, read, walk - learn to be me; MicroMan, with and without comparisons. If every creature on earth in the same moment decided to jump into an ocean, what would then become of our Armada: Friend-Ship, Relation-Ship, Wor-Ship? (Or, the Fear of Fears; if Big Fish and Ships?!) Ocean inside our brains, so sensible of (about?) waves and tides; Brainwater - it is the Devil's Drug: Thoughts. So surrounding this BrainMilk mess - you'll find the DeMan Mass. Protecting and feeding the arrogance and inconsequences of MicroMan. Seeds put in human soil by the Intelligence Agency of GUF. It's a war for the Street People, the Children of the Dust. Newly published, you'll find the "How To Blow Up Anything In Ten Easy Lessons" cultural assassin's manual. Made available under the threat of the Social Democratic Fatwa by The Word-Pushers Conspiracy Internationale. So splintered by choices and approaches that your Ego dissolves into organizations. Your dangerous pride collides with your pre-ejaculated social -ism. Truth is something you can't point out, order is divine, and you can't escape any of the two terms. I & I sit down and wait for them to come for us. Armed with the Knife of Naïveté in one hand and my dick in the other. Only thing they can't ignore. Keywords for the nineties, for the entities; hard juicy mutual sex performed with a devoted smile will make them twirl and crawl, visualized or fantasized. Up there at GUF headquarters, where the loyal non-tax-payers of control and double morality rule, to watch (or allow anyone else to watch) a couple of good friends play around with their bodies is judged by and limited to those few that can afford to attend. This and sort out directions from chaos. To pack a bag is one thing. To have stolen or "borrowed" the key without telling anyone generates a feeling of leaving school before the end of the day. A beautiful ball of (not guilt) but falling. Sorry, gotta go now. Reports will be given from the GeoGiant... Watch him belly-dancing across the street, interrupting busy men while they're doing important wireless phone calls to his nervous system. They start rotating. Fall out of line. He, the Giant, circulates silently among monsters. Telephotographs persons in corners, situations, thoughts. It turns out to be the same energetic mass of clever confusion. You lose concentration; outdoor activities versus spiritual philately. But when God-knows-Who arrives with his geocentric legion to instigate the battle, your friends - the rational gentlemen - start drawing their crisscrosses above our heads. Invisible ceiling, you see. Lay out the options. Count them twice and come up with the total amount of two. Then wait patiently for the bearer of the third (eye). Reschedule your ambitions. Aim at four weeks in the wilderness. You stay there accompanied only by an old bunch of art papers. That smell of their years in a concrete basement. Captivity. Blood allowed to rush when you register.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/6049.txt

T.H.Boe and Guttorm Nordø

Damage Control

...and I presume it was the exact point of turning that surprised me...the sudden drop... splash of well-tempered wine...the slash of the wrist and the way to innocence and then, nothing to remember but the only memory; quiet, quite quiet, quiet, in fact, stone dead; stones crying for resurrection, me standing somewhere near with my madrigal, silenced, preparing a loop of some exquisite dreamaterial, dusty winds that erode the mountains of torment / the piles of trash to be published. To stand up straight, blood rushing at the maximum speed of two inches per second. Minimizes the efforts to combine the (brainmilk) with the (seed) thus leaving the (dreamproject) open for misinterpretations. Somebody waiting for signals. Has been waiting for 4 years. Still without leaving the stage. Anyway, the ladder was cut to pieces before the carpenter even thought of making it. That's just how dreams function. In another dim light climbing up and clinging to pure air can be seen as the greatest of all arts. To draw rune-like figures and sketch up usable frames in black xylene-free permanent ink on the vast canvas of transparent oxygen is one thing. Shuffling them around and make them fit reality another and much more heroic act of absurdity than any turkey on a three-wheel bike would care to consider as something worth making noise about: His art is of a heterodox kind, like a lay figure laid out in front of his vehicle, not noticed, driven by and over. Not like Jørn's huge ceramic relief made with a Vespa scooter. Not like any art, not like anything, even not like absurdity. Concrete turkey loves to be driven - doesn't seem to avoid any means to an end, reflected upon particularly by gay nigger-loving neo-Nazis throwing ethnic bombs in the mix, capture the word and world in Japanese machines labeled as soul-rewarding, fuck these acts of random terror the straight zool with pierced asshole said dancing on officially sponsored acres of nuclear power plants and other chemicals. Did anybody hear me, when I shattered the plexiglass frequency console, did you know that (------) pierce your own brain dreadlock-Hitler (------) shove it up your (------) and descend to a cave far beyond Hell: Fall down stairs head first, pass 1 1/2 billion steps, count them backwards (if you're not strangled by your evil shoelaces) ‚ shove it up shove it down, your madness is too personal. While you're down there bring my greetings to the owner or inventor of this huge garbage heap called World. There's a Word War going on but I refuse to talk. Make your next move from a position underneath the Synthetic Cow pissing BrainMilk BrainMilk RainMilk PainMilk VainMilk GainMilk KainMilk InsaneMilk. And punch-drunk on the mentioned BrainMilk, you slowly move into the woods on a rainy foggy night, to experience the three-dee polaroid painting taking your breath away, and she enters... Dusk dripping from the leaves above her, soft shivering slowly escaping restraint tuning into the pulse, the sensuality of being allowed to caress her body half naked totally vulnerable but too filled with strength to be noted as fragile, caress the monastery tickling with wet grass and warm pebbles, never to return in the same state as escaping, having an orgasm free of sex but arousing and evoking pregnancy deep within... Maybe to waste some more words on this incident would be naïve, but not to would be an offense... And after the magic the melancholy, the bitterness and anxiety connected to taking the consequences of leaving this ThoughtTrain always in motion. Acts undone. Sights unseen. The GoGetters are in a state of constant hunger; in-between minds and lines. Above our heads, the Controller, the ruler of knots'n'knobs and everything and drunken dreams: Intricate Cat Acts, sudden Simplicities, conscious beyond considerations: ExtraTerrestrials, we're ready for leaving home! But She, the DuskDripping One, who'd never believed in UFOs, she's the one who was picked up. Snorted by the Prime Nostrils of Clarity. The goal of leaving home is quite difficult to reach. When; a) you do not have one, or; b) you carry your castle in your heart. In order to leave you either have to find some substitute to leave or (again) perform some kind of self-surgery. A bloody mess if you ask me, but you don't. Way out (of line again)...the same words. Neglected by self-restraint. Don't blame The Control on The Controller, the ThoughtTrain is that of Choice, the Snake and the Apple are present in your solar plexus gallery... Starting or ending, I don't know, I keep on crawling inside your mind, sorting out memories of apples: The fresh ones, the rotten ones, the red, green, poisoned ones ‚ eyeapples, soft, like glass melting in front of your view. Matterless stonetouch: Me the Snake within You Apple: Raise your eyes, look up inside your skull, see the universe you're creating, holding up. Atlas-Apple, you're the pepper of Cosmos. Your mind's map equals the Sum Incognito. You're the source of all existence, and you're me (no way to avoid such perceptions): I am You, You are Me, We are Us. We control lives and deaths. We come, see and go. From nowhere to everywhere, from everywhere to nowhere. If we knew knowwhere, we wouldn't have been here. Lift the starknife and prepare for the cosmic dissection. Prove that the influence of the full moon has nothing to do with your horribly restless sleep. Merry-go-round of memories. Hair growing on the Inside. Making your mind and heart more and more masculine. Women have their model/matrix from the moon, and we're burning like isolated suns. The moon; the friend of travelling kind. Constant alchemy and metamorphosis. „Lux. Luna. Mater." The reflections in which you place your self in the midst, the bliss of some worldly sights of hypervisual voices (from where?), giving you strange but shiny messages, truth-alike in a non-explaining manner; freezing your attention ‚ quite quiet ‚ you can't just shut your ears ‚ the voice comes into your head through other perceiving channels. Electrified you wake up and wake up and wake up to find yourself sleeping, waving flags, signaling a long-awaited homecoming. A rehydration of instinct. Role-model aware of implants. Digital consumption of the extreme mescal experience. All pieces become icons. Your heart is just a biomechanical motor. Your soul in bloom. No connection what-so-ever between the connected and the connector. Power of some other drug than the usual. Drop it, forget speech, another culture as well ‚ rooted in your collective assembly of InPut and Deterioration. Confused now by these KnowNots 'n' Knobs. Faint manitu. Your light's blinding me. Paint my eyes white open. I've tasted my mind; oh, what you don't hide! 700 dimensions, each with 700 exits. Holy wood inside of me. BigBudgets floating by, presenting anti-stories and boring stardom. And all the independents working on different locations behind my forehead. Layers, layers. I used to wish that I was alive. and well. But ever since I met Mr. Mesc I've been collecting, putting the pieces of past and presence together. A Giga-puzzle. I saw too much. Fell too fast. Came to Dashville, ended up being a hitmaker, hitting hard, breaking, recording damages so unbelievable that in a very short time I was awarded with a blow-up for two to Atmo, that stretched and fascinating island up in the spheres. Mr. Mesc, you tricked me into meeting you, into admitting that I was a worthless creep. Before our crash-meeting I just believed in superiority. Hard to explain. Hard to maintain. But naïveté saved my life. Now I'm loaded ‚ so come on, shoot me if you dare to, the experiment is for free. I know the image has a crypted side to it. For I have repeatedly admired the unavoidable pre-roll loop. Scraping gently at the screen to impose colors of a quite different nature. There is a cello frequencing in my guts. Carry the bow between my legs. Skipping at every twenty-second bar. Brainwave pattern altered. Again a moonlight serenade. Effectuated by the spirits of The Score. Complexity triggered by EgoSolutions and the urge to belong in this videogame installed upon us. We'll all meet in the Die-In Restaurant anyway, so why bother ejaculating comfortly easy ache. Not worth it. Not worthy at all. On top of all this; not even worthless.Still, I can use it, worthless or not. Know the feeling of it? Buying his old clothes. Doing the Guilt Game. Who do you think they are? Who blames who? Locked you up, you say? Who did? Do you not possess the key yourself? Did you not come voluntarily? Nights. Nights, I wanted to sleep. Nights, I wanted just everything. Nights, colors turning against me, shattering me, making me feel alive, kind and evil at the same time. Nights, wanting to see, but fearing opening my eyes. False, was it? Maybe. Did I reach out for you? No. Did I leave you? No. Was I frightening then? Suppose so. Sensitive above any scale you were. I didn't say "believe me, it's true". Like always, words blocked by the feeling of importance. A whole world throwing chances and dangers at you. Shaking the foundations of belonging to the same little town all the time. The gypsy inside press charges, want out, around, and you meet on the halfway. Agree on a basic pattern of movements. From this town to that. From this stage to that. From this audience and bed to others. Awake, find you're among the initiates. Decipher the coded messages of mutual respect, trust, reality, excitement. But still with a million friends and contacts spread around the globe, you stand alone. You are the one who over and over again says "sorry, gotta go now". I think of the dreams and desperation of your predecessors. Young at heart you should memorize your communicative aura in the xerox-files. Be allowed to sleep and shine before returning to urbanity. "If we miss. We hit another target." Energy accumulation and new assets. No phony delusion in the chromaterial world. "If we lose. We win the defeat". The moonlight turns towards shades of grey. You remember the best idea of the year (Bigger. Brighter. Better). The Possible Dream leaves the rest with a mountain to climb. Phone rings. You don't move. It's late. It's time for bringing the house down. But the neighborhood was evacuated years ago. But the Sane People and the Heavy-People started moving out even long before that. For a two-year period (and some weeks) you couldn't use your eyes properly and you were captured by The Children of the Dust and were forced to collect and paint spiders red. Only red spiders were nice spiders (in their opinion). Of course they (the spiders) couldn't live for long (wet-red-paint) - lifelength depended on strength of impressions + quantity of acts (they claimed). You escaped The Children of the Dust to arrange texts instead, suggesting that the nation's psyche was in fact dependent on your opinion. Then you understood that the forces of mediocrity and subversity are installed by Nature itself. Not at all dependent on wo-man. Then you decided to follow these rules. The awareness of the Game gave you new perspectives. You became the cultural terrorist. Not leaving peace in peace. The ultimate object for all your projects and concepts turned out to be self-explanatory. You dressed up, sexy agent in difficult matters, then you went out in the streets looking for action, finding it, watching it. Then you smoked, snorted, drank until Sister Doubt assassinated you with rays of extreme comfort and pleasure. You emptied her, and by that time it was too late for other than RESURRECTION. Time, it went even further. Punk up the conception // the prophecy were about to be fulfilled by derivations and prejudice neglected by absolutions. Arrogance attracted to your body. Fear of being an innocent attaché of LUNAcy. Misachievements. Distortions causing pain and stupid solutions. You reached that point when you had foreseen too much. Future already lived. Pissed and Passed. You wanted more time, not a hard time. You mistook me for somebody else. All correct - I lived with that through all of your life. You brought up my demons. I cashed them in, exchanged demons for diamonds, actually nailed my demons to the wall (after framing them behind glasses), sold them as objects of Art. What a fake life. All hype. Gunmen, armed with fog-horns instead of weapons, shouted to me: "There isn't any Justice! You can't build any systems without compromising the Nature!" And: "All that is Gold doesn't Glisten!" - Headspinningly, like a timeless spirit imprisoned in(side) an aging body, I tried to participate in the Social Drama. I bought me my own brainwashingmachine. I was nothing but a crispy biscuit. But. I-was-Never-Singing-In the Rain. Although, in secrecy, I spat at the Sun as well. Then I decided to fuck up my own decisions. Took the first train out of your bed. Messed everything up so thoroughly that complete annihilation was the only proper sentence for the crimes I pulled. Dirty-three years of doing the dishes. You're absolutely not paranoid when they're out to get you for real. Pin you down on your own weaknesses. It's my fault that it's their fault. Even when abused you're guilty, as you didn't kill the abusers. I know this and shut up. Nothing to gain, plenty to lose. Be bop a lula or be it whatever. Blood calm down, you're starting a fire. You arrive in good condition, undamaged. You're feeling loud and sexy. How come? Do not be angry at the sun. He could burn you, you know. And do not yell at the moon. She never did you any harm. You are para-cycling through the eye of a needle. You overcome obstacles, choose new identities, take great care to understand my aims, the whole week through, whether it is Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday or not, same routine, over and all over again, trying to tape the voice of "it" - the exact art of being. Is white good, black bad? Do you wop? Purify my soul, next to rotting I hate heat. I'm overrated, not at all eye-gratifying, but listen, I wanna know; what degree of risk are you willing to accept? Maybe any. Just as long as it doesn't hurt the thousands close to me. Stumble back from a trip in the real world. Make a decision to blow some fuses. Fill your head, a point of chemicals caressing your urge to crush your constructions. You drop a two millimeter square of paper. Fall in love with the nothingness of peace. "He who travels and never returns." Your closest horniest friend tells you to calm down, chill out, but you you're burning. Fiery heart. Gold. Alchemy. You know you'll choke on the sharp visions you've had lately. You seek comfort in the smallest attractions. A blink of the third eye. You reveal even the most hidden systems and patterns. Then you follow them. Breaking the rules only when learning about them. Basic instincts of possibility. Tales untold again. Mumbled in anagrams into dead ears. This game of yours changes rules constantly. The moment I got the grip on the first set of rules, they were withdrawn. Another vacuum and a new setting. Another new period of learning: Climbing up just to fall down to climb up to fall down. We dance, weak-willed, to no-rhythms; raped by machines, fleshpots, flesh meets flesh, we kneel and salute the accomplished emptiness. Prophecies? Not needed. Trance. DisDance is finished. Completed, though it's barely begun for the load of us. That's exactly what makes me want to stay. Some miracle could very well happen. It sometimes do, you know, even though I have my doubts. The bunch of drugged robots, strobezombies, could for instance break out of the militant rhythm & discipline and burst into a real chaotic gang-bang. Would love to see (make) that happen, now wouldn't I? Yes I would, but so little sex-appeal among the initiates (inmates). I'd rather get a glimpse of an ass and a back pumping away in the park, but that's not a miracle, unless it's you and me laying there (and then I mean you who don't read this). Anyway, beauty and magic is a matter of definition and comparison - No given rules or regulations 'but the subjective matter of choice. This text is talking about itself. Caught in a no-space-page-cage. This text has no author and is madgone totally. This text is trying to hide something, protects something unknown. An extermination of Meaning? Wordcakes splashed in faces of ghosts. This text kills itself. Soon. Or later. Professor Pro has squatted my mind. He tells me what to write. I obey. The day of can't-catch-more-sense has arrived. I must inform about all those dangerous mudinhalers; about their threatening non-existence. It's such a must. (Ratify patterns. Go clear. Unmask me. Pray for a good play. To continue. What goes on goes on and on). Somebody, or something, sucked me completely dry. I slipped out of the row. Had a jaunt into my horizontal abyss, looking for a missing heart: - Professor Pro, don't you lie to me! (Who's Who? Where is I? Are I on top of needles, counting angels? Am I Visual Rage? Is I's echoes of common-soul? Do you belong to You? Or to I? Is I? Were I? Will you give me the I if I marry an insect? Reality slaughters I's: Dumbfounded Eye turn my blank back on I.) Text can't be controlled. (I slept inside an old harmonica. Freebaggin' across oceans of violet notes. Waking up in intervals corresponding with in- and out-breaths.) Adulthood for sure is a promising letdown: Soul like a pterodactyl covering the sunbeams of youth. Wrinkles and physical diseases tear down not just the body; spirituality and mind are attacked too - physical wrinkles + general degeneration of thought and impressions. (Why were werewolves woofing and weeping while I painted my inner spider red?) Hang me in a cowbell. Fly me to a hairport. Meet me at the corner of my I. (You serious joker, don't seek to far beyond the "facts".) - Clerks, looking like shampoo-commercials, dressed in invisible clothes, stand patiently at your service; ready to hand you the Towel of Babylon - is it big enough to dry out blood, vomit, urine, diarrhea and tears? - Shut up and inhale. Bob NoHope has been hanging around on your turf lately. S/he's the strongest. We're stronger than hir.The almost erotic attraction towards killing the delicious animals of BrainDeath with your own hands gives you a strong feeling of guilt. And they suffer. They are the weakest. We are weaker than them. If the two of us make up the Word, will they read us? If we make up the Absurd, will they feed us? For the purpose of their second coming, we have to pave the way on RotorWay One. It's all about space-time relationships. Aging; a decade of style going kitsch? A centennial of denial? A millennium of deceit? Their story reveals itself. Bob NoHope paves the way for Professor Pro. The same old pattern; times of territorial and trivial terrors demand that the people raise their voices for a strong, effective leader. And we should know now that the macro-image and the micro-image are interchangeable when it comes to the total rate. Every move is regulated by this law. But still, the micro-man strikes against the giant universal forces (GUF). They don't recognize the weak ends of their own (and every man's) consciousness. Will they/we ever know? We, who demand a revelation? We, the bizarre thinkers, who shoot oracles, hunt down wise words, construct new fashions for spiritual dwarves, swim around like cultural cannibals in the leftovers from the Pinheads' Party... Style the world, huh? Let's have a congress again, on top of a dull, great, ordinary bomb, before GUF strikes back (like a thief in the night) and wins big. We are I, and I need to find friendly faces, spellbinding events. I need to re-learn; learn to see again, learn to feel, listen, stay, read, walk - learn to be me; micro-man, with and without comparisons. If every creature on earth in the same moment decided to jump into an ocean, what would then become of our Armada: Friend-Ship, Relation-Ship, Wor-Ship? (Or, the fear of fears; if big fish and ships?!) Ocean inside our brains, so sensible of (about?) waves and tides; brain-water - it is the devil's drug: thoughts. So surrounding this brain-milk mess - you'll find the de-man mass. Protecting and feeding the arrogance and inconsequences of micro-man. Seeds put in human soil by the intelligence agency of GUF. It's a war for the street people, the children of the dust. Newly published, you'll find the "How To Blow Up Anything In Ten Easy Lessons" cultural assassin's manual. Made available under the threat of the social democratic fatwa by The Word-Pushers Conspiracy Internationale. So splintered by choices and approaches that your ego dissolves into organizations. Your dangerous pride collides with your pre-ejaculated social -ism. Truth is something you can't point out, order is divine, and you can't escape any of the two terms. I & I sit down and wait for them to come for us. Armed with the knife of naivety in one hand and my dick in the other. Only thing they can't ignore. Keywords for the nineties, for the entities; hard, juicy mutual sex performed with a devoted smile will make them twirl and crawl, visualized or fantasized. Up there at GUF headquarters, where the loyal non-tax-payers of control and double morality rule, to watch (or allow anyone else to watch) a couple of good friends play around with their bodies is judged by and limited to those few that can afford to attend. This and sort out directions from chaos. To pack a bag is one thing. To have stolen or "borrowed" the key without telling anyone generates a feeling of leaving school before the end of the day. A beautiful ball of (not guilt) but falling. Sorry, gotta go now. Reports will be given from the GeoGiant... Watch him belly-dancing across the street, interrupting busy men while they're doing important wireless phone calls to his nervous system. They start rotating. Fall out of line. He, the Giant, circulates silently among monsters. Telephotographs persons in corners, situations, thoughts. It turns out to be the same energetic mass of clever confusion. You lose concentration; outdoor activities versus spiritual philately. But when God-knows-Who arrives with his geocentric legion to instigate the battle, your friends - the rational gentlemen - start drawing their crisscrosses above our heads. Invisible ceiling, you see. Lay out the options. Count them twice and come up with the total amount of two. Then wait patiently for the bearer of the third (eye). Reschedule your ambitions. Aim at four weeks in the wilderness. You stay there accompanied only by an old bunch of art papers. That smell of their years in a concrete basement. Captivity. Blood allowed to rush when you register.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/6049.txt

Peter Anselmo

Magda

...to express something to me. She said she had shopping to do, maybe two or three hours of it, and then she'd return. After she left, I went to the window and I watched the street as best as I could to see her come out the front entrance. She came out with the doorman beside her, and then he stepped out into the street to wave down a taxi for her. He held the door as she climbed into the cab, and then she was gone, the taxi heading south. After that, I returned to my chair in the living room to finish reading the newspaper. But soon I had to put the newspaper down because I had no further interest in it. It's always like that when she leaves me alone. I can't seem to concentrate on anything when she's gone, and of course when she's with me again, my mind is completely occupied with her, and what we say to each other, and what we do together, and so on. I sat in the chair for about an hour. I had the television on, but I paid hardly any attention to it. I like this East Side apartment better than her old West Side apartment or my own apartment in the Village. For one thing, the building service is much better and the street in front of the entrance is always clean. I don't go out of the apartment that much, but when I do go out with Magda, it's more pleasant to have a clean sidewalk in front of the building. My physical condition continues to slowly deteriorate, but I have the impression now that it's leveling off. Magda says the weakness won't persist, and that it's merely a matter of my body making an adjustment to things. Since it's almost three months that we've been together now, I suppose the idea that a plateau has been reached might be accurate. In any case, she continues to drain me two or three times a day, depending on her mood and on her assessment of my physical condition. She does her best to keep me primed, of course, and that part of it is always exciting. The most extraordinary thing is that it's never possible to predict her behavior in advance, predict what she'll do or what she won't do...She was standing at the full-length mirror, kissing her image. This time she was naked, evidently just out of her bath, her body still damp and parts of the mirror steaming with moisture. As she kissed her image, she extended her tongue, and for a second or two her tongue appeared to be doubled, neatly forked down the center, the two points fluttering against the glass to meet the other two points, the ensemble like four wriggling serpents dueling with each other. Then one of her hands moved between her belly and the mirror, and she began rubbing herself, masturbating as she kissed the image of her lips. This excited me greatly. I'd seen her touch herself before, but I'd never watched her masturbate to an orgasm, and I was hoping she would do it now so I could see it. The rubbing of her cunt continued, her belly moving back and forth against the mirror as she kissed her image. Then, after a while, she slid her free hand around behind herself and between her buttocks, and in a moment it was clear she had a finger in her anus while the other hand continued rubbing her sex. This went on for about a minute, and then finally her body twitched out of control and she flattened herself against the mirror, made a horrible noise in her throat, and then opened her mouth to spew a black liquid against the glass. The next moment she turned, the black liquid smeared over her face, and she seemed to look directly at me. I immediately moved backward into the darkness of my room and I climbed into bed again. An instant later, the door connecting our rooms slammed shut and I heard the clicking sound that meant Magda had locked it. I lay there in the dark, thinking about what I'd seen, wondering if she'd actually noticed me watching her. Would she finally come into the room and express her anger? But nothing happened. After twenty minutes or so, I switched on the light and I rose up to get dressed. We went out to dinner to a place we'd visited before, and nothing unusual happened. But after dinner, when we arrived home, Magda seemed more irritable than usual, and it occurred to me it might be because of what had happened earlier. I'd had only one emission during the day, and now she decided it was time for another. She told me to unzip my fly and bring my penis out, and after I did that, she told me to masturbate. "Make yourself hard," she said. "I'd rather you worked at it yourself." She watched me do it awhile, watched me stroke my penis with my hand as I stood on the carpet near her, and then she leaned back in the chair and pulled at her dress to uncover her thighs. She opened her legs to show me her crotch, but she was wearing pantyhose and I couldn't see too much. As if reading my mind, she said: "It's enough for you. I'm not undressing yet, so this is all you're seeing of my cunt." It made no difference, because I had no trouble keeping the erection and bringing myself to the point when I could tell her I was about to come so she could take the emission in her mouth. But this time something unexpected happened. When I felt myself getting close, I slowed down the stroking with my fingers, but somehow it didn't work, and I started coming. Two huge spurts came out and landed very close to Magda on the leather sofa where she was sitting. She stared at me in disbelief. I tried holding back the rest of it, but all I could manage to do was to have it gushing out over my hand. She rose up screaming at me. "You stupid fool, I was counting on it!" She came at me like a tigress, forced me down on the carpet and took my wilting penis in her mouth to suck out whatever she could. Then she licked my hand, cleaning it of the sperm that covered it. When she finished that, she remembered the sofa and she crawled to it over the carpet, reached it and started licking the sperm off the leather. Then she licked her fingers clean, and when she looked at me, I saw the anger in her eyes. "I think you did that deliberately." "No, it's not true." "You were spying on me before in my bedroom." "Please, Magda..." "Don't worry, you'll pay for everything..."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/12247.txt

Jake Struthers

Her curly long red hair...

...flowed over a pair of knockout sweet young breasts as she sat there on the bed. I only talked to her once on the phone after checking out her photo on the web page, but geeeezzzz, I really had no idea! She looked over to the guy on the chair beside the bed, "Don't mind him, my husband only likes to watch." "Go ahead, you can have her, she's all yours," he said with a warm friendly smile. She then looked up at me with a coy grin on her fresh young face. She parted her perfect legs only slightly, but enough to expose a flame red patch. I moved forward almost intoxicated with her slightly freckled, cream white skin, and her swollen lips and a pair of innocent eyes you could stare into all day long. She then sat up attentively and started unbuckling the belt of my pants... To feel her turned-up nose nuzzling up to my pubic hairs as her lips wrapped wantingly to the hilt of my shaft. And that gorgeous red hair tumbling over my balls... all of this was far too much... I tried to warn her but she reached around to grab my butt and pulled me in tighter. I had no other choice than to shoot the largest load ever, deeply between the lips of her eager mouth, over the length of her luxuriously seeking tongue. She removed my still hard cock, admired it, rubbed it over her sweet little face, looked up at me and said, "Would you like a drink or something and we'll do that again?" I looked over to her husband, who I happened to notice was just finishing himself up. He stood and took three steps toward the bed. (I could tell they had done this before.) She quickly moved to take his prick in her freshly lubricated mouth just at the right time. Bam! I never saw another man come like that before. She held his balls with both hands just to stay close, as he pumped her cheeks full of cum that soon came dripping down her chin and onto the long rippling waves of red hair which was now hanging down in drapes between his quivering thighs. He withdrew, but then he kept gushing all over her forehead and into her brilliant locks on both sides of her smiling face. As she lay back on the bed, for the first time I saw how firm and large her breasts were. Now beaded with fresh sperm, each adorned by a silver dollar-sized, pink and puckered nipple. She laughed and said, "Whew, I need to take a short shower after that one." She pranced off to the bathroom grabbing some little slinky thing on the way. Still recovering, falling back into the chair by the bed, her husband looked over to me and smiled, saying, "I knew you would like her." YES THIS REALLY HAPPENED TO ME AND I'LL REMEMBER IT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, and it was easy! Believe it or not, it's all up to you! All I had to do was answer a classified ad at this place: http://www.alternativeconnections.com/index.htm?AssociateID=111378 I just had to share this one. Man, trust me, you will not be disappointed! Try to have yourself a good day, I did... yeeee haaaaaaaa! Jake

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/13106.txt

Angela/Kristen/Heather - fff/incest

... all, idiotic things. This was something their mother Angela prided herself on. They were all pretty close-knit in the house, especially when Angela's husband left them alone when Heather was only 17 and Kristen 14. Those were hard times, but they survived together somehow. Now, it's 1992. Heather has just turned 20, and Kristen, of course, turned 17. For Kristen, these are the hardest times when it comes to being a teenager. Questions answered always come from her sister, who works with her mother to make ends meet. So, when she is home, they do talk about the secretive things that sisters discuss. But, nowadays, she finds herself wondering about what to do in life, boys turning to men, and the end of high school impending in just one year. On Friday nights, Kristen was home before the two working ladies arrived at around 7. Heather and her mother worked at a supply company, completing orders for the front store. They liked it there, due to the old man who owned it. They could work very independently, filling orders for the man up front, and that kept him happy. The mutual understanding between Heather and her mother was that at work, they worked. Rarely any mother/daughter banter..that was to be left at home. When they arrived, Kristen was in the kitchen watching HBO. They looked exhausted, but strangely enough, they still retained their beauty that this family's women were so luckily blessed with. Clearly, they all looked like Angela. She was 40 years old, but you could swear she was 30. She possessed blonde hair, which she passed on to her daughters. Many have told her she looks a bit like Susan Sarandon. Angela never really became heavy after having kids, she tried to keep herself in shape for her husband. After he left, it was just a matter of stamina, and she worked out every night. Walking in, Kristen noticed in the back of her mind that her mother was slightly taller than Heather. Kristen always felt good that she was attractive with them, as not to be the black sheep of the family. But she noticed their attractiveness, and thought how hard it must be to stay that way even after a long day at work. Wearily, the two plopped down at the kitchen table. Kristen could see how tired they were. "How was it today?", she asked. Kristen and Heather have been sharing a room all their lives. It was a floral motif, with yellow furniture from their childhood days. They shared a bunk bed, Kristen always residing on the top. Angela had always said they'd move to someplace bigger, but the money situation simply didn't warrant it. Kristen had a realization that her sister was attractive. Not the attractive that they've always expressed when the other did their makeup just right, or one bought a cute outfit. She was looking at her sister's physical being, and found her to be attractive. Her eyes went down the length of Heather's golden hair. How soft it must be, she thought. The sweatshirt, although baggy, hugged Heather's body at the waist. The black spandex created a beautiful silhouette around her buttocks, making it almost perfectly round on each side. Kristen could see her muscles move, whenever Heather would move so slightly. From there, her eyes traced her sister's legs, so slender and so strong under the spandex, right down to her feet. Kristen began to fluster, but could not help becoming aroused. Sexuality was not one of her more important worries, but it had happened once, on a date, when she noticed the boy's penis pushing through his shorts. But this was different. She couldn't look any longer because the embarrassment and the feeling between her legs became unbearable. She hopped down off the bed, and quietly left the room. Heather said nothing, and continued to read. Out in the hallway, she was a mess. Kristen could feel her heart pounding, and her ears ringing. Her breathing was almost hard, as she tried to get the picture of her sister's body out of her mind. This was something they made fun of the women gym teachers for, and she never conceived she would look at another female like that, especially her own sister. This must be wrong, she persistently thought, and she must get rid of this twinging between her legs. She ran to the bathroom across the hall, and flung the door open. Opening the bottom medicine cabinet, she was frantically searching for a douche of any kind. That's when she heard, "Sweetheart, are you okay?" Jumping a bit, she quickly looked up to find her mother in the bathtub, neck high in bubbles. This too, was something she rarely saw, and never under these circumstances. She stuttered, "O..Oh, yeah," half smiling, "just making sure I have deodorant for tomorrow." Angela, pushing her pulled-up hair from her face, sank deeper into her warm bubbles. "Well, if you're going to look, shut the door. It's freezing out there." She then took the Dove bar, and soaped her arm. Kristen's mind whirled. She didn't want to let on something was wrong, this she wanted to keep to herself. To put on a good front, she shut the door, knelt down to look further, but only knocking down things in the cabinet in the process. From her right ear, Kristen heard, "My, you're a wreck. Come here, are you sick?" Obediently, Kristen walked tubside, and sat down on the edge. Angela raised a wet hand from the water, and brushed back her daughter's blonde hair. She asks, "What's wrong. School?" Kristen wanted to run. She noticed her mother's beautiful, yet concerned face, and the soapy bubbles sliding slowly down her neck. She unintentionally memorized the sight of her mother's large breasts, jutting from the bubbles like two round islands. The glistening wetness across her breasts, and the stiffness of her brown nipples only increased Kristen's anxiety. Her eyes quickly, but it felt like a million years, traveled down her mother's body. Kristen did not know what to say, and couldn't. Her mother had caught her looking, and there was no way she could back out. She seemed scared and Angela felt it. She knew her daughter must discover her own sexuality, or she will be vulnerable in a very cruel world. She thought that maybe she can ease Kristen's fears by sharing a common trait, or bond, between women. To show that becoming an adult is okay. Angela then looked at her breasts, and then looked toward Kristen's, outlined by her flowery sweater. She then said "You know, your breasts are the same size when I was your age. As you get older, and have children, they'll get bigger." Kristen, although a bit surprised, felt some tension go away. Her mother had understood her uneasiness, and suddenly she felt safe. Kristen looked down at her own budding chest, pushed out, and said, "Do you think so?" Looking back at her mother's wet breasts, as if it was the right thing to do. To make her point, and not really thinking about it, Angela moved her hand from Kristen's hair, down the neck of her sweater, and cupped Kristen's left breast. Angela said, "Hmm. I think so." Kristen felt a tingle bolt between her legs, but this time closed her eyes. Angela, realizing that maybe touching her own daughter's breast isn't the best thing to do, went to pull her hand off Kristen's young breast, but then could not ignore the itchy sensation developing between her own legs, below the warm water. Angela moved her hand around Kristen's breast, in a massaging motion. Kristen, on another planet, kept her eyes closed while she floated in this new feeling. Angela whispered, "Boys will touch you here, honey. Does it feel good?" Kristen, now sailing with the winds, pushed her mother's hand harder onto her breast. Angela, now knowing she was over the boundaries, did not pull away. She closed her eyes, and deftly felt Kristen's softness under her fingertips. Her legs spread slightly, and felt the warm water caress her as it rushed in. Kristen whispered, "Yes." Kristen found her mother to be even more beautiful than before. From the neck down, Angela's wet skin glistened. Some hair from her bun was wetly strewn about her shoulders. Kristen's eyes looked at her breasts. They were much bigger and fuller than her own. They didn't sag, but seemed heavy due to their largeness. Angela's large, brown areolas centered her stiff nipples. Small bodies of suds slowly drifted down Angela's neck, into the valley between her chest, and down into the water. She silently looked at her daughter's innocent face, waiting for Kristen to touch her. She was almost shaking when she put her hands slowly forward, and sat closer to her mother as her hands made contact. Her palms touched her mother's nipples, as her fingertips felt the soft heaviness at the sides. Her hands became lubricated as she moved them around toward the front of Angela's breasts, supporting their weight, and absorbing their warmth.Kristen studied her own motions, coupled with her movements, with great intensity. Angela watched her daughter's hands massage her wet breasts, and then her daughter's face that was filled with wonderment. She was feeling her mother's fullness for the first time and began to feel from the outside peering in, what it was to be a woman. Kristen began to feel more at ease, while her temperature rose between her legs. By now, her panties were soaked as she had never known them to be. Her thumbs ran back and forth over Angela's nipples, while her palms held the weight of her breasts. She cupped them and came up and around in a heart shape until "I...already finished," Kristen said, a little sad that the moment ended. But she stood to leave. Stopping, she looked at her mother who was still sitting. "Mom...did you feel anything when you touched me?" Angela knew she was in a spot. But her vagina was aching from the experience. All she could say was, "Get going...we'll talk later," hoping to drop the subject. Kristen turned and left the bathroom. Lying looking straight up, Heather knew she was just troubled about something. Probably a guy at school, she thought. "You okay? Want to talk about it?" Heather asked gently. Kristen looked over and smiled slightly. "No...no. Maybe later." Heather knew to lay off. "Okay." She put her hand on Kristen's arm. "I'm here anytime you need me." She then went back to her bed and her reading. Kristen stared at the ceiling. She could not look at Heather the same way. The whole ten seconds Heather stood there, Kristen traced every inch of her body with her new-found awareness. The touch of her hand gave her shivers, and she suddenly began to imagine Heather stripping. Not the way she normally changes clothes, but really stripping, while Kristen watches her from a chair. Then there was their mother, reaching from behind to pull up Kristen's shirt and fondling her naked breasts. As is the reality, Kristen pushed her hands harder on her chest, as Angela began to nuzzle her daughter's neck. Kristen could feel the sensations build as she watches Heather remove her bra like a pro, and she sensually danced around on a stage. That's when she jumped awake to find the room unexplainably dark. She instinctively looked at the clock: 3:45 AM. She had fallen asleep on her bunk. In the darkness, she could hear Heather breathing in her deep sleep.She realized that since maneuvering, she was flipping the waffles with a steel spatula. "Did she...well, it was hot last night." Kristen stammered, to end this dangerous conversation, "Yeah...I couldn't stop sweating." "I don't know. Seemed fine to me. Maybe we should turn the AC up," mentioned Heather. Angela walked across the floor, carrying the two plates, and set them down in front of her daughters. She purposefully bent over slightly, to let the V-neck hang, and see who was to peer down her nightgown. As expected, Kristen did. She watched Angela's breasts wobble a bit in movement, and became flustered. Angela also caught Heather looking in the corner of her eye. Not looking at either, she said, "Probably. I always forget to take care of that when we get home." She then sat back in an adjoining wooden chair, next to Heather. Heather began to dig in, as well did Kristen, but slower to look up periodically at her peering mother. It was silent for a second, except for the sounds of food crunching, and the clanking of silverware. Then Angela turned to Heather, "What's on the agenda for today?" With half a mouth full, "Not too sure. None of my friends called, so I was going to just hang and watch some TV. Maybe go to the mall." Angela looked at Kristen. "What about you, honey?" Just looking up, Kristen carefully muttered, "Nothing. Why?" "Well," said Angela matter-of-factly, "today's supposed to be gorgeous. In the 80's. We should do the girl thing today, since we have no friends. Let's hit the mall, and tonight how about a camp out in the backyard?" Heather looked up and beamed. "COOL! Can we have beer, or something? It is the girls' night out, and since Kristen can't get into a bar or anything..." That's exactly what the three did. They all went to the Christiana Mall around three. They liked to work the mall, as they put it. Starting with JCPenney's, and work the way down. Of course, the primary purchase interest was clothes. Heather just loved shopping, almost to an addictive point. Kristen and Angela kept pace with her, though. The whole time they were going rack to rack to rack, Kristen was dreaming and forecasting the night ahead. She thought of her mother, all too many times, naked. Then Heather. Then herself. All three of them, in that white tent still rolled up in the garage, totally nude. She knew and felt Angela was up to something in a very devilish, and flirtatious way. It became self-evident, at least to Kristen, when they went into Victoria's Secret. "Oh, my. I can be in this place for hours," Angela said dreamily. "Oh, I know..." exclaimed Heather, "...and they're so expensive." She shuffles her bags. "This will be the last place I'm buying something. I am too broke." Angela looked at her sternly. "Watch what you do with that credit card, young lady. I'm not paying it." Heather huffed. "Don't worry, Mom...that's why I'm working. Let's look around." Together, all three perused the world of exotic lingerie. The entire place was in an old woodworked style, and the smell of spring potpourri filled the air. They frowned at the "old lady" styles, and giggled at the risque. Eventually, they all split in several directions. One minute quickly drained into a half hour. That's when Heather saw Kristen at the counter, taking a bag and finishing a purchase. With a few hangers in her hand, she quickly sprinted to Kristen. "Hey, what did you get?" Kristen blushed a little. "Well, I don't normally buy this stuff. I'll show you later." Heather laughed. "You better." And turned to finish shopping. Kristen knew she may show them all tonight. Angela carried the somewhat dirty white tent, Heather took the sleeping bags, while Angela took the provisions. They ventured far enough where they could still barely make out the house in the orange sunset. The sun was going down, and they wanted to get set up before dark. Heather and Kristen knew the terrain well, for they used to play and tell secrets behind those very trees. It was solitude that only few knew of, one being their mother. They led to a small clearing surrounded by proud oaks and birches, and put down the gear. Kristen declared, "I'll make the fireplace!" and began to gather stones. Heather set up her radio/cassette player for some background noise as she and her mother set up the tent. As the sun finally gave way to the impending star-glittered darkness, Kristen had already had the round stone fireplace built and kindling already lit and snapping. Heather and her mother set up the tent, after several attempts which left them laughing hysterically, and were rolling out the sleeping bags inside. When Kristen had returned with her fifth armful of firewood, Heather and Angela were sitting on a log, drinking cold Coors, and roasting marshmallows. They looked up when she approached, and dropped the wood. "Hey, no fair. I'm busting my hump in the wild out there and you two have started." Angela grinned. "Honey, you're done. We have enough wood to build a house. Here...don't tell anyone..." and handed her youngest a cold bottle. Kristen smiled, and sat on an opposite log, and said "...yeah!" and took a sip. For moments, it was quiet except for the sounds of the night birds, and the trees rustling. They all looked to the stars peeking between the high branches, taking in the light breeze and feeling as if they were the last people on earth. Kristen looked at both of them, looking up. She was a bit anxious, only trying to predict what might happen when she gets a little too drunk to keep her mouth shut. She looked at her mother, in her grey sweatshirt, and grey shorts. The orange firelight accented her wavy blonde hair, and she looked years younger. Kristen's eyes gleaned at her crossed legs, noticing every curve. She then looked at Heather, who was a mere younger version of Angela, and traced the outlines of her bra, though her white t-shirt, in the orange hue of the fire. Heather wore red shorts, which were high on her propped up legs. As the alcohol began to take her mind swimming on her third beer, she began to... "Well, go ahead," said Angela, "there's a bush there and there and there..." Heather lazily looked around at the dark woods. "I'm not going in there...it's too dark. I can't." "Oh, go on...your sister will go with you. Go, Kristen...your older sister has to pee...go protect her from the lions, tigers, and...(belch)...bears." Almost falling backwards herself, Kristen stood up, dropping her empty bottle. "Okay, Mom." She grabbed Heather's hand, jerking her into the woods. "Let's go, stupid," and they both laughed as they staggered into the darkness of the forest. Still holding hands, surprisingly strong for two drunk young women, they walked further and further until the campfire was a small blur. Heather fell back against a big tree, laughing hard. "Oh god, oh god, oh god...my head is spinning!" she laughed. "I gotta pee...I'm gonna fall down...Kristen, help..." and she held to the sides of the tree with the back of her arms. Kristen looked at her sister, who almost looked crucified to the tree in the moonlight. "Help...?" she stammered. She had a feeling this was it. "Yeah..." Heather was now slurring and holding on to the tree. "If I don't get my shorts off, I'll pee myself." Sweat came to Kristen's forehead and brought about some sobering reality. Deftly, she knelt down in front of her sister, who leaned with her back against the bent tree. She gripped the sides of Heather's dark shorts, applying a little arm strength to pull Heather's body from the tree just a little, and began to take down her sister's shorts. Kristen found it difficult not to breathe hard as the back of her fingertips ran down her Heather's soft legs as she pulled down the material. "Hurry..." Heather breathed, as her shoes were removed to slip the shorts off. In her fogginess, she could feel the leaves under her bare feet and the light wind brush by her thighs. Kristen caught the beginnings of Heather's soft buttocks, and gently (and involuntarily) pulled down her sister's satin underwear. And in that moment, Kristen was face to face, saw it in the darkness, and could smell the scent of Heather's womanhood. Kristen was still a bit foggy, but knew what she had...and wanted, to do. "Kneel down, Heather. I'll hold you up, so you won't pee yourself." All Heather could do was slide her back down the smooth trunk of the big tree, and support herself on her heels. Kristen could smell even more of her scent because her legs were spread. And at that moment, Heather let out a gasp, and a forceful stream of liquid began to hiss into the ground. Kristen, holding Heather up by the knees, was fascinated. In the moonlight she could see the glistening stream coming from Heather's crotch, and ooze into the dirt. And as soon as she began, Heather finished. Then she murmured, and giggled, "I can't...get up." Kristen was shaking. She responded deftly with her fingertips, moving her hands up Heather's legs. Heather was quiet, with her head back, eyes dreamily closed. The smoothness of her legs excited Kristen, who found her fingertips at Heather's upper thighs, where her panties should've been. Her hands then moved off to opposite sides, feeling the roundness of Heather's ass. Kristen positioned her shaky hands on each buttock cheek. "We'll get up together, and I'll pull you up. On three." Heather slowly nodded. "One, two,...THREE." Using their legs to support each other, the two sisters rose together, Heather with her back to the tree. For an eternal moment, they stood there. Heather, now looking forward wearily, and Kristen looking back with her hands on her sister's backside. Her hands then released their semi-firm grip, and moved to her sister's hips. With no explanation, Heather reached out, and caressed Kristen's hair.Kristen, feeling such freedom as she's ever known, moved her left hand forward and ran her fingers through Heather's pubic hair. Closing her eyes, Heather gasped. Heather ran her hands all over Kristen's soft ass. "It feels wonderful," Heather's mind fleeted. Just as it always would. Her hands moved around and touched Kristen's soft, virgin hair. Heather could feel the young, raw heat that emanated. She ran her tongue down Kristen's neck, causing her to silently gasp. "Heather...", Kristen moaned as she pulled her sister forward so their wet pubic areas could touch and share each other's heat. Heather knew what she wanted. She slid her hands up Kristen's smooth belly. Kristen obliged by removing her T-shirt. Heather could barely make out Kristen's lacy bra in the deep moonlight, but knew the latch was in the front. With an effortless tug, she unfastened Kristen's bra, and her young breasts bounced free. With careful fingers, as to absorb every soft sensation, she slid the straps off Kristen's shoulders and let her ears take in the sound of her bra hitting the dry leaves at their feet. And, for the first time, Heather cupped both of her sister's breasts, and shuddered. She closed her eyes and let her fingers send the pictures of erotic reality to her brain. The soft feel of Kristen's young breasts, the curves that she could feel under her forefinger on top, and her thumb that weighed the weight of each, on the bottom. Her fingertips did an immediate glide across her nipples, and found them erect. Kristen moaned louder, and more fierce. They were no longer of this earth. On instinct, Heather lowered her head and began to suckle Kristen's breast while fondling the other. Kristen clawed at the back of Heather's shirt until she found the backsnap for Heather's bra. Practically tearing it loose, she forcefully unsnapped it. Heather enjoyed every sensation of her breasts bouncing free, as the cool air rushed through her shirt. Kristen reached around and under and began to knead Heather's heavier breasts. Heather stopped, and slowly took off her shirt. The two sisters were facing each other totally nude, with a passion unbound. Kristen took Heather's hand and whispered "I want you." She took two steps back and sat on the ground. She could see the stars glittering over the treetops, then she saw Heather's face as she lowered her body onto Kristen. Their warmth melded as they kissed again, with hands roaming over their flesh. Kristen parted her shapely legs as Heather ran her fingers over her pussy. "Put a finger in", Kristen moaned. Heather slowly slid her forefinger in Kristen's slippery vagina, and was in wonder as to how tight Kristen was. Kristen, feeling the waves of pain and pleasure awash her body, squeezed Heather's breasts, and pushed them against hers. She rotated her thighs faster and faster to Heather's beckoning finger, now deep inside her. Finally, almost to the point that she would scream, Kristen came, and Heather could feel Kristen's insides swell, and release an incredible amount of juice onto her finger. Kristen was floating in space. When she opened her eyes an eternity later, Heather was smiling at her. They both started laughing and kissed and hugged each other. Then, with a big smile, Kristen said, "Your turn..." Heather knew what she wanted. She got up, and leaned forward against the tree, arms straight. She parted her legs invitingly, as she offered her sister what she had. Kristen could smell the sex in the air, as she bent down. Running her hands up and down Heather's smooth legs, she put her face close to Heather's shapely ass. Kristen used her tongue to massage the outside of Heather's labia, and for the first time, tasted the love nectar of another woman. Savoring its sweetness, her tongue became more aggressive, and began to dart between the lipfolds of Heather's aching vagina. Heather arched her back, and moaned unintelligible moans. Kristen was aware of what her sister needed, and forcefully shoved her tongue deep inside Heather's throbbing hole. The waves of pleasure attacked Heather's body without mercy. Her nails dug into the bark of the tree that supported her. Her naked legs tensed, she knew she couldn't hold out for very long. Then, as soon as one of Kristen's hands touched her breast, she exploded, washing her sister's merciless tongue with her juices. Her heart was pounding, and she breathed heavily. She turned to Kristen. "God, that was fantastic. I can't believe how good you made me feel." "I wanted you so bad", Kristen sighed, "I had to have you. I don't care if it's wrong. You feel so good." Heather paused, and peered at her sister in the darkness. This was the person that took her to heights of awareness. If wrong, so be it. She would not let it go. She said, "I love you Kris." She wanted to cry. "I love you too, Heather!" They held each other close, and kissed to commemorate their new-found intimacy. Regardless, it was getting late, and the fire was dying. They all retreated to the safety of the tent. They saw the distant house lights as they zippered it shut, with only a flashlight to illuminate the tent. The three sleeping bags were already out, neatly adjacent to one another. Still reveling from the experience, Heather knew she wanted to sleep with Kris...but Mom would find out. Kris reflected her thoughts, but extended them, adding the memory of her mother touching her breasts, and she thought in a drunken stupor. Their mother was never this bold before, and with what just happened to them in the woods, their juices were flowing automatically. Angela saw the same look in Kristen's eye as she did in the bathroom. Heather looked the same...they were staring at her shapely breasts. There was a long silence. The alcohol stripped away any embarrassment that might have been there. Angela grinned at her gazing daughters, "I used to let you two suckle...that's how they got this big." Heather stammered a bit, still buzzed. "Really? Doesn't that hurt?" Angela replied, "No...except when you were teething. I used to nurse you both all the time. You couldn't get enough, as I recall. I remember back then..." Kristen swirled. "I just can't imagine...I mean..." She stopped. Angela grinned. A little voice told her not to, but a drunken mind took precedence. "If you try it again, you'll remember..." Kristen and Heather looked at each other. Unsure, they read each other's eyes, and looked at their half-naked mother, and her bountiful breasts. They were in the woods...no one would know. They leaned forward together apprehensively, and were on their knees in a kneeling position. Kristen's lips tremored as she leaned forward and let her lips touch Angela's warm hard nipple. She felt the warmness of her mother's breast touch her cheek. Heather looked at her chosen breast briefly, and closed her eyes. Her lips too, found the nipple. Both began to suck automatically, as age-old automatisms kicked in. Angela's eyes closed, and she ran her fingers through her daughters' hair. The sensation electrified her insides as she pulled them closer. Heather began to drift away with this wild sensation. Her touch began darting over Angela's nipple, causing her to moan quietly. Kristen cupped Angela's breast and began to suck harder. Their slurps could only be heard from within the tent. Heather could not ignore the eagerness between her legs, as she sucked harder. Angela cupped her own breast for Heather, and her other hand involuntarily went down her own side. Kristen opened her eyes and looked down. Angela's hand was in her own shorts, massaging her pussy. Still suckling, Kristen pulled aside Angela's shorts, and was given a view of Angela sliding her fingers over her moist and steamy labia. Kristen watched and wanted her. Angela was moving into ecstasy. She began to massage Heather's shoulders, and fearlessly began to massage Heather's breasts, for the first time, through her t-shirt, half noticing she wasn't wearing a bra. Heather moaned, and began to rub her crotch through her shorts, and pulled up her shirt to feel her mother's hand on her naked breasts. Angela felt their warmth and was on the verge of orgasm. Her fingers touched Heather's nipples, felt the weight of her young breasts, and softly squeezed them. Angela plunged two fingers deep inside her hot vagina and moaned loudly. Kristen could feel her mother's shudders while sucking her breast, causing her to finger her own hard clit. They all seemed to come together, Angela with her two daughters licking and sucking her bosoms, Kristen with her right hand massaging her crotch with a passion, and Heather, practically half naked, with her hand shoved in her own wet box. The tent was filled with moans of no return and ecstasy. They all seemed to rise together, to swell together. Someone squelched. Someone screamed. Then finally, it was quiet. They fell against each other in a sweaty heap.It was pink, very wet, and she could almost feel its hot yearning from the short distance. Her mother's hands caressed her ass as she lowered her head. Kris threw her head back as Heather's tongue explored her outer lips, sliding to her hard clit, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. Heather arched her back and moaned as Angela's fingers slid very easily into her hot box, fucking her with the other. With sexual hunger, Heather sucked the juices from her sister's vagina. Kris cupped her breasts and pulled on her nipples. She was about to come and pushed Heather's head in deeper, grinding it between her spread thighs. She watched her mother behind her sister with ecstasy, studying her breasts and her look of wanton lust. Kris came, waves of pleasure assaulting her senses and causing her to scream loudly. Hearing her sister come hard and tasting her young juices, Heather also came hard, her inner walls swelling around Angela's fingers that were deep inside. And Angela, rubbing her own clit, came when Heather turned about and sucked her breasts, and Kris stood up, letting her mother taste her for the first time. They all made love for the next few hours until they were exhausted. The next morning, they woke up around 9 am, in each other's arms, nude. At first, no one said anything. This was the time that regrets would fly and promises of secrecy would be made. But instead, they all smiled, touched each other, caressed each other. They felt closer than they ever did and would not pretend the previous night never happened. Now, they were one.

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/Incest/Angela-Kristen-Heather FFF.txt

sweetleaf

A Bedtime Story 5 MF

...dropping to my knees, fumbling with your belt, your zipper, reaching inside your pants to free your throbbing cock... and kissing the head lovingly... hungrily... you push me back and down so that I'm kneeling before you; ass to heel... and you open my mouth wide... eyes closed... I feel you edge closer... the toes of your boots touching my knees as you guide your cock into my mouth... All the way till I feel the head hit the back of my throat... then back out. Over and over... then you take a handful of my hair and begin fucking my face... deeply... a constant gurgle/gag elicits from my obediently opened mouth... tears streaming down my face... but I love it... and you know it... and it makes you fucking wild with lust... You push all the way into my mouth... your entire length... and hold it there... adoring the way your tear-streaked fuckdoll looks on her knees, choking on your cock... you finally release me and I reel backwards... drool stringing from my lips to the head of your dick... I return and devour you... tongue flicking the tip, dancing along the length... stroking the base with one hand and tugging at your heavy balls with the other... sucking them into my mouth gently... "Go to the chair, my dirty whore," you hiss, and I stand... take off your clothes off first, Mel... I begin pulling my shirt over my head whilst walking to the chair but you reconsider... "Turn around and face me... do it slowly... I want to see you"... I turn to you... pulling my shirt over my head... Reaching back to unhook my bra and letting it fall off my shoulders and to the floor... leaning over to push my jeans down to my knees... then lifting one foot to slip them off... then the other... I reach for the waistband of my panties. And you stop me... "Not yet," you say... you reach to the dresser top beside you, open the drawer, and pull out a small silver vibrator... You bring it over to me... looking me deep in the eyes... I can hear the hum and the sensation of you tugging at my gusset and pulling it aside... then the cool smooth metal sliding up and down the now slippery folds of my aching pussy... "Take it like a good girl... and get yourself good and ready for me," you whisper... I oblige... and begin circling my clit, sort of blushing all over... looking you in the eyes as you meet my gaze... I'm making myself wet... doing all this work and you aren't even watching... just looking into my soul... and stroking your cock gently... "Are you good and wet, my one?" you ask, and I nod... then you look down... admiring the visible deep purple patch in my light lavender panties. Scooping me up at my waist so that I'm on my knees, my shoulders on the bed... you abruptly pull my panties down... I'm on my knees, so they stop there... you rather like the looks of my soaked panties around my knees like a proper whore... waiting to be fucked or sucked or fingered or teased... You abruptly spit on my asshole and bury a thumb inside slowly, but smoothly... and begin fingering me slowly while you make your 'v' with your other hand above my clit to expose it to your loving, gifted tongue... my body reacts wildly... trembling... whimpering... pain mixed with exquisite pleasure... goddamnit, my one, you make me so fucking wet and happy and drunk. ...I can hear the clink of the chain of your wallet and the thud of the zippo hit the floor... and I know you've wriggled out of your pants somehow... your thumb becomes still... pressed in with obvious pressure... and I feel your cock slip in to my aching pussy... just slightly... only the head... and you stop... I can feel you grinning... enjoying how your dick looks inside my pussy only an inch... how I'm wriggling in agony... wanting desperately to be fucked now... fucked hard... you reach around, palm on my belly and lift me up... my back against your chest... you whisper in my ear, "Do you want me to fuck you, my Mel?" A hand moves down to part my lips and your finger caresses my pussy as you continue your verbal tease... Asking which hole you should spunk in. Which one would look best with your cum oozing out in a few mins... your questions aren't intended for me to answer... so I don't bother as you push me back down... and flip me over... pushing the backs of my legs so that my knees are up at my ears... you admire the way my cunt lips part just slightly as my legs are pressed to the bed... and you drive your cock deep inside me... I whimper... then bite my lip as my eyes roll and my hands grip your sheets, knuckles white... You're fucking me furiously now... your balls banging into that sensitive spot between my pussy and my asshole... I reach back behind you and pull your cheeks apart with my palms... digging the tips of my long, slender middle fingers into you as I apply pressure and part you. You feel a rush of euphoria and respond by abruptly pulling out and turning around, rear facing, and straddling me... "FINGER MY ARSE, DIRTY WHORE!" you hiss... you push your body forward and plant your palms on the bed... I scoot up and onto my knees... burying my finger deep in my cunt... you can hear my finger pushing in and out... and then I sigh... parting you and spitting... and then pushing my glistening finger inside you... stroking your cock so perfectly... baby, it's all I can do not to cum all over the place right this min... Your body is too relaxed to resist much... and I push gently through until I'm fucking you, in and out, so slowly, with the first half of my finger... only an inch, if that, but deep in your tight fucking asshole... I grin, having the upper hand for a change, and I guide you to roll onto your back... adding, for good measure, that you'd best be careful... cos if you free yourself from this finger, it's over... and you'll just have to fuck me to oblivion. You consider it... but you take care... and roll over, my finger still inside you... you pull your legs back and apart... and I take your cock in my mouth... sucking and slurping hard... deep... taking great pride in inching down until you're literally beyond my tonsils and your entire length is inside my mouth... I moan deeply and your senses bend... Taking advantage... I push my still wet finger all the way to the knuckle... you tense... just for a split second, then you're oblivious... your adoring Mel, fingering your asshole deep and hard and slow... sucking you wildly... like a perfect lil whore... YOUR perfect lil whore... RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWR. I'm gonna cum!!! Omg!

Authors/sweetleaf/A Bedtime Story 5 MF.txt

sweetleaf

A Bedtime Story4

...walking through your door, freshly showered, smelling of patchouli and orange blossom and being collected swiftly into your arms... kissing you deeply... but softly... hands everywhere... stroking your wakening cock through your jeans... I'm so in love with the way I feel when I'm with you... because I want you the way you want me. It's electric when we touch... makes me tremble everywhere. Still kissing, you begin to move forward as I step back... moving backwards with you until the backs of my legs touch the edge of the bed. I sit on the edge of the bed, helping you as you struggle with your belt and zipper... dropping your jeans and pants to your knees. I take hold of your glorious cock and begin stroking it gently, firmly, while you pull your shirt up and over your head. I look up at you and smile as I begin licking the length of your shaft from the head to the base...then up again... over and over... from time to time, sucking the head deeply when I reach it... tongue probing the tip... then back down, lifting my hand beneath you gently to suckle your balls into my mouth, one at a time... then push you backwards a bit, standing and letting the towel fall to the ground. I position myself on my knees... you move closer, taking my fragrant wet hair in your hand as you guide my hungry mouth to your cock... I go, inch by inch, sucking deeply... until I'm devouring your entire length fast and hard... nails digging into your ass as you tighten your grip on my hair and hold my head still... 'take it, bitch' you hiss as you begin fucking my face... Deeper and deeper until you're touching the back of my throat... I elicit the dirtiest sounds... gurgling obscenely... unable to stop my gag reflex... you thrust deeply and hold it there... I'm looking up at you as a tear rolls down my face... a reaction to being choked on a throat full of cock head... you lovingly wipe it away with the palm of your hand...and you release my hair... I reel backwards... Squatting obscenely... gasping for breath... just when I'm able to breathe easy again, I feel your hand gripping a fistful of my hair again as you raise me back onto my haunches and force your cock back into my throat again... the feeling of my gullet convulsing around the head of your cock is just too magnificent... and you hold it there again... until I feel the earth spinning from oxygen deprivation... and you release me once more... Drool and pre-cum string from the head of your cock to my lips... you love your filthy whore, red-faced and tear-streaked... catching her breath after your selfish abuse... and smiling like a perfect fucking slut... 'damn right, you like it, don't you, baby?' you whisper as you pull me up to my feet and push me onto the bed... 'spread your legs wide' you say and I do as I'm told... you run your fingers up and down my slippery fucking cunt, pleased with how wet I've become... and you crawl on top of me... Your tongue entering my mouth just as your index finger slips inside me... kissing me softly... fingering my soaking wet cunt hard... your knuckles pounding into my flesh with each thrust of your up-bent finger... you're deep inside me now and you remain there... frigging your completely buried finger... making my thighs tremble. I sigh deeply into your open mouth... then you remove it fully, and move down my body... Kissing my nipples, my sides...as I giggle... my belly... then finally you close your mouth over my aching cunt and breathe out deeply... teasing me... looking up, telling me you love the way my goddamn pussy tastes... you tilt your head and begin lapping at it with the soft middle of your tongue... and I nearly cum... almost to that point, you bring it to an abrupt halt as you penetrate the rim of my asshole with a forceful thumb... Stopping just at the point of resistance... you begin circling my clit, counter-clockwise, waiting for me to relax and to accept your thumb inside me... slowly, you push further inside... deeper and deeper. Twisting your wrist with each further attempt. Once fully inside, you return 2 fingers in my soaked wet pussy and continue your tongue's assault on my clit... Pounding into both holes with your now soaked fucking hand... after a minute, you rest your jaw as you sit up to watch your fingers disappear and reappear from my cunt and asshole... each one glistening with my lust for you... I'm out of my mind, gripping the sheets, eyes rolled in my head... legs spread wide open to you... I look so beautiful, laying on your bed like a fucking pretty little naked fuck doll, being finger-fucked... Your cock is throbbing now... but it must wait... I've been such a good little whore... you'll reward me... removing your fingers without warning, I'm sent spiraling back to earth... when I come to, you're on your hands and knees beside me... and I jump up and stand behind you... palm between your shoulders, I push down and you collapse on the bed... ass still in the air... cock hanging beautifully at attention... Your hands come back to part your cheeks wide... and I begin stroking your cock firmly while my tongue laps at your glorious asshole...up and down... side to side... soft, sensual tastes... I guide your hand to your cock to suggest you stroke it for me... I'm almost spellbound... watching you... it's so fucking sexy... 'eat my asshole, bitch!' you hiss and I, once again, come back to reality... more than happy to oblige you, I place my palms on your cheeks and spread you wide... With steady soft tongue, I cover your asshole and thrash my head about wildly... sucking and licking and slurping and nibbling... my entire fucking face is buried in your backside and I'm in heaven... fucking heaven... my drool runs down to your balls and I begin to hear it as you stroke your cock furiously... I pull back, holding you open with the tips of my fingers, pulling away... and spit precisely... Then I bury half my finger in your well-eaten asshole... little resistance at all... I can hear you moan and your cock jerks wildly as you begin moving back onto my finger... I'm just holding it still, in awe, thinking I could cum here and now... without any stimulation at all... watching my one rocking gently on my outstretched slender finger as he strokes his cock... all at eye level... watching my finger disappear into you... 'God, I want you to cum in me!' I moan as you push forward and free yourself from my finger... 'Come here, dirty bitch!' you whisper as I stand... you've moved to a sitting position and you grab my waist, pulling me on top of you... I raise up, steadying your cock with one hand while lowering myself onto your cock... so fucking wet I'M SO FUCKING WET!!!! There's no resistance at all and I sink all the way to the hilt... bottoming out... my skin against yours... And we're still for a while... just reveling in the feeling... you of how tightly my cunt grips your cock... and me how you feel inside me... involuntarily twitching... you take my ass in your hands and guide me up and down, directing my rhythm... when I'm fucking your cock with the proper movement, you let go of my hips and lay back... just loving how I look bouncing above you... Riding you perfectly... you just stare into my eyes with the most incredible love... I place a palm on your thighs behind me and lean back just enough to graze that sweet spot with each thrust... god, you feel so good inside me, baby? I'm gonna cum... With that, I throw my head back, arch my back as my eyes roll back too... and you feel my pussy grip your cock in quick crushing waves... as I bite my bottom lip and whimper politely... cumming warmly all fucking over you... flooding your cock, your balls, your thighs... and you explode too... deep inside me... gripping my shoulders and forcing me down hard... harder... Until my own orgasmic muscles have milked every last drop of spunk... I collapse on top of you... breathing deeply... smiling enough to nearly light the fucking universe. Loving how your cock feels, still inside me, as it softens.

Authors/sweetleaf/A Bedtime Story4 (MF).txt

sweetleaf

A Bedtime Story 9

...thinking all day about how I went down on you earlier in your kitchen while you tended to your cuppa. And then admiring how sweetly I swallowed your thick spunk; how primly I wiped the corners of my mouth and rose from my knees to wink and prop myself against the counter while we wait on the kettle. You couldn't wait to get your hands on me. So you've taken me in your arms and given me a passionate, deep kiss. Then you whisper for me to take my clothes off, slowly, so you can enjoy the show. Keeping eye contact, I unbutton my jeans. Then I take the pencil from my hair and shake it loose, letting it fall down around my face. Lifting my shirt over my head and letting it slip out of my hands and onto the floor. Reaching back now, unfastening my bra, and it joins my shirt. Biting my lower lip and smiling at you, I unzip my Levis slowly and pull them down, wriggling them over my hips and stepping out of them when they fall past my knees. Pausing for a moment, I wait for instruction. "Take them off, Mel." I peel my purple cotton panties off as well and step out of one leg, leaving the other around one ankle like a proper whore. Taking a fistful of my hair, you pull me to you and hiss in my ear that you want me on my hands and knees. As you've instructed, I kneel down and plant my palms on the ground. I feel your glorious hands parting my ass cheeks so that both of my holes are exposed, displayed sweetly for you, glistening already. Smacking the backs of my legs, then my ass, again, then again HARD. Then rubbing sweetly over my blushing, abused skin. I can feel your breath draw in close to me, and then your glorious soft tongue laps deeply from the top of my cunt all the way to my asshole, slowly, so slowly. I whimper. You reach your forearm across my belly and grab my hair with the other, pulling me around forcefully. "Are you enjoying this, my cumslut?!" you growl and then push your hard cock into my mouth so unexpectedly that I gag and tears well in my eyes. But I smile as you pull out so I may catch my breath. Then you start to fuck my face, slow shallow thrusts while I tongue the tip and along the length of your shaft, and then pushing it deep into my throat and holding it there, pulling out just before my head is dizzy from deprivation of oxygen. Drool runs out the sides of my mouth and coats your balls. You lift me onto your bed and spread my legs wide, instructing me to finger myself. You watch as I circle my clit with my middle finger with a tiny, slow movement, enjoying the blush of my face and the wetness that now covers my slippery fingers. You whisper for me to put that finger inside me, and I do so. Your cock twitches, visibly, as you watch my slender finger disappear into the folds of my glistening cunt. "Mmm. You're getting fucking wet, dirty slut, fingering yourself on my bed," you chide as I look into your eyes, begging for your touch. "Very well," you respond to my silent plea. "Does my wet little whore need some help?" I whimper softly as you run your middle finger all around mine, busy with my own finger fucking, and you slip it inside my asshole without so much as a warning. After the initial surprise and a bit of obscene cooing from you, I relax and accept your finger, knuckle deep. In rhythm, we're both fingering me, and I'm about to fucking come off the fucking bed and float into the atmosphere, toes curled. I can see, by the movement of both your shoulders, that you're stroking your cock with the same tempo as your finger is fucking my ass. That's it, I cum immediately, gripping your finger tightly as you lean in to suckle my clit deep into your mouth, fucking me furiously with that finger and swallowing my honey over and over. It's trickling into your beard. OMG! I remove my finger, and you follow suit. I collapse, legs parted wide and obscene, and breathing deeply, blushing everywhere, tousled hair, trembling thighs. The waves of orgasm ebbing softly into an exquisite heady high. You take a fistful of my hair in your hand, move in to kiss me. I can taste my pussy on your tongue, and I moan deeply into your opened mouth. You pull me up gently to standing, then push me down onto my knees. I begin kissing your cock softly, suckling your balls, tugging at them, stroking your cock while my mouth follows, tonguing the tip at times, then dancing along the length of your shaft in others. My nails are digging into your ass. You love the way I look with a mouthful of your throbbing cock. Lust takes over, and you shove my head into you, holding me in place till drool runs from the sides of my mouth and onto your balls, then you release me. I'm gasping for breath. I look up at you and smile, keeping my eyes locked to yours as I take you back into my hungry wet mouth again, stroking you in rhythm, cupping your balls, sucking hard as I reach the head and then relaxing my throat to take you back in to the hilt. Every so often, you again take my hair in your fist and hold me there, your cock deep in my throat, gagging sweetly, eyes watering. "If you're a good little whore, I'll let you cum again after you eat my asshole." You withdraw and step back, grinning devilishly, you lie back on your bed, wrapping your arms around your legs, then raise up just enough to see if I'm with you. But I'm already covering your asshole with my mouth, and breathing, and French kissing, for lack of a better word, your glorious back door, as I press either side with the edges of my thumb of both hands, penetrating tongue lashings. I bury my finger in my soaked pussy while rimming you gently, teasingly. Holding your cock up towards your belly with my free hand, I trail the soft mid of my tongue from your asshole, up behind your balls, suckling them a bit, then up the underside of your shaft to suck your bell end, then back down again, sloppy and loud and rhythmic. Then with coaxing thumbs, alternating, over and over and over, I edge their tips closer and closer to your hole, commanding that asshole to open up for me, to let me inside. Palms flat on your cheeks now and pulling them apart, I press my face hard into you and nibble, then suck, then lap fervently. Then wrist upturned, I try to enter you, but you're impenetrable. I wrap my hand around your cock and begin to stroke you fully and firmly, then continue to attempt a ring finger, slowly. You relax, and the wet, sloppy entry appears. You breathe out deeply as I push inside you, to the first knuckle, and bend to a come hither, and slide so easily in and out, in and out. You've taken the reins and stroke your cock absent-mindedly as you lay back and enjoy my full finger, twisting, palm up and to each side, as I fuck you like my bitch, because I'm YOUR bitch, and you commanded it, and I love it, spitting and licking and sucking and fingering your happy hole until I think you're gonna lose your mind. Keeping my finger inside you, I ease my way to standing, and you scoot to the edge of the bed, positioning your legs so that my arm is between them, in front of me. With my middle finger still, best I can manage, inside your asshole, I lower myself, rear facing, onto your lap and impale myself on your raging hard cock. No resistance at all. I sink to the hilt with a loud, obscene slap of thighs against thighs, sweaty and gooey and glorious. I'm planted above you, and you're fucking up toward me while I crook my finger and graze that sweet spot inside you with only the firm pressure of its tip on each downward thrust to meet yours up. Your forearm is bracing my body, hand at my shoulder, elbow at my hipbone, keeping me from falling over as I focus on that finger in your asshole. Then I withdraw, scoot up your body until we're in a 69, and you're devouring my wet, wet cunt, and I'm watching my small finger disappear inside your asshole, hearing you moan deeply, feeling your breath change as your mouth covers my pussy. I'm stroking your cock now, in time with the fucking I'm giving you with my finger, and pre-cum oozes from your head. You're writhing beneath me, and eating my cunt so fucking good. I'm flooding your beard with honey. I dismount, and you sit up, beckoning, positioning me on all fours and smacking my ass hard, then again, HARDER. I moan deep and primal as you drive your magnificent cock into my soaking wet cunt. You gasp at how hot and fucking wet it is and how I hug your cock so fucking tightly. You're fucking me hard, with your fingers joining the rhythm inside my other hole, one then two fingers in and out, hard, then pulling out to admire how it gapes from the fucking by your expert hand. You lean over on top of me, kissing my tattoo, holding my hips firmly, you plow mercilessly into me, my ass rippling off of your hips with each thrust. Suddenly, your balls swell and tighten, and you fuck me faster, deeper, your hand has reached up and covered my mouth to keep me from screaming as you feel a gush of fucking hot cum flood our sex and you edge ever closer to exploding inside me, turned on more than you ever thought possible by your trembling, limp fuckdoll.impaled on your cock, cumming hard too. As your spunk gushes out from all sides with each pounding thrust.

Authors/sweetleaf/A Bedtime Story 9 (MF).txt

Fedora

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Authors/Fedora/index.txt

...then she noticed that Sharon's face had fallen when Evelyn suggested this. "But Sharon seems to have taken quite a shine to my sexy young stud here. Why don't you do him, Sharon, while we watch? I might learn something from you!" Her voice was almost breaking with nerves, and she had almost revealed that Kevin was her son, but the rest must have taken it as lust. They nodded, and Sharon's face lit up. She turned and kissed Kevin, working his cock the whole time. She dropped to her knees and reached out to encircle his cock with one hand. She bathed the throbbing cockmeat with her tongue, running saliva over his shiny pole and tight, huge balls. Her hands were stroking the insides of his thighs, and she moved them upwards so that her fingertips lightly touched the underside of his penis. The guys were all gasping at her technique, and even Kelly was watching, entrapped. She had managed to completely disassociate the cock from her son and was enjoying watching this as though it was her real live porn movie. As she was thinking about how hot this was, Sharon formed an "o" with her lips and pushed them over the swollen head of her son's cock. Kevin moaned, and his head went back, eyes closed. She pushed the tight ring down his penis until she had four inches in her mouth and then stopped. Kelly could see Sharon's tongue working away by the way her cheeks swelled and relaxed. She was really going at him! Now Evelyn got involved. She knelt down behind Kevin and ran her tongue slowly down his back, over his asscrack, and down between his legs to his testicles. She pushed his legs further apart and sat between them, running her tongue all over his bloated ballsack. She sucked one of his nuts into her mouth, and then the other, and then kept alternating between the two. It was like watching her suck on two small eggs. In between sucks, she licked the thin line of skin that separated the two. Kevin was in heaven with not just one, but two women working away on his pleasure zones. He was breathing shallow and groaning up a storm. He knew that if this was the treatment he would be getting, he would be back for more without his mother! Kelly realized that she shouldn't be staring at her son like this, and also that there were two horny guys getting no attention. She turned and saw that they were both pumping their own cocks, their hands slick with spit. It was such a hot sight that she had to record it. She knelt and rooted through her handbag, pulling out her digital camera. Turning, she waved to the guys and got them to come over to her. They looked surprised but willing. Lining them up side-by-side, she had them jerk themselves some more and snapped off a quick shot. Alan came over to her and whispered in her ear. She grinned, nodded, and (against her judgment and very embarrassed) snapped off a picture of her son being sucked by the two women. She could print it out and give it to him as a memento of the event if nothing else. The thought of having these taboo photos really aroused her, so she set down the camera on the coffee table and beckoned to the two men. Kelly knelt down between the two men. She began jerking on Alan's thick cock while pushing her mouth onto John's longer tool. She noticed how her hand did not fit around the younger man's dick, and how she could only take six of the older guy's nine inches down her throat. She was out of practice. After a short while of this, she switched and tried to get Alan's cock into her mouth. She stretched her lips and teeth and managed to get them over the bulbous head, but could not go down on him. Her hand slithered around on John's now slick cock as she pulled him off. Backwards and forwards, she gave each man a share of her energetic mouth and vibrating hand. Kevin was watching his mom working on the two guys as Sharon and Evelyn worked away on him. The two women had changed positions, so that now Evelyn was deep-throating him while Sharon worked over his balls. She used her tongue a lot, and occasionally tickled his ass cheeks right where his hole was. His body jerked with each tickle of her tongue back there. The whole room was filled with the sound of wet blowjobs and handjobs, panting and sucking noises. After a few minutes of this, Evelyn got to her feet. "Come on, guys, I need some attention now. I'm dripping, and I bet so are Sharon and Kelly. What do you say, ladies, do you want some fucking?" All the while, she kept Kevin's cock in her hand as though she did not want to ever let go of the huge tool. "Yeah, I want my pussy pounded," joined in Sharon. Kelly took her mouth off John's cock and dropped Alan's. "Come on, Evelyn, I want to fuck you," said Kevin. Saying things like that in front of his mom and John really turned him on. He took Evelyn's hand and led her to the chair, where she spread her legs over the arms. Laying back, she spread her cunt lips lewdly, ready for Kevin. Kevin looked over to where John was pumping his cock and eyeing his mom. "I'd like to fuck you, Kelly, if you'll have me. I want to fuck you while your boyfriend fucks my slutty, dirty, depraved wife." "Sounds fair to me," Kelly grinned, thinking how slutty and depraved he would think her if he knew Kevin was her son. She knelt on the couch, bent over the back, and spread her amazingly long legs. Her pussy was slick and wet, her little clit standing up proudly. John walked over and knelt behind Kelly, between her open legs. "Shove it in me," Kelly was panting with lust now. "Fuck my pussy with your huge tool!" "Never one to let a lady down," John grinned, and he gripped the base of his hugely long shaft and guided his cock-tip into Kelly's slit. "Mmmmm," he groaned, "Man oh man!" He fed his cock into Kelly, sliding slowly up to the hilt in her tight hot pussy. "Oh fuck, oh God that's good," Kelly moaned. John grabbed hold of Kelly's wide hips and gripped them tightly as he slowly fucked his long dick in and out of the woman's clinging pussy. He could hear his dick sloshing in Kelly's cum juices. Sharon led her husband over to the sofa next to the two and had him sit down. She then turned around and sat slowly in his lap, holding his stiff thick boner in one hand and sliding her slick, sticky cunt down over it. He reached around and grabbed his wife's massive boobs, clutching them as he slipped inside. Once she had bottomed out on his six-incher, she began to rock her hips backwards and forwards so that it drove it deep and shallow inside her. Her sweetly curved stomach moved slightly as she fucked. "I love it when you have that thick fucker inside me," she groaned loudly. All recesses of the shy Sharon had vanished now, and she was competing with the others to make the most noise in the room. "That's it, Sharon, do me, fuck me," panted Alan, laying still with the patience of experience and enjoying the flared cunt of his young wife. Over with Kevin, he was just fucking his big nine-inch boner up into tiny Evelyn for the first time. She was spread over the chair, and her pussy just seemed way too tight to take him all in. She egged him on though, almost drowning out the screams he could hear from his mother. "Holy fuck, that's amazing!" Evelyn smiled up at him. "Go on, boy, get it up into me. Remember, I can take all of my hus..." She cut off here, groaning as her eyes rolled up into her head. Kevin was now buried deep in her, and she looked like she was in heaven. Spurred on by this great success - this was only his second fuck - he began to slowly drive his tool in and out of her. Despite being almost cherry, he was doing his best to look like an accomplished lover. After all, he was supposed to be Kelly's hot young stud. Evelyn leaned forwards and put her arms around his strong shoulders, locking her lips onto his and sliding her tongue down his throat. As he screwed her, he literally lifted her ass off the chair with each stroke. She was like a little doll against him, her small firm tits mashing against his chest. "Wow, God, Shit, Fuck, yeah," Kevin was gasping, really laying into Evelyn now. He was finding it easy to take long strokes with his cock, keeping at least four inches inside her at all times while using the last five to drive her wild. "Your pussy is so tight, Evelyn, so fucking tight!" "And your cock is huge! It's the largest I've ever had inside me! Fuck, I envy Kelly! I bet you fuck her noon and night, don't you, stud?" "Ummm... yes..." Kevin replied, glancing over to where John was doing his mom. He had no idea how tight his mom's cunt was, but John seemed to be laying it to her with a vengeance. She seemed to be really getting off on his huge cock and was clawing at the back of the couch. Kevin laughed at how funny it was to be here, fucking Evelyn, and watching his mom be done from behind by Evelyn's husband. Kevin turned back to Evelyn and kissed her again, dueling his tongue against hers. He was driving into her deeply, in and out, in and out, and she was driving her hips back at him, throwing her body against him as though his cock completely filled her up. Her thighs went around his hips, and she was ripping at his back with her nails.Her cunt was so tight, and yet Kevin could fit all of himself into her. He could feel that his nuts were about to blow, but he held back with all his might, wanting to get Evelyn off first. Kelly was creaming so hard from her fuck that she could barely stand it. It was almost too intense a fucking to bring her to orgasm. She didn't want to cum because she may pass out. She felt something at the entrance to her asshole and looked around, seeing that John had pushed his thick thumb inside her. She could feel that he had it up to his knuckle in her, like a mini cock. "Yes, screw my ass with your thumb! Fuck my pussy with your beautiful cock and push your thumb up my asshole!" John grinned down at her, his face flushed, and began to insert his thumb deeper. Alan and Sharon were having a great marital fuck. "I'm gonna make you cum, Sharon, and then I'm going to do Evelyn and Kelly. I'm going to do them while you watch, because I know you like to see me do other women." "Oh yes, my lover. I do. I do. I do. Please make me cum with that thick dick of yours and then let me watch. Please! Cum inside my cunt first though, lover, I want all your fluid!" Evelyn had almost passed out in Kevin's arms. She seemed exhausted by his tool but seemed very content to lay and let him do her more. He was looking over at John and his mother, watching Kelly being plowed with the man's huge cock. He couldn't get over how she was also taking John's thumb all the way up her ass, nor the older man's control over his fucking. He seemed to be keeping Kelly right on the edge of orgasm, no matter how much she screamed at him to make her cum. Evelyn came alive in his arms and gave him an evil grin when she saw what he was looking at. "You like seeing your pretty older girlfriend get pounded by my husband, don't you?" Kevin blushed and nodded. He had actually enjoyed watching his mom get fucked like a bitch in heat. "Fuck me, Kevin, fuck me harder," she yelled out, "I'm going to cum, fuck!" Kevin did his best to fuck her harder, afraid he would tear that little body into shreds with his power. He watched as, finally, the sexy little minx began to climax. "Yes, come on, cum you fucking cock hungry bitch," he growled down at her, "Fuckin' do it!" "Oh... Oh... OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... GOOOODDD!" Evelyn let out a wail like a banshee when she came. She clawed at Kevin, pulling his muscular young body tight against her and forcing his cock as deep up her pussy as it would go. Finally, he let himself go, throwing his cock into her and forcing her contracting cunt to take all of his seed. He felt his semen forced out of her as more replaced it, running down his thighs until he was spent. Evelyn collapsed backwards and his cock slipped out of her, throwing some ribbons of jism across her body. She lay panting for a minute and then gave him the biggest, happiest grin he thought he had ever seen. "Thank you, stud!" She said weakly. The noise from the room slowly filled his ears. Kelly, his mom, was still yelling at John for more as he made her scream with each thrust. Alan had obviously cum inside the talented cunt of his wife, and the two lay together, hugging and panting. Seeing that Kevin had finished with Evelyn, Alan stood and smiled, ruffling his spiky hair. "Care to have a go at my wife now, Kev?" Kevin knew that he could stay hard for at least one more cum and nodded. Alan went over and got Evelyn down on the floor on all fours and swiftly pushed his cock into her sperm-lubricated cunt. He took over where Kevin had left off, driving big strokes into Evelyn as she clawed the floor and yelled at him to do her. Sharon had meanwhile climbed over the back of the couch, mirroring Kevin's mother. She had her ass up in the air, and the young teenager could not help but admire, although it was big and round, how tightly muscled it was. Her pussy was peeking from between her big thighs, but she did not want him there. "Fuck my ass, Kevin!" She wiggled her smooth globes at him. "Ram me in my shitter!" The lewd orders turned Kevin on even more, and he knelt on the couch between her spread legs. He loved the way her dark eyes were looking at him imploringly, her nostrils flaring, desperate for an ass fucking. He worried about breaking her ass with his big cock and his experience, but put the flared head at her hairless pink anal chute nonetheless. He need not have worried - Sharon had obviously been ass fucked on many occasions by her husband, and Kevin's cock was still amazingly slick with his juices mixed with Evelyn's. Her clean asshole opened up easily for him, and he slowly inched his pecker up her bottom, hearing her scream get louder the deeper he went. He worried he was hurting her with his big, thick boner, but she was pushing back at him too, driving him further into her bowels. "Please... please... oooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Wailed Sharon as he got close and, eventually, bottomed out. His wispy pubes were resting against her bubble butt. "Now fuck it, you gorgeous stud!" She yelled at him, her eyes still liquid and pleading. Kevin began to fuck his tool back and forth in the nipping tight grip of Sharon's anus, buggering her royally. Both John and Kelly were watching what was going on. Kelly had rested her body on her elbows on the back of the couch, and as John fucked her, her erect nipples brushed the soft material. This drove her even wilder. Through slitted eyes, she watched as her son sodomized the beautiful big teenager, realizing on some level that this was probably the boy's first assfuck. She was proud of the way he was handling himself, and the sight of a teen as gorgeous and real as Sharon being fucked by a stud only a year younger than she would turn anyone on! "I've gotta cum soon, John," Kelly moaned, "Cum, cum, cum, must cum with your cock in my pussy and your thumb up my ass! I'm gonna cum...with this big fucking cock...in my cunt...oh yeah. UUUUUH! FUCK!!" She climaxed hard, impaling herself fully on John's throbbing meat and digit and grinding herself on his cock, her pussy spasming ecstatically with John's big weapon sheathed in her snatch. John grabbed her waist with his free hand and pulled her back against him, wanting to sheathe himself entirely in her spasming body. Kelly shuddered through her orgasm and then dropped back, allowing his cock to slip from between her pussy lips. John had not cum yet, and his glistening tool stood upright from his crotch. Kelly turned around and kissed him, her tongue deep in his mouth, her hand on his slick cock. Kelly then stepped down off the couch, grinning at all the lewdness going on around her. Her son was taking Sharon up the ass whilst Alan was apparently driving Evelyn into the carpet while the thin woman writhed like a snake. Kevin was burying himself balls deep into Sharon's guts and fucking her hard. She seemed to be able to take anything up her asshole that he could give. He knew his second orgasm wasn't far off, and hearing and seeing his mom cum hadn't helped him one bit. Once it came, he knew trying to hold back would be futile. "Screw me, do me harder, stud," Sharon urged him, "Fill me with cum, you horny motherfucker." Kevin heard Kelly giggle at this. He blushed, felt lucky that his face was flushed from all the sex. He wasn't a motherfucker. He was a motherfucking voyeur, though! Meanwhile, Alan was coming to the end of his tether inside Evelyn's tight pussy. Despite being very slippery from Kevin's cum, she was still amazingly vice-like, and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Oh Jesus, yes, yeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" He gave a triumphant roar at his second cum of the night, driven higher as he felt Evelyn's grasping cunt ripple into orgasm as he filled her again with sticky sperm. It dribbled out and dripped down her thighs. "Yeah, that's it, Alan, fill me with cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmm!" She cried, her pussy trying to suck more and more from him. "CHRIST!" Alan gasped, amazed at the power of his climax, "Fuckin' hell!" His pulsing erection spat forth almost a dozen jets of cum before he was finished, his balls at least partially emptied of their hot load. He raised one hand and slapped Evelyn's upturned ass, leaving a hot red handprint. He had fucked her numerous times before and knew that she loved pain right during orgasm. With his flagging tool up her pussy still, Alan leaned forwards and placed a row of kisses up Evelyn's back. He looked up to see John looming over them, his stiff cock in Kelly's hand. "Good one, buddy?" John asked. "As always!" Kevin hit his climax right then, and they all looked over to see his upturned ass twitching as he delivered a milky load into Sharon's bowels. Her ass seemed to suck it up, and none leaked out. He kept her stoppered for a brief moment before noticing everyone - including his mom - was watching him. Pulling his now-flagging cock out, he grinned as he saw Sharon's now red anal ring wink shut. He was going to enjoy fucking ass. "I think it's my turn with that little lady," John said and crossed over to Sharon. He had her lie back, her arms above her head, while he sucked and licked at her tits before finally, at the urging of the others, drove his pecker into her spermy pussy. There was an awkward moment as mother and son looked at each other. They realized that the next obvious combination in everyone's eyes would be the boyfriend and girlfriend. Except that they weren't lovers, they were family. They were both amazed that they could even look at one another. Kevin's flagging cock was coated in his own sperm, and the cooze of two women. Kelly's pussy was red and sore from the pounding she had gotten. Both looked sweaty and tired and tousled. Alan and Evelyn were looking expectantly at them...

PART II

Authors/chiclit/MMMM2.txt

Island Fever 5: Family

...Ariel was back in the hospital with another illness. After everything that happened to Kristanna over the past 11 days - from having to go through an induced birth only to then watch our premature, infant daughter be ripped away from us and spend the first 72 hours of her life in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) of the hospital, and the horrible, constant fear of knowing Ariel had been diagnosed with a breathing abnormality that could strike at any given moment, my wife had made amazing strides this week in getting back to her normal, everyday self. Kristanna's quick wit and humor, her vivacious personality, had been making a comeback of sorts thanks in large part to the network of love and support our family provided. We were adjusting to life as the parents of a premature infant, knowing any little problem could turn into something major. It had been a struggle for her, for us, yet Kristanna was slowly but surely overcoming it. But with Ariel having been rushed to the emergency room earlier today, all of that progress had been lost. Kristanna was in shambles; she was, quite simply, a train wreck. It all started this morning when, after her 11:00am feeding, Ariel got sick and vomited. She seemed to become really animated and fussy afterward, much more so than normal. Kristanna held and soothed our daughter, trying to get her to settle down and relax, but things soon became downright scary when Ariel began making audible wheezing sounds with nearly every breath. Considering how she had already been diagnosed with periodic breathing - an ailment that included pauses in breathing for up to 10 seconds at a time - Kristanna panicked. She cried out for Scarlett - a registered nurse and the self-appointed doctor for our family - to come rushing in and take a look at Ariel. When she did, Scarlett offered a quick visual evaluation and noticed that Ariel's little fingernails had a shade of blue across them. Scarlett, suddenly appearing grim and distraught, told us to dial 113 (the equivalent of 911 in the United States). Ariel needed prompt medical care; she had to go via ambulance to Oslo Universitetssykehus HF (Oslo University Hospital). After being admitted and given an initial screening in the emergency room, Ariel was then transferred to the adjacent children's wing of the massive medical facility. With a colorful, nature-inspired backdrop, the fourth level of the center was dubbed den Blе Fugl gulv (the Blue Bird floor) and featured a kidney center, sleep study center and the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU), with some 82 critical care beds and rooms for children of all ages. Colors were bright and popped everywhere, no doubt in order to stimulate the senses of the young patients found here. Following three hours of testing, including a chest X-ray, blood gas treatment and samples of mucus and nasal discharge, the doctor informed Kristanna and I that Ariel was suffering from bronchiolitis. An acute inflammatory infection of the lower respiratory tract, bronchiolitis occurs when a virus overtakes the bronchioles, which are the smallest airways branching off from the main breathing ducts within the lungs. The physician explained to us in detail that when bronchioles become swollen and inflamed, and clogged with mucus (hence the wheezing sounds), it can become difficult for air to flow freely into and out of the lungs. But Ariel, who definitely did not deserve any of this, was also diagnosed with acrocyanosis. Acrocyanosis refers to the bluish discoloration of the hands, feet and/or nail-beds. What it meant, we were told, was that oxygen was flowing slowly through the peripheral capillary beds within the blood vessels to her hands (thus the reason her fingernails were blue). Sufficient blood was still passing through so the tissue in her hands would not starve for oxygen and/or die. Still, that part of her body - her hands - was not getting the proper amount of bloodflow, or enough oxygen. The doctor was hoping that Ariel's acrocyanosis condition was tied to her bronchiolitis, and theorized that it was. On its own, he told us, there was no definitive treatment or cure for acrocyanosis. It was something that simply needed to be managed. But he was hopeful that by treating her for bronchiolitis, the acrocyanosis would go away as well. However, since bronchiolitis was a viral infection, antibiotics were useless against it. Still, the physician gave our daughter corticosteroids which helped clear the lungs of mucus, reduce inflammation and open the affected airways. Ariel was also connected to a humidified oxygen unit and had an I-V in her arm to help combat dehydration. All we could do now was wait. The doctor informed us that Ariel would not be returning home today. She had to stay overnight in the PICU for treatment and observation - at least. Expect a three or four day stay, he told us, but he and the rest of the staff would do their absolute best to ensure that Ariel was back home with us as soon as possible. Kristanna was not the only one about to lose it. What added to my problems, as well as Kristanna's, was that there was suddenly a lot of infighting between our group of wives over who exactly should be here at the hospital with us, giving us support. The PICU at this particular hospital allowed us to create a list of up to four visitors, but no more. Only these four people were permitted to be in the room with Ariel at any given time. Two of them were a given, of course - Kristanna and yours truly. We chose Kaden for the third simply because he was Ariel's big brother. He was not a half-brother or half-sister, such as Piper or the other children. The fourth? An all-out war seemed to be going on back home over who it should be. Apparently, Pamela and Lindsay were at the forefront of it. Lindsay, who was none too pleased when Pamela and Devon stayed with Kristanna and I throughout the whole process of her labor induction and subsequent birth of Ariel nearly two weeks ago, was rather adamant about being the fourth person on the list. She wanted to come and visit us, and was not afraid to let the others know it, too. But Pamela demanded that it be her, citing how close she had become in recent times with Kristanna, and her strong relationship with me. Devon insisted on throwing her hat into the mix, too. Devon did not have a baby of her own, like Pamela and Lindsay did, and it would take the least amount of effort for her to visit us. Or so she said. But Amy put up an argument, too. So did Trish. They were fighting and arguing over it like I had never seen before. Yes, even Trish and Lindsay were going through a spat at the moment. There was bickering and screeching galore. I about flipped my lid when their only solution was that I be the one to pick which wife should be allowed to come here and visit us. Umm. Yes, I will pick a wife, but alienate (and greatly hurt) the rest of them in the process. No. So not going to do that. At 5:15pm on Thursday evening, Kristanna actually excused herself for a few moments, wanting to get a quick snack and a glass of iced tea from the hospital cafeteria. I offered to go and get it for her, of course, but she insisted on going herself - the walk, the little bit of exercise after such a trying day, would be beneficial for her, she said. So, I stayed behind in the PICU room with precious, little Ariel sleeping away rather peacefully in the incubator bed, several wires and tubes attached to her body. Why did my daughter look like a lab experiment?... There was a very sudden and loud commotion down the hall. When I got up to investigate by sticking my head out the door, I saw 20 or 30 doctors and nurses making a mad scramble for the room just four doors away. Someone screamed that the monitors for an innocent, helpless toddler had gone all zeroes. A moment or two later, I heard the cry of a mother who had just been told that she had lost her only child, and there was nothing the hospital staff could do to bring her back. A 19-month-old girl - the same age as Kaden - had just died. Several other concerned parents and visitors, just like me, were standing at the doorway of nearly every room. A pair of nurses quickly started at each end, going to the onlookers and quietly asking us individually that we head back into our rooms and respect the privacy of the suddenly grieving family. When the nurse on my end got to me, I frowned and nodded my head, then turned and closed the door behind me. Although the leather sofa was no more than ten feet away, my legs started to give out beneath me. I could still hear the poor mother crying through the walls. It took every last ounce of strength I had just to reach the sofa and fall into it. Immediately, emotion began pouring out of me.Not just the past two weeks, but the past two-plus years; the uncertainty of each pregnancy, Kristanna being whisked to the emergency room in April 2014 while pregnant with Kaden and the fear that she may suffer a miscarriage. Pamela giving birth to Piper in November 2014 then doing an about-face and experiencing Postpartum Depression in what should have been the happiest few weeks of her life. Amy, in May 2015, being taken to the hospital with a miscarriage scare of her own after the sudden and tragic death of Trish's father. Jackson, my son with Trish, being born with torticollis. Ariel, her birth induced, brought into the world by medicine - not by nature - four weeks before she was due. All that time in the hospital. Now, right back there again. Was this going to be a common place for us, for her, in the years ahead? And of course, that poor mother down the hall - and her husband - having just lost their 19-month-old daughter. I did not even know their names or what the initial diagnosis and/or problem was, but I felt miserable inside because of it. That, combined with everything else, had me crying like there was no tomorrow. I felt sick, my body racked with pain. Kristanna found me moments later a mess and immediately assumed that something happened to our own daughter, Ariel. I explained what occurred just a few doors down when she was off snacking in the cafeteria. Kristanna and I sat there on the sofa, Ariel still sleeping away beside us, and simply sobbed and prayed for that grieving mother and her family. With the door open again, nurses and doctors walked by our room, but did not intervene. They probably saw this a lot more often than we thought. They understood. My cell phone buzzed. It was a text from Lindsay. "plz Jeremy choose me, its my turn and i deserve to be with you and K for a change." Kristanna, knowing the power struggle that was going on back home and that I had been thrown into the middle of it by being asked to choose which wife should be allowed to visit us, saw the text and then snatched the device from me. It was the latest in a long line of texts I had received from not only Lindsay, but most of the others as well. Kristanna dialed Lindsay's number and stormed off to the side. I will not go into the exacting details of the discussion, but let me just say it began like this. "Just who in the FUCK do you think you and Pamela are, Lindsay, acting like a bunch of spoiled, selfish brats, when Jeremy and I are here in the hospital with Ariel being so sick? You want to trade places? DO YOU? Think how you would feel if it was Kaylee here instead with a hundred wires sticking in her! HOW WOULD YOU FEEL? Would you appreciate others at home arguing and bickering like SELFISH BITCHES?" Over the next few moments, I believe Kristanna got her point across and was able to show Lindsay the error of her ways. "I don't want ANY of you to come and visit us if all you're going to do is fight and argue about it, and try to get Jeremy involved, too. That's not what our family is about, what it stands for. Stop being so selfish!" By this time, Lindsay had Kristanna on speakerphone, and everyone was listening. Even Alison. "It's the PICU's rule - not ours - only four visitors can be defined for a single patient. Whether Ariel is here for a day or whether Ariel is here for a month, she can only have four visitors. THAT'S IT. Stop being greedy and respect the fact that Jeremy and I have a lot going on at the moment, and we DON'T NEED your fighting. We NEED all of you to help SUPPORT us." "Now if you can be civil about it, pick someone," Kristanna told them in closing. "But only if you can be civil and act like adults. I want to see my son. I want Kaden here with us. Someone please bring my boy to me so he can see his baby sister, and we can see him. Text Jeremy back with whomever is coming so we can let the hospital know." "I think you should go," I heard Lindsay say. "No, you should go," Pamela retorted. "What about Amy?" Trish suggested. Kristanna ended the telephone call and breathed a sigh of relief. "Now THAT sounds like the ladies we're in love with. All working together to solve the issue, putting others first. Let's see who they decide gets to come and visit us, Jeremy." Although Kristanna attended a support group for parents of premature babies for the first time just last evening, I had refused to go. I did not need it, I told her. I had it all under control. So I thought. Until today, when my legs gave out from under me upon hearing that unknown mother's cry from down the hall when told that her daughter had passed away. What if that had been us? What if that had been Ariel? As we went for a walk throughout the hospital's corridors later that evening, Kristanna pointed toward a sign posted next to the elevator door. On it was a date and time for a dads-only support group for very ill and at-risk children. Tomorrow morning, 10:00am. Before I could protest, Kristanna looked at me said, "You're going. They might have ideas to make Ariel feel more comfortable." On Friday, I reluctantly went to the conference hall where the dad's group was being held. A young woman introduced herself as Agnieszka and asked if I was there for the support group. In my most unwilling tone, I told her I was not sure. In her bubbly and optimistic manner, Agnieszka told me I could sit out all here morning, or I could go in and listen, and enjoy some of the free snacks that the cafeteria provided. During that meeting, I learned quite a lot. Then a guest speaker arrived. It was not his large physical stature that occupied the room, but his presence. He introduced himself as Akam to everyone in the room. And he asked us, the four dads in attendance, to share our stories. I was the last to take the spotlight. I spoke briefly of Ariel's time in the NICU and the fact that, less than a week after being released, she was right back in the hospital with a new illness. I mentioned Kristanna, my beloved wife, and the massive struggle she had endured. I told the group how much Kristanna meant to me, and that it was difficult to watch her go through this very rough stretch. Akam thanked me, then told his own story. Akam had been the father of premature twins, a boy and a girl. They rode the proverbial roller coaster of emotions throughout the ups and downs of life in the NICU. Just a few days before the twins were to come home, with both of them thriving, the hospital called and insisted that Akam and his wife get there immediately because they were unsure how much longer they could keep the boy alive. Once they arrived, the doctors explained that their son had taken a very drastic, unexpected turn for the worse, and there was nothing they could do to save him. So that night, with their daughter healthy and set to go home soon, Akam and his wife held their infant son in their arms until he gently passed away. The large man stood before us in the conference hall and cried his eyes out as if it had just happened today. Again, what if that had been Ariel? Kaden? Piper? Or any of my other precious, darling children?... But then Akam said something to us that I will never, ever forget. "When your sons or daughters get through this very difficult stage and are healthy, living their lives and full of vibrant energy, and you are in a good spot yourself, please keep the dads' group alive. Whether it is by coming back to the hospital to speak or by sharing your story online, please help another dad cope with his own emotions." Perhaps that is why I decided to devote this chapter to Ariel and her unexpected hospital visit. As I passed through the waiting room en route to returning to Kristanna and Ariel after the meeting, I saw two dads with that scared, worried look in their eyes - the one only a dad of a very sick child can truly understand. I knew their pain, their frustration. This chapter is for them, and all fathers like them. You may never feel comfortable asking. You may never think anyone understands. But know that it is okay to feel. It is okay to hurt and it is okay, in your own, specific way, and in your own time, to allow the emotions to come pouring out. You are not alone. You are never alone. And I hope that if you are reading this, you find comfort with what I say. When I made my way back to the hospital room, Ariel was awake and alert, with Kristanna and Kaden at her bedside. Kristanna, bouncing a quiet and sullen Kaden on her knee (he was concerned for his sister), was singing a nursery rhyme to Ariel. "Baa, baa, black sheep. Have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir. Three bags full! One for the master. And one for the dame. And one for the little boy. Who lives down the lane!" Kristanna definitely loved to sing, and had a good voice to boot. Kaden had always enjoyed his mother's singing. "Hi Jeremy," Kristanna greeted me. "How did your meeting go? Learn anything at the support group?" "Well... I'm definitely glad I went to the meeting," I told her, reaching down and swooping Kaden into my arms. I held our son close, adding, "And I learned not to take anything in our lives for granted. Everything we have needs to be cherished on a daily basis." I kissed the side of Kaden's head and glanced down at Ariel. "Any news from the doctor?" "He says Ariel is doing much better," Kristanna sighed. "The wheezing is gone. Her lungs are clearing up. The nurse showed me how to clear Ariel's nose with a suction bulb so it causes her no discomfort at all. It pulls any stuffing, any sickness, out of her sinuses. And she also showed me how to safely administer saline nose drops. Those are things we will need to do when Ariel is released and goes home with us.""The nurse said that she will be back later to show you, too." "Don't be sad," I said to Kaden in a calm, cool voice, as I watched him look down at his sister with a heavy frown. Kaden seemed really uncomfortable and fidgety right now. "Ariel is going to be fine, Kaden. The hospital and the doctors, the nurses, are going to fix her up, and she will be all well." "He doesn't like seeing all those wires in her," Kristanna pouted. "Or the breathing tube. It's upsetting to him." "You're a good big brother," I told Kaden with a smile. "You love your baby sister, don't you?" The 19-month-old nodded his head and tossed his arms around my neck, burying his face upon my shoulder. He began crying immediately. "Oh, Kaden!" Kristanna frowned. "Ariel is going to be all right! She is coming home with us in a day or two..." "Why don't you and I go to the romper room, Kaden, where all those toys are?" Kristanna's mother, Rande, suggested. "Remember all those fun toys?" Ultimately, our collection of wives back home decided that the fourth and final person on the visitor's list should not be one of them, but rather Kristanna's mother, Rande. I actually applaud them for making such an excellent choice. Rande brought Kaden to the hospital to visit Ariel and us last night, and again this morning. "Yeah, let's go and play with those toys," Rande nodded, taking Kaden from my arms. "Let's give Mommy and Daddy a little time by themselves to spend with Ariel. Okay?" "I love you, wild man!" Kristanna chirped at him, smiling. As Rande took Kaden out of the room, he wiped his tears away and waved a temporary goodbye to us. "Have fun with Grandma," I called out, waving as well. "Mom got really angry at me earlier," Kristanna said once we were alone in the room with Ariel. "Oh? What happened?" "She started talking about God and His magical healing powers, about His ability to cure all that is wrong. But I told Mom that it seemed with everything that has gone on - from the Strep B diagnosis and my water breaking early, Ariel having to be born a month premature because of it, her time in the NICU, her breathing issue and now the fact she is right back in the hospital again..." Kristanna sighed and shook her head in remorse, fighting back the tears. "I told Mom that it seems God is trying to... take Ariel away... from me, from us. God is trying to steal my sunshine. And Mom got really upset I would say such a thing." "You can't feel that way," I responded, extending both arms and embracing my wife gently. "But what if this is our life from now on?" Kristanna quaked. "What if..." Now, it was Kristanna's turn to start crying. "What if... wh-what if Ariel is in and out of th-the hospital for the n-n-next several y-y-ears with... sickness after... sickness?" Kristanna shook her head. "You know all the research you and I have done on premature babies, Jeremy. Some of those stories we read on the Internet from parents were pure, total horror. Hospital stay after hospital stay, surgeries, learning and growing deficiencies, lifetime disabilities and illnesses... Ariel does not deserve this!" Kristanna became really emotional, ending, "I FEEL AS IF I'VE FAILED AT BEING A PROPER MOTHER FOR ARIEL!" "Hey, settle down!" I exclaimed at Kristanna, now holding her as tightly and as warmly as I could. "Ariel is right here with us; please don't get upset and possibly upset her, too." I then rocked Kristanna in my arms, telling her, "You haven't failed at anything. You're an awesome mother for Kaden and you're an awesome mother for Ariel. That little girl loves you. You are her everything, her protector; she knows you more than anyone or anything. It's not your fault Ariel was born premature. It's not anyone's fault, really. You are the best mother Ariel could possibly have right now. You need to stay strong, Krissy, and get through this. I trust this all will pass. I have faith Ariel is going to have a normal, healthy childhood, and grow up perfectly fine." Still upset, Kristanna balled up a pair of fists and hit my shoulders with them. "AND WHAT IF SHE'S NOT FINE? You cannot sit there and guarantee me that Ariel will be fine!" "Then you and I will deal with it together," I told her. "And we will have the full backing, the support, of our family, plus your mom and dad, your sister, my dad. But it won't come to that. Ariel will be fine." There was a long stretch where Kristanna did nothing but continue to cry while I held her and did my best to keep my own emotions in check. But soon, I began to crack. I admit, I had my doubts too. What if Kristanna was right and I was wrong? What if Ariel's future consisted of nothing but... "I HATE THIS PLACE!" Kristanna suddenly erupted into my chest, her face plastered there, her voice muffled. "I HATE THE HOSPITAL! Nothing but pure MISERY and APATHY here!" Tears began streaking down my own face as I feared Kristanna, my wife, was losing control of herself. She needed more help right now than I could provide her. "I hate the sounds! Beeps, whistles, whooshes, ventilator noises! I even hate the sound of the door down the hall, the click of the lock every time someone comes or goes! I hate the ding of the elevator! And this place smells like disinfectant and coffee. I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS PLACE! I JUST WANT TO TAKE ARIEL HOME WITH US, AND FOR EVERYTHING TO BE OKAY!" Indeed, Kristanna did lose control. I glanced down at Ariel, who somehow had fallen back asleep. That was good, at least. She did not need to witness this. But I had to get Kristanna out of here, even if just for a little while. It was time to call in the cavalry. While they may not have been allowed to visit Ariel in her room, there was nothing preventing our collection of wives (as well as Alison and all of the children) from having a family lunch with us in the hospital cafeteria. One telephone call and the whole gang could be here in 30 minutes or less, I trusted. It would do both Kristanna and I a world of good right now to see the likes of Pamela and Lindsay, as well as the others. Kristanna put up a protest, but I slung one arm around her and literally had to drag her out of the hospital room. Though still crying uncontrollably, Kristanna began walking with me toward the exit of the pediatric intensive care unit. She too, realized that it was best to step away for a while. Along the way, a nurse passed us and gave me a sympathetic nod. Again, she knew. That nurse probably saw parents like Kristanna crying hysterically - overcome with grief, fear, sheer anxiety - on a daily basis. What could possibly be worse than having your child in a hospital bed? I thought about that nurse for a moment, as well as the primary physician who had been overseeing Ariel's treatment since she was admitted yesterday. We knew him as Dr. Zafar. There had been a couple of different nurses assigned to Ariel in the PICU. First it was Monica and then Valeska, and since 7:00am this morning, it had been Ann Marie. These amazing people, and others like them, dedicate their lives to helping and saving others in need. For however broken various medical systems seem to be across the globe, doctors and nurses are perpetually the bright spot, the shining beacon of light. They spend a tremendous amount of their time within the walls of the hospital because of a calling; the calling to change lives and enhance futures. When I was a young child, I was under the impression that superheroes come with bulging muscles and flashy red capes. But as an adult, I have realized that they oftentimes come in surgical caps and scrubs. Thank you for your enormous dedication. Thank you for all those years you sacrificed learning and then perfecting your craft. Thank you for taking care of my daughter. And thank you for making your life about making hers better.

Chapter 14: "Comfort"

Authors/JeremyDCP/IF5-P14.txt

Lazlo Zalezak

John Carter

... to open that door behind which lies a frightening strength. All he knows is what all people know. He knows the strength that flows into the body when pushed into a rage. Fearlessness comes and allows him to lash out at all around him. He knows the regret following devastation and hates the harm caused by such an unthinking fury. There is the guilt that comes afterward. Rage is not the only key that enables the power to escape. Fear for others allows one to perform heroic feats of strength. The parent, out of fear for their child, is strong enough to lift a car. There is the survival instinct that allows one to run for miles when chased by an enemy. There is the competitive drive that can let loose this power and allow an exhausted athlete to complete the race. There is the sacrifice that can save many at the expense of self. The soldier throws himself on the grenade to save his comrades from injury or death. He knows that the power is neutral. It can be used for good and for evil with equal ease. It is a two-edged sword. Unlike a real sword, he cannot be trained in the use and mastery of this tool. Without training, the power cannot be aimed to achieve good ends. Hence, it is a power that must be contained by an iron will. Only specific circumstances can destroy the will that binds this power, and it is in those circumstances that it is most destructive. Destruction aimed at others will turn and become self-destructive. This he knows in the same way that others know, from experience. The trail from last night's campsite to today's destination was familiar to him. He had walked it five years before, and little had changed. New generations of squirrels had come and gone, yet to his eyes they could have been the same squirrels he encountered then. It is a fact of life that a particular individual does not matter in the grand scheme of things. Nature cannot operate in any other fashion. For nature to be robust, it cannot depend upon a single individual. To do so would make it fragile. Only individuals value one over another. His walking stick made a soft thud as it struck the dirt. Occasionally, the walking stick would make a sharp click when the brass tip would hit stone. His pace was easy, but he approached his destination steadily. He would be there on time. An observer would consider him fearless, but he feared what he would find on his arrival. Would the Goddess be angered that he had allowed harm to come to his medallion? Perhaps it was time that he, like a squirrel, was replaced by a new generation. With such thoughts, he walked through the woods towards his destination. Then, with one step, he transitioned to that other place. The colors brightened, the sounds intensified, and the air was cooler. He took a deep breath through his nose, catching scents normally hidden to the human nose. The air hinted at mystery. He took a few hesitant steps, not recalling the way to the stream. A naked man stepped free of the cover provided by the trees. John recognized that it was the same man that had broken the chain to his medallion. The man was huge and built like a bear. Thick black hair covered most of his body. Broad shoulders and strong arms completed the resemblance. His flaccid cock, impossibly large, hung over balls the size of oranges. He gestured for John to follow. They walked along a faint path through the woods. John kept his distance. He feared the man, knowing that he could break John like a twig if he so desired. Soon, they arrived at a stream through a clearing next to the woods. This was the same place John had been raped by the woman. He looked for her, but she was not in sight. The man turned and looked at John. The flaccid cock had swelled with blood to a full erection. No human male could boast of such a huge erection. Before John had a chance to react, the man grabbed him by the hair and pushed him down roughly to his knees. His cry of outrage was stopped by the introduction of a rigid cock into his mouth. He struggled to get away, but the cock was relentless in its thrusting. He grabbed the balls that hung below the cock and squeezed. His efforts had no effect. He bit down, but it was like trying to bite through a steel rod. The cock forced itself deeper into his mouth. The cock inched its way down his throat. He started to gag, but the reflex was suddenly killed. Now the man used his hold on John's hair to rock his head on the cock. John's energies were spent trying to breathe rather than trying to escape. It seemed like hours that his mouth was ravaged before the man groaned and released his cum into his mouth. His throat worked of its own volition to swallow the man's cum. When the cock was finally pulled from his mouth, John attempted to speak. His attempt was cut off as he was spun in the air. His pants and underwear were torn from his body in one swift move. He struggled, but to no effect. He screamed as the cock penetrated his ass. It was pushed to the hilt in one rapid thrust. The pain was intense. It felt like a baseball bat had been shoved up his ass. He was spun around to find himself looking up at the man. He watched as the man grunted as he thrust hard into his ass. He struggled to free himself from the man's grasp, but the grip on him was made of iron. The ass fucking continued for hours. His own cock began to erect. His mind rebelled, but his body acted on its own. The man grabbed John's cock and started to pull on it. His grip was hard, and it felt like he was trying to rip the cock from John's body. The pulls on his cock were timed to coincide with the thrusts in his ass. Finally, John's body performed its final betrayal. He shot cum high into the air. At the same time, the man unloaded his cum in John's ass. Each time the man pulled John's cock, John ejaculated again. Repeatedly, for at least an hour, John ejaculated into the air. Finally, the man stopped his actions and withdrew. With the cessation of activities, the man dropped John to the ground. John lay there, his balls in pain from the excessive milking they had received. His shirt soaked with his own cum. When John looked up, the man was holding his medallion in one hand. John reached for it. The man threw it in the air. John's eyes followed the flight of the medallion to the top of a huge cliff. John turned and looked at the man. The man pointed to the top of the cliff. He wanted John to retrieve the medallion. Afraid that he would be raped again if he hesitated, John decided to go after it without further prompting. John stood up on shaky legs. His ass hurt, his cock was sore, and his mouth tasted of cum. He was wearing a shirt and his shoes. His pants and underwear were gone. His backpack was still on his back. He walked to the base of the cliff and looked up. It seemed impossibly high. He glanced once at the man and then started to climb. The climb was easy at first. He took his time and conserved his energy for later. As he climbed, the footholds and handholds became smaller, making the climb more difficult. Little cracks in the wall were home to scorpions and spiders. They crawled out and attempted to sting his hands. He used his knife to clear the handholds of the insects. As sweat started to run down his face and into his eyes, he had to work more carefully. It was with an initial sense of relief that the handholds became larger. Then, as he reached for one of them, he heard the telltale rattle of a rattlesnake. He held the knife to his body to warm it. With considerable caution, he lifted the knife up. The snake struck at the knife. In striking, the snake overextended beyond its ability to recover and fell over the edge to the ground below. More snakes were coiled on handholds above him. He repeated his actions, one handhold and one snake at a time. He finally came to a large ledge on which he could stand. Climbing onto it, he found a dead cat, its head crushed by a rock. It was a stripped tabby, and his shoulders sagged with sadness at the sight. Next to the cat were three kittens. There was a tawny, a tiger-striped, and a black kitten. The kittens would not be able to survive on their own. John removed his backpack and carefully placed the kittens in it. They fought and scratched at first, but he calmed them down by making gentle sounds to them. They were too young to be wild or to have gone feral. Their eyes had probably been open for only a day or two. He closed his backpack, making sure that the kittens could breathe and yet couldn't get out. As he moved around on the ledge, a rock came hurtling down. It missed him by mere inches. He signed a breath of relief at his narrow escape. He moved again, and another rock flew past him. He had assumed the first rock was the result of something moving above him. The second suggested something a little more sinister.He looked up in time to see a man leaning out of a cave throw a rock at him. He ducked out of the way just in time. He looked around trying to decide what to do. Small outcroppings of rock dotted the wall of the cliff. He climbed sideways until the outcropping was between him and the man. Rocks continued to rain down upon him. The outcropping protected him from the rocks, but the handholds were tiny and far apart. He struggled up, the strain on his fingers almost beyond his ability to withstand. When he reached one outcropping, he had to climb sideways to get beneath another. Those were nervous times as rocks fell around him. His progress up the cliff had slowed to a near standstill. Despite his seeming lack of progress, he persevered. Slowly, he approached the cave from which the man was throwing rocks. He climbed towards the cave. He reached a crease in the rock face that ran next to the cave. He entered it and was then able to climb without fear of thrown rocks. The crease stopped a little above the mouth of the cave. He realized that if he left the crease, the man could reach out and hit him with a stone. That would end his climb. He reached out and grabbed the side of the cave. With an effort that nearly drained his remaining energy, he swung himself into the cave. The wild man inside attacked him immediately. John fought to subdue the man. The man fought to kill John. His eyes shone with a madness that denied any suggestion of rationality. As the man scratched, kicked, bit, and hit, John resisted. He grabbed John and tried to strangle him. John threw the man off. The wild man stumbled backwards out the mouth of the cave and fell to the ground below. John slumped to the ground breathing hard. His efforts had nearly drained him. He was tired, sore, and hungry. His eyes took in the cave looking for anything that could help him in his situation. There was nothing but loose stones. His attention was suddenly grabbed by a sound from deep within the cave. It was the sound of a person running. John stood up and waited, hoping that this person was more reasonable than the last. His hopes were dashed when the man immediately threw himself at John. The struggle was shorter as John was less willing to try to subdue the man. Again, the other man was only stopped when he was thrown out the mouth of the cave. This repeated itself as one man, or sometimes two men, ran from the back of the cave intent on killing John. He fought only to keep from getting killed. The wild men fought on until they were thrown to the ground below. He drew upon reserves that he did not know he possessed. He never intentionally killed the men, he only tried to subdue them. There came a time when he stood poised for the next man and no one came. It was over. He did not trust the peace enough to rest there. John went to the mouth of the cave and looked up at the top of the cliff. It was only ten feet above him. He started climbing. In seconds, his arms began trembling with fatigue. His legs shook. He pulled himself up a foot. His fingers cramped as pulling up his weight stressed them. Pain shot through his arms. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. His vision blurred. He moved a foot up seeking some small outcropping or crack that would support his weight. Looking down only allowed more sweat to run into his eyes. He found a small crack and lifted himself up. He felt the rock above him with numb fingers as he searched for another handhold. He struggled to climb. Each foot of progress upward sapped his strength. For a well-rested man, this portion of the climb would have been easy. For a tired man, it was murder. He finally reached the top and pulled himself over. He lay there with his feet hanging over the edge. He didn't care; he was past caring. He lay there for thirty minutes before dragging himself upright. He looked down at himself. His scarred legs were scratched and bruised. His fingers were bloody stubs. A fingertip looked like it had been bitten off. The tip of a bone was visible through the meaty flesh of his finger. He looked around at his surroundings. He was on top of a mesa that rose impossibly high out of a forest. The plateau on which he stood was less than a hundred feet across. It was flat and featureless, covered by scrub brush. There was only a single tree. He opened his backpack to check on the kittens. They were curled up and asleep in his pack. He looked over them and wondered what he would do with them. He had no milk. At least they had survived to this point in time. He put on his backpack and went in search of the medallion. It wasn't long before he found it lying on the ground near the center of the mesa top. He knelt down and picked it up. He looked at it and saw the chain had been repaired, but the medallion had changed. The man who had sent him on this task appeared next to him. He took the medallion from John and placed it around his neck. He stated, "John Carter, you have learned compassion and used it to help people. Now it is time for you to discover your strength and use it to protect people." John was bent over; his hands on knees as he listened. He couldn't catch his breath. The sweat ran in a river, dripping off his nose. At that moment, he didn't feel like he had any strength. The man smiled at him and then stated, "You have done well, it is time for you to rest, John Carter." He woke stretched out under a tree next to the clearing. He was rested and felt good. He was fully dressed with the clothes that he had been wearing, but they were clean and like new. His hands were healed. He slowly became aware of a low rumbling noise and a pressure on his thigh. He slowly sat up and looked down at his thigh expecting to find his backpack. Instead, he found a full-grown cougar. It was a beautiful example of its species. The tawny brown coat was thick and glowed with a healthy luster. He estimated that it was somewhere between 175 and 190 pounds. It was asleep with its head lying on his thigh. The low rumbling sound was a purr. His heart raced as he tried to figure out what to do. The very last thing he wanted to do was to surprise the cat. A cat that big could do significant damage to an unarmed man. He searched for his backpack hoping that he could get to his knife. It was too far out of his reach. His walking stick was on the ground next to him. He grabbed it and tried to use it to move his pack closer. The movement must have woken the cat. The pressure suddenly disappeared from his thigh and the purring sound stopped. John slowly turned his head to find the cat sitting and watching him. John stayed frozen in place, but the cat never moved. Deciding it was time to take a chance, he stood. The cat watched him stand, but made no other movement. John took a hesitant step away. The cat stood and approached him. With a sudden move, the cat rubbed his head against John's leg. John was astounded. He took several more steps. The cat followed him, staying within a hand's reach. When he walked, the cat followed. When he stopped, the cat sat down. When he took a step forward, the cat just watched. John decided to continue his planned trip into the town where his car was parked. If the cat came with him, so be it. If the cat attacked, there wasn't much he could do except fight back. Attacking the cat would only serve to start trouble. He stepped over to his backpack and opened it. He peered inside to see if there were any kittens in it. There weren't. He closed the pack and swung it into place on his back with practiced ease. He turned towards the trail and set out. The cat glided beside him, keeping pace easily. John watched him out of the corner of his eye. He reached the end of the trail and stepped onto a sidewalk. He expected the cat to return to the woods. The cat, despite John's expectations, stayed with him. In a few minutes, he was walking down the street. John wondered how the cat would react to city noises. A car drove by, but the cat paid no attention to it. His destination, the restaurant where he met Lily, was only a few feet away. He looked down at the cat and pondered his situation. Should he go into the restaurant? If he did, would the cat follow him in? Then he decided that he didn't care, it was foolish to let a cat dictate his life. He opened the door to the restaurant and stepped in. The cat squeezed between him and the door so that they entered the restaurant together. John caught his reflection in the same mirror that had hung there on his first visit here. He knew enough this time to expect changes and not to spend much time marveling over his new appearance. He made a quick inventory, his beard was totally white now and he had two streaks of white in his hair. He wondered what changes had occurred that he couldn't see. He walked over to the counter. No one was visible. Hesitant to enter the kitchen, he called out, "George? Martha?" It was several minutes before Martha came out from the kitchen. She looked a little flustered. Her face and upper chest showed clear signs of a sex-induced blush. As she walked, she tucked her blouse into her skirt. She looked over at him for a second and then a smile spread across her face, "Is that you John?" "Yes, ma'am," replied John. He was pleased that Martha remembered him. She shouted out, "Hey, George. Get out here. It's John Carter." George came out of the kitchen. He extended his hand across the counter in a friendly gesture, "Hello, John. It's good to see you again." John took his hand and shook it. George actually looked younger than the last time he had seen him. He smiled, "It's good to see you again. How are things going?" "Good." "Great. I saw Lily a couple of months ago. She looked really good."George and Martha smiled at the memory of the unexpected vacation. Martha asked, "Can we get you something to eat?" John nodded, "That would be great. I'll take soup and an egg salad sandwich. My friend here will take six pounds of raw meat." George looked around and didn't see anyone. John pointed down at the cat. It was seated on the floor next to him. George leaned over the counter, "Jesus H. Christ. Where did you get that?" John shrugged, "He followed me here. Do you know of anyone that lost a pet cougar?" "No. I don't even know anyone crazy enough to have a pet cougar." John shook his head. "Strangest thing in the world. I woke up this morning and he had his head on my leg purring like a freight train. He hasn't let me out of his sight since then." George laughed, "Coming from anyone else, I wouldn't believe that story. Knowing you, I have to believe." Martha asked, "Will he attack me if I try to pet him?" John shrugged, "I really don't know. I haven't tried to pet him or anything myself. I thought that by coming into town, he'd run away. He didn't." George shook his head, "Well, I'll fix you a bowl of soup and an egg salad sandwich. I'll see what I've got that he'll like." John sat down on one of the chairs. The cat leaned its head against his thigh and started purring. John slowly edged a hand down and rubbed it behind the ears. The purr grew even louder. Martha watched the cat fascinated. She whispered, "It sure seems tame." "I have no idea if it is or not. I'm working on the assumption that it is wild." George came out with a couple of dishes. He set the soup and sandwich in front of John and a huge plate of raw hamburger on the counter next to him. John grabbed the plate and set it on the floor. The cat started eating right away. John turned his attention to the vegetable soup. He remembered the last time he had come here and Lily had served him. He took a bite of his sandwich and made an appreciative sound. He glanced down at the cat. It had finished the whole pile of hamburger. He looked up at George and smiled, "I think he likes your lack of cooking." George laughed, "First time I've ever gotten that as a compliment." John laughed, "Well, I like your cooking." Martha kept watching the cat. She turned to George, "Can I get one?" George shook his head, "If we get a cat, it's going to be a whole lot smaller than that one." John finished his lunch and leaned on the counter. He looked around the room and noticed some changes. The floor had new tile, the walls were painted, and the chairs replaced. He stated, "You guys have made some major changes around here." George smiled, "After your last visit here, we looked around at the place and realized that we had let it get a little run down. I guess it was the cleaning you did there in the kitchen. Anyway, we started taking a week vacation every once in a while. While we are gone, we have a crew come in to fix things up. Business has picked up and we're doing better than ever." John smiled, "Good. That's very nice. I bet you enjoy the vacations too." Martha smiled, "Yes. It reminded us why we got married." George laughed, "Yeah. We had gotten to the point where I was the cook and she was the waitress. We had forgotten that we were husband and wife. You and Lily helped remind us of that." "How's that?" Martha giggled, "It might have been all of those sounds coming out of the RV." John blushed and wondered how a fifty-year-old woman's giggle could embarrass him so easily. He wondered if they could have heard them outside the RV. They must have been standing right next to it with their ears pressed up to the window. George smiled, "What can I say? You two were hot." John shook his head, "Well, I'm glad to know that we helped. As much as I would love to stay here and chat, I had better get going. How much do I owe you?" "Don't worry about it." "Nah, my friend here ate a lot." "How about fifteen dollars? Does that sound fair?" John shook his head. His calculation suggested that it was closer to twenty. Rather than fight about it, he agreed, "Okay, sounds fair enough." John pulled eighteen dollars out of his pocket and set it beside his plate. He stepped away from the chair. He bent down and picked up the empty plate, setting it on the counter. He turned to George and Martha, "See you guys later." "Alright, John. You take it easy." John walked to the door and opened it. The cat slipped out with him. He shook his head, "Well, cat. I guess I'm going to have to learn how to take care of a cougar. I wonder how much you are supposed to eat each day." The cat didn't bother to answer him. It just walked beside John as if it was his natural place. John watched the cougar out of the corner of his eye, expecting it to suddenly get tired of its adventure and return to the woods. John walked to the gas station where he had parked his car. The owner came out wiping some oil off his hands. Without looking up, he stated, "Well, that was five days at five dollars a day. Twenty-five dollars." John fished twenty-five dollars out of his wallet and handed it over to the owner of the gas station. The owner, after counting the money, looked up and saw the cat. He jumped back in panic, "What in the hell's that?" John smiled, "A cat. Do you know anyone who's lost a pet cougar?" "Hell no. All of my friends are sane." The owner backed away into the station the whole time he answered. He closed the door behind him. He watched John through the glass window. John smiled at the owner and opened the door of his jeep. He decided that it was time for him and the cat to part company. The cat had other ideas. The cat jumped into the car and climbed into the back. The cat took up almost the entire back seat. John stared at the cat for a minute and decided that he had just been adopted by the cat. Climbing into the jeep, he set his pack and walking stick in the passenger seat. He settled himself behind the wheel and closed the door. The drive to Jed Hart's store was only a half an hour. John spent the half-hour reviewing the events of the day. He had been raped, his medallion had been fixed, and he had become the pet of a cougar. Apparently four days had passed. Of all the events, being adopted by the cougar was the weirdest. He looked in the mirror to see the cougar looking out the window. When he arrived at the store, he pulled out the medallion from under his shirt and examined it. Now there were two of them fused together along a common edge. One medallion was unchanged. The other medallion had a picture of a mesa in the center that looked very much like an erection. Above the picture were the words "A Mesa" while below the picture were the words "To Conquer." The other side was identical except the order of the words was inverted. He said them aloud to himself, "A Mesa To Conquer. To Conquer A Mesa." He sat there pondering the meaning of the dual medallions. He guessed that he now served both the God and the Goddess. A thousand questions flooded through his mind. Unfortunately, he had no answers. He had gotten used to his life over the past five years and wondered if this meant that it was going to change in a major way. John got out of the jeep, taking the walking stick with him. He was going to slam the door shut, but the cougar followed him out. He waited until the cat was completely out of the car. He cringed at the thought of a having a full-grown cougar with its tail caught in a car door. He went into the store accompanied by the cat. As before, John was overwhelmed by the diversity of goods within the store. He walked the aisles examining the goods. He stopped to examine a gadget that looked like it might be useful, but he lifted it and decided that it was too heavy. The all-metal construction added a lot of weight. He put it back on the shelf. The cougar batted at it, making it swing back and forth. He was startled by an irritated voice behind him, "John Carter." He turned, "Jed Hart." "What are you doing here?" He had returned from his last trip because he felt that a new medallion owner was going to stop in the shop. He had to be here. John had already been provisioned with what he would need. John shouldn't be here. John stated, "Just came out of the park again." "Why did you go back?" "The chain broke on my medallion." Jed's eyebrows rose in disbelief. He argued, "Don't you know that's impossible?" John pulled out his medallion and showed it to Jed. Jed bent closely and examined it. He looked up in awe, "I've met everyone who's ever gotten one of those. You are the first I've met that has two. How did it happen?" John looked out the window. His hand idly stroked the cat behind the ears. He stated, "A God broke it at the earthquake. He sent me back to the park to get it repaired." "How do you know it was a God?" "He met me in the park." John shuddered at the memory of his rape. "You've met two of them," Jed observed. He examined John carefully and saw the slightly haunted look that comes from close contact with the Gods and Goddesses. He glanced down at the cat and didn't even react. He'd had a medallion wearer come in with a wolf and another with a bear. He stated, "Stay here. I have something for you." John looked around at the goods. The cat lay down on the floor, a paw resting on his foot. John looked down at him and said, "I guess I need to find a name for you." The cat looked up at him. John knelt down, making sure that he didn't disturb the cat. He looked at the cat and asked, "How about Monty?" The cat looked away. John suggested a number of cat names with the same lack of positive response. As a joke, he tried a different one. "How about Rover? Do you like Rover?" The cat purred and rubbed his head against John's knee. The cat actually seemed to like the name.John laughed, "Okay, I'll call you Rover." Jed returned carrying a bundle of gray cloth. He shook it out, and John saw that it was a cloak. John stood up to see it better. Jed stepped behind John and set the cloak on his shoulders. It hung down to the middle of his calf. John closed the solid silver clasp. The cloak fit perfectly. The workmanship was outstanding. In a specialty store, it would be worth thousands of dollars. Jed explained, "The material is waterproof and flame resistant. It has a hood that you can pull up. You can walk through a rainstorm and not get wet. You can walk through a fire and it will protect you for a while. The fabric is a neutral color and will blend into just about any background." John examined the cloak. He could tell that it would help keep him warm in the winter and cool in the summer. He turned to Jed, "Thank you. How much is it?" "No charge. Just like before." John shook his head, "I don't feel right just taking it." Jed frowned, "You serve in your fashion. I serve in mine." Understanding dawned on John. Jed couldn't charge him for this anymore than he could take a reward for rescuing someone. John nodded, "Well, I hope that I don't have to come by here again." Jed was brusque, "You'll never be back this way again. Who would ever get three medallions? Now you need to get on your way." John turned and extended his hand. Jed took it in a surprisingly strong grip. As they shook hands, John stated, "Thank you, Jed. May you journey far and enjoy each step." "Thank you, John. May your road be good and the weather kind."

Part 2: Mantle Of Aries, Chapter 1

Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac/John_Carter_Part_II/Mesa01.txt

Lazlo Zalezak

John Carter

... to cross that dark chasm that exists in heart and soul. There must be a greater meaning to your life than you have found thus far. So screamed an angry wind that held his heart in a frigid grasp. All he knows is what all men know. The fear of a little boy as he faces a larger one in a playground fight; more afraid of being called a coward than he is of getting hurt or losing. There is the pride and accomplishment that comes from building something new. There is the rush of power and that little thrill that comes with tearing down something old and rotten. There is the confusion that arises as a result of being asked what he feels by a woman he loves and the knowledge that his inability to answer arises from not knowing rather than an unwillingness to share. There are even simple things of life that define him, like the relief that spreads forth from his bladder when he relieves himself first thing in the morning. He knows that the urge to procreate exists in every part of his mind and body; it colors his whole view of the world. He remembers that thrill felt as a young man when he actually got his first feel of a woman's breast even though a bra covered it. There is the remembrance of the embarrassment felt as a teenager when he would get erect in class for no reason at all; the dread that everyone would know of his excited state and laugh at him. There is that sense of rightness in how his hand fits around his cock as he strokes his erection while fantasizing. There is the accompanying unease at the chance of being caught masturbating that drives him to finish as quickly as possible and abort the full potential for pleasure that the act promises. There is that catch in the throat when he looks down at a woman sucking his cock and sees that she is looking up at him with a smile in her eyes. There is that indescribable pleasure of entering a woman in that most intense act between man and woman. He fears the devastation that would come from having a woman laugh at the size of his cock or ridicule his performance as a man. He wants to deny that day when he finally becomes too old or ill to get an erection and thus prays that day will never come. He knelt beside the fire pit, a stone pressing into his right knee, irritating, but insufficient to force him to change his position. Ignoring his discomfort, he poked through the ashes looking for the dull red of a last remaining ember. In the pre-dawn light, even the faintest glow would stand out. Finding one, he worked it to the center of the pit with a small stick. He placed a small piece of dried moss upon the ember and blew gently. His breath coaxed the ember to glow a little brighter and the grayish-green moss began to smoke. Then, with the suddenness that always surprised him, it burst into a fragile flame with a weak wisp of smoke rising from it that was easily lost in the gray light. With the care that comes from long experience, he laid sticks across the wavering flame and blew gently as he resurrected the fire that had burned through the night. He rocked back until he rested buttocks on heels and gazed with simple pleasure at the result of his labor. He watched the steadily growing flame until he was satisfied that the fire needed no further care for the moment. Looking up, he watched day break over the eastern horizon; performing what had become a religious ritual. The unseen sun was lighting up the sky, painting it blue against the gray background that slowly spread upwards. He smiled at the lack of red on the horizon that according to sailor wisdom meant there would be no rain that day. A cold wind that lasted no more than three seconds disturbed the quiet air, bringing a chill that spread across his whole body. Every morning that wind blew through and he felt this indicated a magic moment. By the time the chills subsided, the sun broke the horizon signaling the beginning of a new day. Muscles stiff from holding the same position too long, he rose with great difficulty and examined the camp. From the leather case on his belt, he removed his compass and turning north, strode fifty paces into the woods; chased by the barking of squirrels disturbed by this strange presence. He looked up and spied his orange backpack hanging from a rope thrown over a branch of a stately oak. The bright yellow of the ski tow line stood out in sharp contrast to the bluish gray background of the sky and the green leaves of the oaks. He followed the rope to where it was tied on a separate tree and pulled on the free end of the rope, thereby releasing the knot. Lowering the backpack, he watched the swaying of the branch over which the rope hung. He marveled at the nature of the forces that translated his angular release into a gradual lessening of the forces sustaining the pack against the force of gravity. When the pack finally reached the ground, he went to it and retrieved the rope. He coiled the rope and replaced it in its normal position. Hefting it, at least ten pounds lighter now than two weeks ago, he deftly swung it around while slipping his arms into the straps. Having performed the act several times a day for the past month, it settled into place very naturally. As he walked back to camp, he took a little more time to watch the antics of the squirrels. Bushy tails flattened behind, ears laid back, and a ferocious look pasted across their faces, they barked their displeasure at him. These truly wild animals had not seen a human in at least ten of their generations. Unlike their tamer brethren that lived in and around cities, these squirrels would not eat any bread that he might leave out for them. Reaching his camp, he set down his backpack next to his bedroll and carefully opened it. There on the top was his metal cup and the container of coffee. He filled the cup with water from his canteen, added two spoons of the extremely finely ground coffee, and two packets of sugar. He preferred the packets of sugar as it simplified measurement, storage, and left waste that was easily burned in the fire. After burning the paper from the packets, he threw several handfuls of dirt upon a portion of the fire. He set the cup upon the dirt. The dirt would heat up and form a natural medium heat that would brew a very strong Greek coffee in about 20 minutes. Seating himself on his bedroll and next to the backpack, he removed his well-worn leather-bound journal. Once it had that fresh leather smell; now it smelled of wood smoke, leaves, and sweat. He opened it to the first black pages and removed the pen from the penholder built into the spine of the book. Checking his watch, he wrote: June 21 6:45 AM I stayed up late last night watching the stars. The night was very clear and the stars presented themselves in all their glory. I never fail to have that sense of wonder that I imagine primitive man had when he first stared up at the night sky and realized that the stars were more than just décor but were something magical. The moon was full and so bright that you could have read a newspaper. Amazing what you see when you leave the lights of the city. Just before falling asleep, I saw a most amazing sight. Three meteors simultaneously raced across the sky perfectly in parallel with each other. They were well spaced so that I could easily tell which one was closest to me. The one closest to me was the smallest, the middle one was about twice the size of the small one, and the furthest was huge. There had been no meteors before that or afterwards. He took a moment to read what he had written and, satisfied that his entry had captured all of the events of the previous night, slipped the pen back into the holder along the spine. Removing the map from the back of his journal, he opened it and examined it for a couple of minutes. Reaching into the backpack, he removed the GPS and read off his location. He checked that against the point that he had marked the night before and nodded when the two locations matched. Folding the map, he replaced it in the journal and returned the journal and the GPS to the backpack. He glanced over at the coffee and saw that it wasn't ready yet; it never was by this time. He stood up and lifted up his bedroll. Holding along the long side, he shook it with a great snap to remove any bugs, leaves, or other debris that might be stuck to it. It took only a half a minute to fold it into thirds and then roll it into a tight bundle. He tied it with four strings that he retrieved from his backpack. Setting it down next to the backpack, he squatted and removed two small packages from it. The packages contained a small piece of sausage and the hard cheese. It wasn't much, but it was more than sufficient for a cold breakfast. He checked the coffee again and found that it was ready and very hot.Using his shirttail, he lifted it by the handle from the mound of dirt and set it aside to cool. Rich foam topped half of the cup. The aroma of the coffee filled his nostrils and brought back memories of the Greek woman who had taught him to make coffee in this fashion. He remembered the time she had made a cup of coffee with a distribution of foam almost identical to what was on the cup he was now examining. She told him that a major change in life was indicated. That same day, an event happened that completely changed his life. Even now, the memory of that day brought a shudder to him. Since then, he never touched alcohol or drugs; he turned from dropout to determined student. Breaking away from his reflections, he took a bite of the sausage. His stomach twisted in response to the strong flavor of garlic so early in the day. He grimaced but continued to eat. Alternating between bites of sausage and cheese, he slowly consumed his breakfast. Occasionally, he would take the time to sip his coffee, enjoying the strong flavor and rush of caffeine. It wasn't long before he had nothing left but half a bite of sausage and cheese. He set them aside, saying, "For the Gods and Goddesses." With a quick flick of his wrist, he emptied the contents of his coffee cup onto the remains of his fire. The sudden onslaught of wet coffee grounds threw up a cloud of steam laced with the heavy scent from coffee smoking amongst a few remaining coals. He added a small amount of water to the cup, swirled it with a deft flick of the wrist, and tossed the water onto the fire again. The last coals died with a protesting hiss. His cup was free of coffee grounds. He added more water to the cup and dunked his toothbrush into it. After a minute of vigorous brushing, he spat out the white foam into the fire pit. A quick sip from the cup and a general swishing of the water through his mouth was followed by another splash of water hitting the fire pit. The fire pit was now a mess of sodden ashes and half-burnt sticks. He drank down the mouthful of water that remained in the cup. It only took another five minutes of work, and all of his possessions were packed into the backpack or tucked into his pockets. With a patient scan over his campsite, he assured himself that there was little or no trace of his stay. A small mound of dirt where his fire pit had been and a small piece of cheese and sausage were all that remained. The flattened grass where he had slept would stand again in a day or two. He took considerable pleasure in performing the strict routine of his morning tasks. It was after three hours of leisurely hiking that a chill ran up his spine. He froze in place as he struggled to come to grips with the unnatural feel of his surroundings. Everything was too quiet. There was no wind and no birdcalls. He listened carefully, trying to identify the source of his uneasiness, yet nothing reached his ears. As he looked around, it seemed as though the colors were too bright. The greens of the leaves, the browns and grays of the trunks and branches of the trees, and the blue of the sky screamed at him. There was a profusion of colors. The light hurt his eyes with its intensity. The sound of a branch moving struck him like a whip. His head swiveled to see what had caused the noise. He stared in shock as a naked woman stepped from the forest. A current of electricity raced through him. His cock went from placid to erect instantly and painfully. Time seemed to stop as she stood at an angle to him, allowing him to take in her beauty. She was the perfect woman incarnate. Her stance was one of complete ease and confidence. Her right leg supported her weight. The left leg was angled to the side, the toes just touching the ground. Her left hand rested upon her hip. There was no trace of embarrassment in how she presented herself to him, although there was no modesty in her pose. Her skin was silky white and totally unblemished. Her light brown hair hung to the top of the most sensational ass that he had ever seen and partially covered her breasts. Her gravity-defying breasts were the perfect size, not too big and not too small. The pencil eraser-sized nipples were erect, rising proudly from the light brown aureole. Her face was perfect. Her eyes watched him with direct and piercing intensity, tempered with a softness that spoke of a deep understanding of mortal frailty. The irises were the color of emeralds and shone with a light of their own. Her lips were a natural reddish hue that gave them a sensuality that no lipstick could ever achieve. Her lips, raised slightly in a wry smile, conveyed a sense of amusement. The cheeks shone with a natural blush. His gaze returned to her eyes, and through them, he saw himself. He felt as though he were the one naked. He knew himself to be filthy from hiking for two weeks without a civilized shower. It had been two days since he had washed himself, and that time was in a pitiful stream where the best he could do was wet his shirt and wipe himself with it. The knees of his pants were permanently stained from kneeling in the dirt and grass. He was not really embarrassed by his physical appearance. That was minor. It was the fact that he knew his soul was laid bare for her to examine at her leisure. At that moment, he had an epiphany. He realized there was a significant difference between being naked and nude. Naked was being exposed and vulnerable to others. Nude was merely lacking clothing. She was nude, and he was naked, although he still wore his clothes. Her secrets were still safe, while his were exposed for all to see. She beckoned him to follow with her right hand. Dazed and confused, he followed her. He felt a panic rise on those few occasions when she would disappear as she walked around a tree. The panic would only subside when she became visible again. His erection never flagged. In fact, it seemed as though it was stronger with each step that he took. It became painful to walk. He had no idea how far or in what direction they walked when she suddenly stopped beside a ravine. He stopped next to her and stood there, never taking his eyes from her. She turned and smiled. With an unexpected ferocity, she tore the clothes from his body. She moved with an unnatural speed and exercised tremendous strength. His leather belt snapped as the blue jeans were ripped off him. He never saw the shirt disappear, but knew that it was gone when shreds of it floated on the breeze around him. One moment he was dressed, and the next he was naked with a painful erection reaching towards the sky. Before he even had a chance to react, she threw him to the ground and mounted him. There was nothing giving about this act. She was taking and doing so without any regard to his pleasure. She rocked herself on his cock. It felt as though she were trying to break it off. She grabbed his arms and squeezed painfully, drawing blood where her fingernails had become embedded in his flesh. She growled like a wild animal and stared into the sky as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her. With each orgasm, her movements became even less gentle, although he thought it was not possible. Despite the brutality of the act, his body reacted. His arousal grew, and soon he came within her. He convulsed as spurt after spurt of cum rocketed into her. He would never be able to recall how long he came, but it felt like hours. After he ejected the last blast of cum, she gently rubbed her hand across his face and dismounted from his cock. When the intensity of his orgasm finally diminished to a point where he was again aware of his surroundings, he looked up to see her towering over him. She pointed across the ravine to a tree. He looked in the direction she had pointed and saw a golden flash as a medallion hung from the branch of the tree, twisting in the wind. He looked back at her, and again she gestured towards the medallion. He gazed at it and looked to her again. Now she frowned and pointed at the medallion a third time. Understanding crashed upon him as he realized that he was supposed to fetch the medallion for her. Confused and in pain from the physical pounding she had given him, he stood and walked to the edge of the ravine. It was only fifteen feet or so deep and thirty feet across. A beautiful blue stream, teeming with fish, snaked its way through the ravine. Lush green plants grew in great profusion. He lowered himself over the edge and carefully started to make his way down. He had to be careful to protect his naked body from further insult by the sharp edges of the stone comprising the wall of the ravine. When he had gone down about fifteen feet, he glanced down. The bottom of the ravine was still fifteen feet below him. Confused, he looked up only to see that the top of the ravine was fifteen feet above him. He continued to lower himself, glancing upwards occasionally. The edge of the ravine soon rose impossibly far above him. The bottom remained fifteen feet below him. He was taken by surprise when he finally reached the bottom. Stepping back, he looked up and saw that the edge of the ravine was only fifteen feet above him. He shook his head as though to clear it as he turned away from the wall of the ravine. His nose was immediately assaulted by the odor of rot and decay. Instead of lush green plants, plants that were pale and brown surrounded him. The plants were mushy and squished between his toes. He stopped for a moment, wondering how she had managed to rip his leather hiking shoes from his feet. Steeling himself to the task at hand, he stepped carefully, making his way the few feet to the stream. What had appeared to be a blue stream was now shown as a muddy swamp clogged with algae and dead fish.He searched for stepping-stones, but realized quickly that there was no way to cross without walking through it. Taking a deep breath of the rotten air, he grimaced as he stepped into the muck. Each step released a horrible bubble of noxious gas that threatened to make him vomit. He marched for hours to cross the swamp. He was fearful that if he tried to turn back, he would never make it out alive. At a point that appeared to be halfway through the swamp, he encountered a naked young girl, about eight years of age, crying to herself. He stopped and knelt down to put himself at eye level with her. He spoke softly and gently, "Hello there. Are you lost?" The young girl sniffled, "Yeah, I want out of this icky mess." "My name is John. What is yours?" The young girl paused for a minute and then answered, "Missy." "Okay, Missy, how about you and I walk in that direction for a while?" The girl started to cry even more, "I don't want to walk in this icky mess any more. I wanna go home to mommy and daddy." He stood there for a minute and considered his options. Not finding any options that he liked, he told her, "Why don't you climb on my shoulders and I'll carry you that way?" She smiled, "Are you giving me a horsy ride?" He nodded his head and knelt down for her to climb on. It only took her half a second to settle on his shoulders; legs hanging over each shoulder and her arms around the top of his head. He stood with more than a little struggle, and stated in as cheerful of a voice as he could muster, "Here we go!" Missy shouted out, "Yippy!" He started his march through the swamp. Each step sank in deeper, and it was hard work lifting his foot out of the muck. He was definitely tired, and this was going to tire him even faster. Each step led to larger releases of noxious gas than when he walked alone. As he marched, he thought about his situation. Here he was, a naked adult carrying a naked girl in the wilderness. The naked girl wasn't even a relative. When he got across the swamp and finally met up with someone, he was likely to be sent to jail as a pedophile. There was no way that he could relate the events that placed him in this position to any sane or rational person, much less someone who was outraged at the apparent offense. He would end up in jail, there was no doubt of that. There was no way that he could set her down and leave her here though. To do that would be a real crime and one that he would have to live with for the rest of his life. His morose thoughts and the sheer effort to take each step demanded all of his attention. So again, he was surprised when he finally made his way out of the swamp, although the plants on this side were definitely more disgusting than they had been on the other side. There was no way that he would set the girl in that mess. He walked through the mess, watching as maggots wriggled in the mud and flies bit his ankles and legs. It was with temporary relief that he finally reached the wall of the ravine. He thought he knew what to expect now. Now he had to figure out how to climb up the wall and get the young girl up the wall as well. He set her down near the wall, much to her complaints. She had been enjoying the ride through the swamp. He leaned down and stated, "Sorry about that, I have to rest before trying to climb up the wall. Can you climb a little?" Missy thought about it for a minute, "I'm afraid to fall." He thought about it some more and decided there was still a chance, "How about you climb up first and I'll be right behind you to catch you if you fall?" He took a minute to catch his breath and work some of the tension out of the muscles of his back. He helped the girl up the wall before reaching out to climb up the wall himself. As he climbed, the rock face crumbled under his hands. He had to take his time and work his way up carefully. Several times, the girl started to slip, and he caught her before she fell much. The sudden strain on his muscles drained what little reservoir of strength that he had. Once, as he was reaching up to find a solid handhold, the rocks he was using for support gave way. He slid twenty feet down the face before catching something solid. He screamed out in pain at the cuts on the front of his body. He glanced down to see that his genitals were a bloody mess. He was exhausted beyond human endurance. His body was racked in pain. The only thing that kept him from quitting was the knowledge that if he quit, there would be a little girl lost in this horrible environment. He climbed up to where Missy was watching him with terror in her eyes. He smiled, "Don't worry about me, I would have caught you too." Missy nodded, "Ok." They started to climb together, her leading the way and him right behind her ready to catch her at a moment's notice. They climbed, and the more they climbed, the more determined he became to reach the top. Progress became measured in inches. Determination and focus on his goal drove him up the wall of crumbling stone. Muscles burned, each breath rasped in his throat, and sweat running into his eyes blurred his vision. He was not surprised when he finally reached the top. He was unaware that he had reached the top until he realized that he was standing in front of the tree from which the medallion hung, with the young girl standing next to him. He smiled down at her, "We made it out of that icky place!" She smiled, "Yea!" He turned to the tree on which the medallion hung and stated, "Let me get this, and then we can go find your home. Ok?" She frowned, "Do you think my daddy will be angry at me to find me without my clothes?" He ran his hand through her hair and answered, "Honey, he's going to be so happy to see you that he won't be mad at you about your clothes." "That's good. I don't like it when daddy gets mad at me. He's real big and scary when he gets mad." He thought about it. All he needed now was a big scary man finding him naked with the girl. Hands trembling, he reached out and grabbed the medallion. Lifting it off the branch, he held it in his hands not seeing it. He stared at his hands. The little finger of his left hand was twisted into an unnatural position. The skin of both hands was torn and bloody. All his fingernails were broken. He looked again and realized that one fingernail had come off completely. Numbly he turned to face the ravine only to find the woman standing next to him. She smiled and pulled the medallion from his hands. With dignity and honor, she hung the medallion around his neck. In a voice that seemed to reverberate through the air, she said, "John Carter, it is time for you to rest." He woke leaning against his backpack beside a stream. His clothes were whole and clean. In fact, his clothes looked as good as new. There were no injuries and no pain. He was whole and clean as though he had just had a hot shower. His beard, grown over the month that he had spent out in the wilds, was trimmed and neat. His confusion only increased when he felt an unusual warm feeling spreading from the medallion hanging about his neck. He reached down and touched the medallion. Shaking his head, he said, "I guess it wasn't a dream." As though it was an affirmation, a wind suddenly blew through the trees. The leaves shook. They made a rustling sound as though a hidden audience was moving about. The branches of two adjacent trees banged against each other as though applauding. Chills raced up his spine. He shook himself and took a couple of minutes to collect his thoughts. He decided it wouldn't do him any good to try to puzzle out recent events, but that he did need to take care of the now. The first thing that came to his mind was that he had no idea where he was. He pulled out his GPS from the case on his belt and retrieved his map from the backpack so that he could check his location. To his surprise, he found that he was only a thirty-minute walk from the town that was his destination for the day. He didn't expect to arrive there until late in the afternoon. He checked his watch and was shocked to find that it was flashing random numbers instead of the date and time. The sun was directly overhead, so that made it about noon. He replaced his belongings to their proper locations before standing up. Checking his compass, he headed towards town. He decided that he would eat a good meal, spend the night in a hotel, and only then would he try to figure out what had happened that morning. Now that he had a plan, he resolutely set about executing it. He was almost in town when a thought that had been in the back of his mind forced itself to his consciousness, 'I was raped by a woman.' He revised that statement; he had made love with a tornado.

Part 1: Shield, Staff, and Compass, Chapter 1

Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac/John_Carter_Part_I/chasm01.txt

Lazlo Zalezac

Biggers1

... come forth to define himself as a man, yet he knows not what it means to be a man. What he knows is useless. Big boys don't cry. Big boys don't sit around dreaming nonsense. A man is strong and does not allow others to push him around. A man will fight for what is his. A man does what he must. Add those trivial statements together and you get nothing useful for defining yourself as a man. Is a man defined by the cock between his legs? He does not know, but does not believe so. He works to mold himself into the image of his father, big, strong, callous, and loud. That is his only model on which to base his idea of a man. Yet the father defined himself in the same fashion, following in the footsteps of his father. Generations of men, none of whom knew what it meant to be a man. Unless he learns, generations of men to follow will not know what it means to be a man. Ed watched as a man pulled up to the house across the street in a jeep. Hoping this guy was better than the wimp that lived there before, he watched as two trips were all that were required to unpack the jeep. A backpack, a bag of groceries, a walking stick, a couple of lawn chairs, and a computer were all that the new neighbor had with him. Talking to himself, he said, "He travels light." For days, he checked the house across the street. He was waiting to see the moving van arrive, but the only thing that arrived was a beat-up truck carrying a used desk in the back. Manuel and his son unloaded the desk and carried it into the house. The stranger had gone into the house and remained inside. It bothered Ed more than he could express in words. In his mind, the stranger should have come out and established himself as a presence in the neighborhood. This kind of behavior suggested his neighbor was just another wimp. Of course, Ed enjoyed teaching wimps what a real man was like, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maria, the neighbor across the way, came out to watch her son play soccer in the front yard. Ed, not yet ready to go down to the bar, picked up a beer and went across the street to talk to her. Stepping across the road, he shouted, "Hello, Maria." Looking at him with dread, Maria answered, "Hello, Ed." Taking a big sip of the beer from the bottle, he asked, "So what about the new neighbor?" Maria shrugged and answered, "I don't know. I see him sitting out back on a lawn chair occasionally. Keeps to himself." Ed shook his head in derision. Finally, he said, "It just isn't right." Pleased to have a quiet neighbor, Maria wasn't about to complain. She had hoped that Ed would have moved out rather than the previous occupant of the house next door. Ed was a loud braggart that chased off every nice person in the area. She shrugged and said, "It's the quiet ones that will surprise you." Ed took another sip of his beer and looked over at the house in time to see the man exit from it. The man, using a walking stick, strolled slowly down the street, greeting the other neighbors as he went. Getting a better view of the guy reinforced his judgment that the man as a wimp. He said, "He looks like a hippie with that long hair and beard." Maria watched Ed as he stared at the man walking down the street. She cringed when he took a last sip of his beer and followed the guy down the street with his typical swagger. With a negligent gesture, he threw the empty beer bottle in the front yard of the house next door. As she picked up the bottle, she muttered, "One day that man is going to meet his match." Ed entered the bar and saw his new neighbor sit down at the counter. Stepping behind him, he put a hand on the man's shoulder. Much to his surprise, the man didn't cringe, but turned to look at him with a steadiness that was most unexpected. Ed said, "Howdy neighbor." The stranger replied, "Hello." "You moved in across the street from my place," said Ed, irritated that the man didn't know this fact. He felt like this was supposed to be something that the other guy should already know. "Oh. Let me introduce myself. I'm John Carter." John extended his hand. Ed grabbed the hand and squeezed as hard as he could. John just squeezed back. Ed said, "I'm Ed Biggers." "Nice to meet you Ed." "Nice to finally meet you. Let me buy you a drink," replied Ed. It was time to get a measure of the man. He offered the drink as a challenge to see what the man would order. "That would be very nice of you. I'll have a coke." Ed stared at John, fully expecting him to order a beer at least. He asked, "Coke? What are you? Are you some kind of wimp?" "No. I just don't drink alcohol," replied John. There was a sternness in his voice that Ed found unsettling. It made him wonder if he was going to have to beat the guy and pour the drink into him. Deciding it was time to put the man in his place, Ed shouted out to the bar, "Hey, folks. We got us a wimp. He doesn't drink like a real man. He doesn't even drink a woman's drink. He actually wants a coke without the rum!" Ed knew he had scored a point over the man when the majority of people in the bar burst out laughing at the announcement. Turning to Shirley, he said, "Hey Shirley, set us up with a couple of whiskeys with beer chasers." "Don't forget my coke. Plain with no rum." Shirley set a whiskey with a beer in front of Ed and a plain coke in front of John. Angered, Ed looked at Shirley feeling like she was undermining his efforts to put this guy in his place. He told her, "I said a couple. I'm buying the wimp here a man's drink." Shirley shot back, "Ed, don't do this." Ed repeated himself, "I said a couple. Now hop to it little lady before I lose my temper." She relented and set the drinks in front of John. John picked up the shot glass with the whiskey in it. He sniffed it, nodded, and then set it down. With a smile on his face, John calmly stated, "I heard that some men drink in the hope that it will make their pecker bigger. I don't know if that's your reason for drinking. Since I'm already hung like a horse, I don't drink in the hope that it will shrink down to the size a woman can handle." Furious at the implication that he had a small cock, Ed glared at John. This was a very real challenge and he was going to put that hippie in his place. Cocking his arm back, he was shocked when his balls suddenly felt like they were in an iron grip. As he bent over, paralyzed in pain, he saw that the man had hold of his balls. Slowly, he collapsed to the floor as the desire to vomit washed over him. He never realized when John left, all that he knew was the pain in his balls was slowly disappearing. With great effort, he stood up and leaned on the bar. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he picked up the shot of whiskey and shot it back. He followed that with the second shot and then both beers. The look Shirley gave him only angered him. He spat out, "Don't say a word." As he opened the door to leave, a number of people laughed. Glaring, he turned and looked over the room seeking the source of the laughter. The room got very quiet as no one wanted to become his next target. A very angry Ed left the bar and made his way home, swearing the whole trip that he would get revenge. Ed woke the next morning feeling like hell from drinking too much the night before. Leaving the bedroom in his boxers, he glanced out the window at the house across the street and said, "You'll pay for that, you bastard." Scratching his stomach, he entered the kitchen to grab a beer. After opening it, he took a sip from the bottle. The pounding in his head slowly eased and he returned to the bedroom. He slowly dressed, taking a sip of the beer between each item of clothes. As he was putting on his boots, he heard terrified screams coming from outside. Grimacing at the noise, he decided to check it out as he swore to himself, "Damn kids." Walking out of the house, it was impossible to miss Maria's kid screaming. Heading in his direction, Ed stopped when he saw hundreds of rattlesnakes on the ground. Heart thumping, he stared at them in fear. He looked up in time to see John walk in amongst the snakes calmly and deliberately. The desire to shout out a warning died on his lips as snake after snake struck the man. Amazed at what he was seeing, he looked at John, noticing for the first time the huge red scar that ran down his back and the scars on his legs. This was the bravest thing that he had ever seen in his life. He came out of his trance when John set the boy down next to Maria and turned to him saying, "Ed, would you please drive me to the hospital?" The effect of those words staggered him as hard as a solid blow to the chin. This was the guy that he had tried to fight the night before and now he was trusting him to take him to the hospital. As he turned to get his truck, he shouted, "Sure, I'll get my truck."Running back to his house, he realized that this guy was probably going to die before they got to the hospital. He fished in his pockets for his keys as he ran. Jumping in the truck, he started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. He opened the passenger-side door once he reached the entry to Maria's front yard. Hobbling, John slowly made his way to the truck. Ed looked at all of the bites on John's legs. There was no way this guy could survive so many bites, but he sat there calmly in the truck. The ropes tied above and below the bites caused the section of the leg between the knots to swell. It was hard driving while watching the man, seated next to him, cut himself with the knife. The wounds oozed yellow and red. The yellow was the venom. When John wrapped the rope about his legs to force the poisons out of the cuts, Ed nearly swerved off the road. John didn't even flinch at what appeared to be a very painful procedure. Awed by what he was seeing, Ed said, "You're the bravest man I've ever seen. I know, I've seen quite a few when I was in the army." "That's nice of you to say. I feel more stupid than brave. I could have done this without a single bite, but I left my walking stick in the house." Ed pressed the accelerator down a little more. The truck edged up to eighty miles an hour. Ed drove silently for a minute as he thought about how he had treated John the night before and then said, "I'm sorry about last night." "Same here. I hope that we can become good friends." John was silent for a minute. Ed took his silence as a sign that he didn't really accept the apology. It was with relief that he heard John ask, "Can I ask you to do a favor?" "Sure." "Don't tell anyone what you see or hear in the hospital." Wondering what he would hear, he answered, "Is that it? No problem, I won't say a word about it. Let's just hope the hospital is just as quiet about it." John laughed and then said, "I've dealt with hospitals before. They are usually pretty good when they know that you desire a little privacy about such things." When they reached the hospital, Ed stopped the truck right in front of the emergency entrance. After John stepped out and was in the care of a nurse, Ed parked the truck in the visitors section of the parking lot. He made his way to the emergency room trying to figure out what kind of guy he had just driven here. Ed arrived just in time to follow John into the examination area. The doctor closed the curtain leaving John, Ed, herself, and the nurse crowded together in close quarters. Ed watched as the woman doctor examined the cuts on John's legs. She smiled and nodded, "Good job. It looks like you cut in the direction of the fangs and deep enough to get to where the toxin was deposited. Single cuts rather than X cuts. You did a very good job. Of course, I expected that of you after reading your record." "Thanks." She examined the tourniquet trying to place where she had seen that before. It took her a minute to remember a story about the Chinese miners working on the railroad and looked up surprised, "Chinese rope?" "Yes." "I doubt you really need the anti-toxin, but with that number of bites it's better to be safe than sorry." Ed watched the exchange fascinated by the calm manner in which they discussed the treatment John had given himself. While he had worried about John dying before getting to the hospital, the doctor was doubting the need for the anti-toxin. He stared at John, disbelieving what he was hearing. She reached behind her and removed a syringe from a tray carried by the nurse in the examination area. She injected John without major comment or warning. John asked, "Aren't you supposed to warn me that this is going to sting a little?" "You've had more than enough of these to know what is going on!" "True. I was just wondering if you had failed bedside manner in medical school." Ed laughed at the joke, perhaps a little harder than appropriate, but he was still overwhelmed by all that he had seen. Nonplussed, the doctor stood there for a moment and consulted the folder containing his medical records. She asked, "Would you mind standing up for a minute and allowing me to examine you?" "No problem." "Could you please drop your towel so I can see all of you." "No problem." Dropping the towel, John stood there completely naked. The only thing left was a medallion hanging around his neck. Sitting slightly off to the side, Ed realized there were scars he hadn't seen before. He caught himself looking at the guy's cock and felt a little embarrassed at examining another man's body. The doctor proceeded to point out scars and recite the situations in which they were created. As she recited each situation, she paused for an acknowledging nod from John. Ed stared wide-eyed as he heard the causes of each scar. That horrible scar and burn had been the result of running twice into a burning building to rescue two kids. He had died as a result of the gunshot taken while protecting a total stranger. Ed's attention returned to the conversation when he heard John say, "Darn, I was hoping for that. The least you could do for me is dress up in a sexy doctor outfit." The nurse started laughing so hard that tears were coming from her eyes. Ed didn't understand what was so funny. The doctor explained, "Some people here think I'm an ice bitch." John looked at her very seriously and shook his head. He said, "No, I don't think so. You aren't an ice bitch. You are a consummate professional at work. At home, I bet you are a very focused and considerate lover. I would bet that you are a natural submissive." Ed looked at her speculatively for a moment and then discounted the possibility that a doctor would be interested in an old cowboy like himself. She was an attractive woman and any man would be happy to have a woman that looked like her. Ed perked up when John asked, "Will I be confined to bed?" "Only if you start to feel sick. Why?" "Well, I was wondering if there were any kids in here that might appreciate having a story read to them," explained John. He looked over at the doctor in hope that he would be able to do that. Ed couldn't believe what he was hearing. This guy was hurt, yet he was still thinking of others. How could he ever have believed this guy was a wimp? Ed knew that if he were in that position, he'd be bragging about how brave he had been and how much pain he had to endure. To quietly ask if he could read stories to kids was incredible. John, in response to the permission granted by the doctor, laughed. "Great. I'll need a hospital gown and robe. I would hate to have to walk around like this or in my towel." The nurse reached around and handed him the requested items. As John put them on, the doctor asked, "So how did you get so many bites?" "A child found himself in a little difficulty. I did what little I could." A child found himself in a little difficulty? That was a lame description of what had actually happened. Ed felt like he had to clarify things a bit. He said, "Bullshit. This kid had walked into an area of rattlesnakes sunning themselves. There must have been a hundred of them. He was terrified and screaming. John came running out the house just dressed in that towel. Then he just walked in as calmly as can be, picked the kid up, and walked back out. You'd have thought he was just taking a stroll through a park. Bravest damn thing I've ever seen. Everyone else, myself included, was just standing there too afraid to move." The doctor wrote that down into the medical record. She nodded at Ed and replied, "Sounds like John according to what I've read in here about him." Turning to John, Ed felt like he had to apologize once again. He said, "I have to apologize for last night. I hope you can forgive me. I'll buy you a coke anytime you want." This was the second time that Ed had apologized to him. John smiled and extended his hand in a warm handshake. He said, "I'll be proud to call you a friend." The doctor looked up at Ed. She asked, "what was that about?" Ed looked up at the ceiling for a minute and then replied, "I met him the first time last night and offered to buy him a drink. When he requested a coke, I'm afraid that I didn't react very nicely. I called him a wimp. When he made a smart-ass comment, I lost my temper and went to hit him. Let's just say, he won quite handily. I'll admit I was trying to think of some way of getting back at him, but damn he's no wimp. He's a better man than I am. I was a real jerk last night and I'm man enough to admit it." The nurse looked at Ed with more than a little interest. She had never heard a man give such an honest appraisal about himself in public like this. It turned her on and she moved a little closer to Ed so that her hip touched his. Ed had never felt so uncomfortable in front of others and decided it was time for him to get out of there. Turning to John, he said, "Look, you're gonna be in here until tomorrow morning. I'll head out now and be back to pick you up in the morning. If you don't mind, I'll pick up some clothes for you to wear home." "Thanks, I'd appreciate that. My clothes are in the backpack. You can't miss it." The nurse led Ed out of the examination area. Once out of hearing of the others, she said, "I'm Kelly. I have to tell you that no man has ever impressed me as much as you." Shocked, Ed looked down at her and asked, "What?" Smiling at this handsome man, Kelly said, "You're so honest. I've never met a man that would admit so honestly that he had done something wrong. Don't tell anyone, but that turns me on." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Never had a woman that was so beautiful ever said anything like that to him. Swallowing with difficulty, Ed said, "Look. I've got to be honest with you."I've always been a bully, and until today I had no idea what a real man was like. John in there is a real man." Licking her lips, Kelly walked out of the hospital beside Ed. As they approached his truck, she summoned her courage and said, "I have to tell you something, and you might freak. I want to have two husbands and a wife. Today I realized that I want Dr. Hayes as my wife. If it doesn't bother you that I'm interested in that, I'd like to see you again." Ed stood there for a minute, considering what she had just said. The idea of having two wives wasn't that bad. He wondered what it would be like to have a husband, but set aside the idea for later thought. For now, he was interested in knowing this spunky lady a little better. With a shaky voice, he replied, "I'd like that. Would Friday night be okay?" Looking through her purse for something to write on, she said, "I'll give you my number. Call me and I'll give you directions to my apartment." He watched as she wrote down her name and number. Realizing that he had never told her his name, he said, "My name is Ed Biggers." She slipped a piece of paper in his hand as she hugged him. Stepping back, she winked and said, "Call me, Ed Biggers." Watching her walk back to the hospital, Ed stood there for several minutes thinking about the events of the morning. He slowly got into the truck and drove away from the hospital. Normally, he would have sped home, but this time he drove at a leisurely pace, thinking furiously. He had never met anyone as brave as John. The guy was a hero and yet didn't boast or brag at all. His whole concept of manliness was turned upside down. Reaching home, he parked the truck. There was the knife in the front seat that John had used to cut open his wounds. He didn't know who the knife belonged to, but thought that Maria would know. Picking up the knife, he headed over to Maria's house to check on Juan. As he walked up to the front door, he realized that he had never called upon her before. Rapping on the door sharply, he waited for Maria to answer. He wasn't sure what to say to her. Maria opened the door and looked startled to see Ed standing there. She said, "Hello, Ed." "Hello, Maria. How's Juan?" Surprised that Ed even knew the name of her son, she replied, "He's fine. How is the guy next door?" Ed answered, "John is doing very well. They wanted to watch him overnight, so I'll pick him up from the hospital tomorrow morning." Not entirely trusting Ed, Maria didn't like the idea of him going to pick him up. She said, "I can get him tomorrow." Looking off to the horizon, Ed answered, "No. I'll do that." With increasing nervousness, Maria said, "I heard that you had a fight with him last night." Laughing, Ed answered, "Yes, I did. He won it quite easily. Don't worry about me taking revenge on him. He's a far better man than I." Maria looked at Ed, puzzled by his statement. She had never heard Ed say anything nice about anyone in her life. She shifted nervously and said, "Oh." Ed held up the knife, only then realizing that it was still bloody. He asked, "Do you know who this belongs to? John was using it to cut the bites to remove the poison." Making a cross, Maria looked at the knife and the blood on it. She answered, "It belongs to Jorge. I'll take it to him." Ed handed the knife to her, handle first. With a hesitance that was rooted in not trusting him and not wanting to touch the bloody knife, there was an uncomfortable delay before she took it from him. Turning to leave, he stopped and said, "Do you know that he's reading stories to the kids in the hospital right now?" "Who? Jorge?" Realizing that he hadn't been very specific about who was doing the reading, he clarified it by saying, "No. John. I drove him there terrified that he was going to die. He gets there and right after that he's reading to the kids. Can you imagine that?" Watching Ed carefully, Maria was unable to hide her confusion concerning his behavior. Ed didn't seem to notice and just walked off to the house next door. The front door was still wide open. In this town, that wasn't a problem unless a snake crawled into the house. Crime was almost unheard of around here. Everyone knew everyone and everything that went on in town. The water was still running in the shower. He went in and shut off the water. The quiet in the house seemed unnatural. It took him several minutes to realize that there wasn't the normal hum of an air conditioner running in the background. He stepped into the bare living room. He went into a bedroom expecting to find John's stuff in there. The bedrooms were empty. He went into the dining room, finding the desk with the computer on it. The sleeping bag and backpack were on the floor next to the desk. Speaking out loud to himself, he said, "This guy must be poor as dirt." He knelt over the backpack and pulled out a fresh change of clothes. When he reached for the underwear, he felt a little weird about it. As he headed towards the door, he realized that he had forgotten to get some shoes for the guy to wear. He stopped and looked around some more before he spotted the hiking boots next to the desk. When he went to the desk, he looked at the papers spread across it. He couldn't even read the titles on some of the papers and said, "Shit, this guy must be smart as hell." He grabbed the boots and headed out of the house. When he entered his house, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. As he twisted the top off it, he realized what he was doing. Looking at the clock, he swore, "It's not even eleven in the morning and I'm drinking my second beer of the day. What is wrong with me?" He poured the beer out of the bottle and looked around for something else to drink. There wasn't anything else to drink in the entire house except for the water from the tap. Letting the tap run for a minute, he filled a glass with the clear liquid and drank it down. It wasn't as bad as he remembered it, but he'd get tired of drinking it soon. He settled in a chair and called his boss. His boss answered the phone, "Livestock Auctions." Ed replied, "Hello, Nevada. This is Ed." His boss answered, "Oh, Ed. I heard about this morning. You done at the hospital?" "Yes, sir." It didn't take long for news about an event like this morning to spread out over the whole county. That was one aspect of living in the country that most city folk didn't realize. There was a moment of silence. Nevada asked, "Anything wrong?" "No, sir," replied Ed. He looked out the window at the house across the street. The guy that lived there surely knew something that he didn't. "We've got an auction tonight. You'll be here to help with the cattle, won't you." Distracted, Ed answered, "I'm leaving for there now." The drive to work passed quickly. He made his normal stop to pick up something to drink and left after purchasing a six-pack of soft drinks. A look of disbelief spread across the face of the clerk as he rang up the purchase. He had never seen Ed buy anything except beer. Ed pulled into the auction yard and parked his truck in his normal spot. Going over to the corral, he caught his horse and saddled it. Settling into the saddle, he went to work pushing cows around the lot. The work was easy, and he went through the motions automatically. Nevada had to call him twice to get his attention. Riding the horse over to where his boss stood next to his pickup truck, he asked, "Nevada, what can I do for you?" Nevada looked around the lot, noticing the amount of work Ed had already done. He replied, "I didn't hear you come in." Ed reached into the truck and pulled out a Coke out of his foam cooler. Worked the tab to open the can, he took a sip as Nevada stared in disbelief. Ed said, "Oh, I've been here for a while. What's up?" "Are you feeling okay?" Ed climbed off his horse and tied it to the fence post as he answered, "I'm feeling fine." Nevada looked at Ed for a minute without saying a word. His eyes flicked to the can of soda and then at Ed. This was the first time since Ed had started working here that he hadn't come screeching into the lot with tires spinning. He had never seen Ed drink a can of soda. Even on the day that Ed had interviewed, he hadn't been half as respectful as he was today. He said, "I'll take your word for it. How long will it take you to finish up cutting the cattle into the pens?" Looking over the yard, Ed answered, "About an hour, maybe less." "You sure?" Nodding to indicate his confidence, Ed answered, "Yes, sir." Nevada said, "When you get done, you might as well get some food in you. We have a lot of work to do tonight." "Sure thing," replied Ed as he mounted up. Turning his horse, he went back to work. Nevada watched as Ed deftly cut out four head of cattle and drove them into a holding pen. There were times when he had wanted to fire Ed so much that he could taste it. The problem was that Ed was the most reliable of the men that worked for him. It was a fact that Ed angered everyone at the lot, but he did show up. Shaking his head, Nevada went back into the office to prepare the papers for the auction. It was about an hour later that Ed filled the last pen. He rode his horse over to the corral and took the time to unsaddle it and brush it down. Putting out some feed for the horse, he went over to his truck. He opened another Coke and drank it down. It tasted a lot different than beer, but it wasn't half bad despite the fact that it was too sweet. Driving off to a diner of a truck stop down the way, Ed took his time getting there. Entering the diner, he seated himself at a table near the back. The waitress was rather surprised since Ed usually sat at the counter and flirted outrageously with the waitresses.Most of them detested the man since he was a small tipper and never said anything halfway nice other than to comment on how much they would enjoy going to bed with him. The waitress asked, "What will it be today?" Ed looked up at her and answered, "I'll have the stew tonight and a glass of iced tea." Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Sweet or unsweet?" "Sweet, please," replied Ed. Standing there, the waitress waited for his normal come-on line. When he didn't say anything, she went off to submit his order. She decided that he must be feeling ill today. Turning to the other waitresses, she shrugged her shoulders and made a face that conveyed her surprise at his behavior. Ed turned and looked outside, lost in thought. John had walked through a hundred snakes for a kid he didn't even know. That was brave enough, but then he heard all about the other things the guy had done. It was impossible that anyone could be so brave that he would regularly risk his life for total strangers, but he had seen the evidence. The waitress set a glass of iced tea in front of him. He glanced over at her and said, "Thank you." She stared at him for a minute and then went back to her station. The other waitresses joined her there and talked among themselves. When the stew was ready, one of the other waitresses carried it to the table. She set it in front of Ed and waited for a comment. Ed looked at the stew and said, "Looks good. Thank you." After unwrapping the silverware, he started eating the stew. Taking a sip of the iced tea, he noticed that the waitress was still standing there. He asked, "Is everything okay?" Frowning, she asked, "Are you feeling alright?" Leaning back in his seat, Ed was quiet for a moment. It seemed like everyone he knew was asking him that question today. He nodded and replied, "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." The waitress shook her head and left the table. Returning to the stew, Ed ate it, savoring the flavor. This was the first time in years he had eaten anything without the taste of beer in his mouth. Shaking his head, he wondered what had happened to him this morning. He took another sip of the iced tea. Lost in thought, he didn't notice when they refilled the glass. He did overhear a waitress remark to another, "He might be acting nice, but he still doesn't know how to tip." That comment made him consider how he treated people. Back in the hospital, John had been kind and considerate of everyone. He looked around, watching how the other people in the restaurant treated the waitresses. When the table next to his left the restaurant, he saw that they had left a tip of several dollars. Watching the waitress pick up the tip, he noticed the smile on her face. He left a two-dollar tip on a six-dollar tab and returned to work. The evening passed quickly as he herded cattle into the bidding pen and then returned them to the holding pen. Tomorrow, people would come around and collect their purchases. It would be a long day without much real work. That evening, he returned home and, after sitting in the house alone for an hour, he realized that he didn't have much of a life outside of drinking. He headed down to the bar where, he sat in the corner drinking a Coke and watching what people were doing. Shirley came over to the table when he had finished his Coke. Afraid that she was going to get stiffed for the drinks last night, she said, "You owe me six bucks for the drinks last night." Looking up at her, he realized that she looked a little frightened of him. He sighed and took a sip of his Coke as he wondered how many people were afraid of him. Being completely sober, he realized that he was seeing the world in a brutally honest fashion tonight. He pulled out a ten and handed it to her. He said, "This should cover it and the Coke tonight. I also owe you an apology for the trouble I caused. I am sorry." Shirley didn't know what to say. When he stood to leave, she watched him with confusion and then looked around the room, wondering if she was the only one who had heard him apologize. Everyone else was busy talking with each other, and no one else had noticed. As he headed to the door, she called out, "Let me get you your change." He smiled as he thought about the lesson learned in the diner and answered, "Keep it." Shirley looked at the ten-dollar bill, realizing that Ed had just left her a three-dollar tip. He had never left more than a quarter. When she looked up again, he was gone.

Chapter 1

Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac/Biggers1/biggers01.txt

Dimitri

Age Of Onslaught

... she came awake with a jerk. Terry looked up from her corner, then looked back down, she looked even more miserable than the others. "What the hell was that dream about?" Cecilia thought to herself, pondering the unexpected dream. "I mean, I've never had a thing for Creed, I always figured him and Rogue would get together someday." That was another thing, at the beginning of the dream, she'd been eating out Rogue, but she wasn't a lesbian! She'd never even had bisexual tendencies. She knew that for a fact, one of the first nights in the Mansion back in Westchester, Storm had come onto her. She'd told Ororo she wasn't a lesbian, and the African beauty had just laughed. "I'm not either," she'd said, "I'm bisexual, you should try it, it's the best of both worlds." She'd declined and not regretted it, hadn't even thought of it until now. "Oh really, never even a little curious?" said a voice in her head, it was hers, but for some reason the thought seemed alien. As she sat there, pondering all this, neither she nor the others seemed to notice that in the shadows of the one unoccupied corner of the waiting room, there was a hulking shadow within the shadows, and crimson slits which might have been eyes. The prisoner's cried out as a pink glow permeated the room, and the gasps turned into screams of fear when it faded to reveal the dreaded Beast - Dr. Henry McCoy. "Quickly, Pale Rider!" cried McCoy, seeing where they were, "We have to get out of here!" "Why?" asked Wade, looking about, "What is this anyway?" "What do you mean, what is it? There are the holding pens where we keep humans and low-class mutants for my experiments, but we have to get out of here immediately!" "Just a sec," muttered Deadpool, and shot his gun, blasting the controls and lowering the force fields, "This all reminds me a bit too much of Killebrew's labs for my liking." "YOU IDIOT!" screamed McCoy. "Relax," said Wade, looking at the startled prisoners who suddenly had freedom and didn't know what to do with it, "I'll teleport you out before they tear you a new asshole." "NO!" cried The Beast, "You've given Sugarman access to even more bio-matter to absorb! The moment he gets here, he'll...." The ceiling crashed through, the bloated monstrosity crashing to the floor with such velocity that it cracked the floor and fell through a couple of meters, having to brace itself with its long, thin arms to keep from falling through. The prisoners screamed and began running, not going anywhere but just slamming into walls, banging into each other, running in circles or hiding wherever they could. One of them ran to The Beast, their fear of him overridden by their fear of Sugarman. "HELP US!" the man cried, grabbing The Beast's fur in his hands. The Beast headbutted the man, knocking him out. "Flatscan trash," he muttered, not noticing Deadpool's glare. "HEY!" screamed Wade, waving at Sugarman, "Over here, Jabba!" Sugarman's eyes shifted slightly, seeing Wade and dropping the screaming human it held in one hand. It remembered dimly that the man with Wade was its target, that it had to kill him, and Wade as well if he got in the way. "What are you doing!?" cried The Beast, "Do you want it to chase us?" "Yeah," Wade said, "I do." "Dammit, Pale Rider! This is no time to fall back into your deathwish mode." "Shut the hell up, McCoy," said Wade, and McCoy recognized the tone in his voice, he instantly shut his mouth. "This way sluggo!" Wade cried, smiling beneath his mask when Sugarman began to drag its bulk by its arms (its legs had disappeared into the sagging folds of skin and fat). "You have a plan?" whispered McCoy out of the side of his mouth. "Kind of," said Wade. "YO! HUMANS!" Wade called out, "THIS WAY TO GET OUT!" He blasted the lock behind him, opening the door leading further into the facility. The humans, seeing a way out, smashed their way through the door, crowding and squeezing along. Now only McCoy and Deadpool were left behind. "This way, Doc," Wade said, leading him through the struts that the energy screen would run through. They stepped inside, there was a smell in it, a mixture of collected sweat and fear. "Nice cramped conditions," Wade noted, "How'd you like to live in here, McCoy." "You know as well as I Apocalypse's creed," muttered McCoy, looking uneasily at Sugarman as it approached them, "Survival of the fittest, if they were fit, they wouldn't be in here." They pressed up against the furthermost wall, Sugarman was now squeezing through the struts, moving in to get them. "Wait," said Wade, seeing McCoy's eyes shifting towards the exit. When Sugarman was fully inside the struts, it began to drag itself towards them. Wade grabbed McCoy by the shoulder and pulled him out from the prisoner's area. He hit the control panel, hoping that the one he had blasted earlier wouldn't ruin his plan. With a hum, the energy screen began to come back up. "BRILLIANT!" cried McCoy. "And here's the best part," muttered Wade, and shoved McCoy back through the struts before the screen was fully up. "NO!" screamed McCoy, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!" "You know as well as I Apocalypse's creed," muttered Deadpool, glaring angrily at The Beast, nodding at Sugarman as it eagerly approached McCoy, "Survival of the fittest, if you were fit, you wouldn't be in there." The Beast tried to slip past Sugarman, hoping to dodge him long enough to find a way out. He flipped into the air, pressed his legs against the wall and bounced past Sugarman, he felt a moment's elation when he got past the abomination, and then one unnaturally long, thin arm swiveled 360 degrees, snapped out and grabbed him in one huge, clawed hand, squeezing him tight. This time the screams coming from Sinister's facility came from The Beast, not one of his victims. Factor X 7. Sinister easily hid his distaste at the shivering, quivering wreck sitting in front of him. He also hid his distaste for the two who had brought the man to him, Warren Worthington The III - known by some as Angel - and Jeanne Marie Baubier - Aurora.They'd brought the man to him in the hopes of getting reimbursed. Worthington wanted continued protection and to retain his privileges, while Aurora wanted to be the new leader of Factor X. Instead, he smiled warmly (it was easy to fake emotions when you were dead inside) at the human and said, "Now, calm yourself, Rex, and tell me what happened." Rex was Apocalypse's gopher. At the last meeting of The Horsemen, when Apocalypse had suddenly demanded they leave his Fortress and that Sinister and Holocaust take over his duties, only Rex had remained, because he was always needed. Since then, nobody had seen or heard from Apocalypse. The general consensus from their enemies was that the High Lord was planning his next assault on either Madripoor or Eurasia. Sinister himself was a trifle concerned, as Apocalypse would want to plan with him, or at least with Holocaust, if he was going to attack. But Holocaust had gone off after one of the last two known survivors from The Brotherhood, so if Apocalypse was plotting, it was on his own. Rex still shook and moaned occasionally, but he'd recovered a great deal from the panic that had claimed him when he'd finally escaped the Fortress. "After Apocalypse ordered you and the others to go," moaned Rex, "He walked up to a wall and started asking it questions." Warren lifted an eyebrow at Aurora, who shrugged. "The wall's shadows seemed to turn into a shape, and it spoke back," muttered Rex. "It told him it was The Fit, which seemed to please Apocalypse." Sinister believed every word; he just didn't know what to make of it. "What happened next?" he asked Rex, stroking his goatee. "Apocalypse just stood there, looking at the shadow shape in the wall. He stood there for an hour, then he fell over." Sinister raised an eyebrow. "It's true, I swear!" cried Rex. "He fell straight forward onto his face and didn't move." Rex gulped down the water he'd been given, unaware that it was laced with a strong truth drug of Sinister's own design. It was just a way for the Horseman to confirm to himself that what Rex was saying was the truth. "The shadow stepped free from the shadows," moaned Rex, starting to shake some more, beginning to panic again. "It was huge, bigger even than Holocaust if he was standing on Apocalypse's shoulders, almost as wide as Holocaust and Apocalypse standing side by side. When he stepped out of the shadows, I could see his costume... it was him, he was back! BACK FROM THE DEAD!" "WHO?" cried Sinister, grabbing him by the shoulders. "MAGNUS!" screamed Rex. "IT WAS MAGNUS!" Sinister released him, stood up, and combed his hands through his long, black hair. He breathed deeply and calmed himself. "Did this... Magnus, speak to you?" "He... he... he looked at me funny, his head tilted at a peculiar angle, it wasn't natural, a head can't move that way! And then he chuckled, and it wasn't out loud but in my head... and he said that I was to go out and tell everyone that Apocalypse was dead, that he was the new man in charge." Sinister took Rex by the sides of his head and held him steady, looking deeply into his eyes. "Calm yourself, Rex, you've fulfilled your duties. Calm down and be at peace, you'll be all right." Rex gulped, breathed deeply, and allowed a little smile to cross his face. "I'll... I'll be all right?" "I swear," said Sinister, still looking into his eyes, "You'll never feel pain again." He snapped Rex's neck. Standing over the slumped-over corpse, he looked up at Warren and Aurora, who took an involuntary step back. "Is it true?" Aurora asked, all thoughts of leadership of Factor X gone from her head. "He believed it, in any case," Sinister said, "But whoever the High Lord's assassin is, it's not Magnus." They just looked at him. He sighed and expanded on what he had said. "Magnus had no psychic abilities, and if he was still alive today, he'd be in his early sixties, much too late to gain any form of new mutant abilities, even considering how late he gained his original powers." "Then who? The Shadow King?" asked Warren. Sinister hesitated a second, then decided to tell them, "No, The Shadow King is dead." Aurora and Warren exchanged startled glances. Who could kill The Shadow King? Sinister almost seemed to read their minds. "I have been wondering who could do so, and I remembered that just before The Shadow King's death, he mentioned his one defeat in a psychic battle, a battle with someone called Xavier." "Who?" "It was in Israel, over twenty years ago, that a massive temporal burst was registered, at the same time The Shadow King saw Xavier murdered by a man claiming to be his son. Then, the day before Apocalypse ordered us out of the Fortress, an identical temporal burst was registered in Israel again." "So you suspect that this Xavier has returned?" asked Aurora. "If he was ever truly dead," murmured Sinister, "I looked into what little records remain from those days before the annihilation of Israel's inhabitants and buildings, and I found a record of two men who volunteered in a hospital in Israel. One was called Charles Francis Xavier, the other Erik Magnus Lehnsherr." "Erik Magnus Lehnsherr?" said Aurora. "That was Magnus' real name?" "Actually, it wasn't," said Sinister. "We're fairly sure it was a false name he had forged by a master. But that's beside the point. The point is, Xavier may have taken on Magnus' appearance to bolster support from rebels when he makes a public appearance." "So we're dealing with a guy who can beat The Shadow King and Apocalypse without laying a finger on them," said Warren. "Are you sure you want to go up against them? Maybe we should throw our support in with this Xavier?" Sinister lifted one hand, closed a fist, and blasted a hole through Warren's chest. He looked over at Aurora. "Would you like to hitch your wagon to Xavier's star too?" he asked her. She shook her head quickly. "I've tolerated being under Apocalypse's regime for the sake of my work," Sinister growled to himself, turning about. "I'm not going to let anyone mess with over a hundred and fifty years of selective genetic breeding because they're over twenty feet tall and wearing red armor!" Abyss pulled the hood up over his head, praying that nobody would question him, after all, The Madri all had the same distinctive voice. "What am I doing?" he thought to himself. "Am I crazy or what?" He made his way down towards Yancy Street, keeping as much to the shadows as he could, hoping he wouldn't meet another Madri. The Madri didn't have a shared mind, but a part of their ritual was to touch hands when they met, partially absorbing each other and each gaining the other's experience and knowledge. This meant that The Madri had no secrets, and in the unlikely experience that one of their number tried to betray the others, he would be instantly found out. Nils had pulled a lone Madri wandering the streets into the dark abyss within his body, leaving him gibbering and moaning. Dressing up in the robe, he headed for Sinister's Yancy Street Facility, hoping to bluff his way in and find Deadpool. He had hated the look on Terry's face when she'd realized that her hero wasn't going to come swooping in and save the day, not so much because of despair, which he'd come to learn to live with, but because she had had hope for a second, and then lost it. "Why can't we have hope?" he thought to himself. "The whole world isn't like this. Avalon may or may not be real, but there are places like Madripoor where we could all live without being in fear for our lives." He reached Yancy Street, standing at the entry to the street, looking up at the huge fortress in the middle of the small, darkened street. A small stone hit him in the back. "Huh?" he twisted about, and another rock hit him in the chest. It didn't hurt, but it did startle him. Who would attack a Madri? Who had the guts? "HEY!" cried a high-pitched voice. "ASSWIPE!" His eyes widened within the hood as he saw a small child standing at a darkened alley, shaking a fist at him. "What are you doing, kid?" he snapped, forgetting his voice was clearly different from those of The Madri. "HEY!" cried the kid, looking behind him. "He ain't a Madri!" Suddenly, he was surrounded by a group of about twenty kids. They began to dance about him, crying insults. "Shhh, hey, be quiet," he whispered, hoping they would go away. "Go suck an egg!" laughed the largest boy. "He's a spy!" "Spy!" "Spy!" "Spy!" they all cried. "I Spy with my little eye! SPY SPY SPY!" He looked about uneasily, expecting to see Infinite's charging down Yancy Street to get him. Just then, a blast of energy smashed into the ground next to him. The children disappeared within seconds, almost as if they had never been there. "You ain't no Madri," said a familiar voice, a very distinctive voice. "Deadpool?" he asked, looking up at a window where the Merc-With-A-Mouth sat, legs hanging over the ledge, gun pointed at Abyss. "You're the string dude from the X-Men, aren't you?" he said. "The guy unraveling faster than a sweater from K-Mart?" Abyss didn't know what a K-Mart was, and he was usually very sensitive about jokes about his appearance. But he was just so happy to see Deadpool alive, he forgot about it. "You're alive? Did you not go into the Fortress after all?Deadpool dropped from the window, landing easily and gracefully on his feet. He stood up, facing Abyss eye-slits to hood. He whistled, and suddenly humans were filing out of the building he had been in, first in pairs, then in large groups. A black man in his fifties came to stand next to Wade. He looked grimly at Abyss. "This Madri is a friend of yours?" "He ain't no Madri," Wade said in his best Clint Eastwood impersonation. "He's an X-Man." "What is an X-Man?" asked the man. Abyss pulled his hood away, revealing his blacker-than-night face. "I'm a mutant, but I'm not your enemy," he said. "My name is Nils Styger, a man with thoughts and feelings just like anyone, just like you." "I'm Robbie Robertson," said the man. "Me and my people have a lot of good reasons to hate and fear mutants." "Not mutants," replied Nils. "Apocalypse, and I hate and fear him just as much as you." "Then why don't you do something about it?" asked Deadpool. "All this bullshit animosity and anger, Apocalypse is a bad dude I don't doubt, but he's just one ugly mutant." "But... but it's Apocalypse," stuttered Abyss. "Apocalypse." "Well, he ain't going to go away if you just sit there crying and mewling about it," Wade said, sounding disgusted. "Stop being such a bunch of crybabies and go show Apocalypse what survival of the fittest really means!" "We can't do it alone," said Robbie, openly angry at Deadpool but really angry at himself, because despite how much sense what the Merc-With-A-Mouth said made, he was scared. "We don't have any powers, any healing factors or mutant abilities." Deadpool smiled beneath his mask, wrapping an arm around a startled Abyss' shoulders. "I just happen to know where we can find some people who do."They had every right to be confident, with Jesse's ability to psionically monkeywrench machinery and Terence to instill mental confusion, they had little to fear from flatscans. They left the Discretion Chamber, ready to clear the vermin out of heaven.

Part 23/37

Authors/Dimitri/Comics/aoo23.txt

PedoMom

Reflecting

...the psychology of the whole thing. Oh gosh. Where to start? I think, if you look at the path my stories have taken over time, it is obvious to see the self-discovery I have been through, but here's some reflection: 1 - I started out with the 'My daughter needs his cock' stories, which begin with the idea of drugging an underage (and hence non-consensual) "play thing" where the child is unaware of the act which has been carried out by adults who simply cannot help themselves from this desire. I guess I was, in a way, looking at how the child could least be harmed in a scenario where the adults were going to carry out their deed regardless. However, this story then took a different course and perhaps reflects my own first "crush" on my third-grade teacher, Mr. Walker. Were those the beginning signs of my sexual cravings? I had been "masturbating" since an early age, around 3 or 4, something my parents simply allowed me to do whenever and wherever I saw fit (much to the embarrassment of my older sister). I do have vivid memories of "humping" the hard marble-like nose of a teddy-bear, in the living room while watching cartoons; of the pleasure that little nubbin gave to my own little nubbin. I don't recall what transpired -- whether it was my sister's comments/reaction that brought my attention to this being a potentially 'shameful' display, but I do remember at some point realizing it was something that ought to only happen behind close doors and without witness. I don't recall any sort of conversation transpiring between myself and an adult to this effect -- as though I was merely left to draw my own conclusions, rather than offered any practical guidance. 2 - My next writing takes shape in the form of the 'Rob finds fun' in which I attempt to normalize the sexuality into a loving and caring scenario, while at the same time giving what might be a poorly displayed, if readily apparent reason for an adult to seek out sexual gratification from a minor/family member. If sex is a natural extension of romantic love, then is it so extremely out of question to suggest that sex is also a natural extension of familial love? I attempt to explore this idea in this series, while also getting bogged down by the physicality of it all -- these stories are being read by a certain audience. I am receiving feedback and attempting to feed the praise -- as any artist would. (i.e. if you like my blue period, perhaps I'll continue with the blue period, since it apparently 'sells'). 3 - Many discussions with other writers in this genre and other readers in this genre ensue. I attempt a story for the sake of the action -- a parent who simply cannot restrain themselves, regardless of time and age, from sexualizing their child. This appears in the form of "Little" and "Littler" (attempted from both the male perspective and the female perspective) ...did this make the child sexual? Or was the child simply a prop, and the sex actually happening in the mind of the adult(s) in the scenario? The child is very obviously not "harmed" in any way. 4 - Some real life reflection here. I am a mother. I have a nearly 13 year old daughter. Not once in the past 13 years have I viewed her body as sexual. Not when she was a baby. Not when she was a toddler. Not when she was young and not now as she enters her own sexual awakenings. I often interacted with her body in the normal function of parenting, from diapers to illness and otherwise. Nothing about it was sexual. In fact, at one point when she was 10, she had a nasty urinary tract infection that seemed to not respond to any oral medication, and I was instructed by our family doctor to administer a more intensive therapy via cream injections directly into her vaginal entrance. While some readers of my stories might get hot and bothered at this idea, I can tell you, the reality was horrific! It was awkward, painful and completely un-sexy in any way, shape or form. In fact, after my daughter placed a pillow over her face so she could distance herself from the event, and I had to still continue my ministrations, I felt like I was practically raping this child, in order to provide her proper medical care. NOT a very pleasant feeling, certainly not for a mother and certainly not for a woman who has been raped. (see point #5) I also do not see the little children I come across at the doctor's office, or my daughter's day care or school, or the park, or the swimming pool, or change rooms, or any of the number of other places I have crossed paths with children, to be sexual. I have been 'attracted' in a sense, to a beautiful smile, or a chubby cheek, or a twinkling eye, or a sweet peal of laughter. But not sexually drawn, only joyously drawn as a way of appreciating something lovely. So if I was not attracted to my daughter, and I have not been attracted to other children.... is there any possible way I can actually be a pedophile? I'm not sure. There's more...... 5 - The issue of rape. I'm going to link to one of my other writings, I'll post it into this assorg directory, rather than link it from my blog (oh, my personal blog is easy to find, but, I'd rather not create the direct hyperlink!) .... The other writing gives the best nuanced detailing of the events in my life considered rape. http://www1.asstr.org/files/Authors/PedoMom/psych/fifth%20time.txt 6 - Specifically "to deal with personal past experiences": When I was 4ish, in the early 80's, I had a babysitter who watched me every day after school. She was an adult, married woman. She had a daughter my age, and we were the best of friends. I remember they took me with them to various places, including away for the weekend to their summer cottage. I remember many things from those experiences -- I remember the cottage trip, the dock down into the water, the "jelly" shoes we borrowed from her mom so we wouldn't have to step in the icky-muddy shore and the same mud which sucked up one of said shoes, and how terrified we were that we would be in SO MUCH TROUBLE. I remember the mom, at the kitchen table upstairs, working on building stained-glass pieces. I remember playing the "hot lava" game across the couch and benches in the basement. I remember the aqua blue shag carpeting in that basement, where we spent many an afternoon watching cartoons, including my favourite: He-Man. I was going to grow up to BE He-Man, and not She-Ra, because whenever She-Ra got in real trouble, her cousin He-Man had to come save her! (roll cross-over episode!)... I remember being taken to a Regal (catalogue) shop where one of the parents worked, and I was allowed to choose anything from a certain section, and I chose a little heart-shaped glass jewelry box... I remember the mom, the kid, but who I don't remember even remotely, is the father. He must have been there... he must have come to the cottage with us. He was likely the one who took us to the Regal outlet. What happened at some point, my family moved away from that area, and I could no longer use that same babysitter. About a month later, the father was arrested and charged for molesting his daughter. My parents say they asked me at the time, to see if anything was happening with me and I seemed to indicate that nothing was. But I have exactly zero memory of this man. This is also right around the time that I started "humping" my toys (masturbating). Did something happen? Do I think something happened? Did he only get caught because I was no longer there for him to play with and he turned to his daughter? Was he always molesting both of us and it was a fluke he only got caught after I moved away? Did nothing at all happen and I've created this whole huge deal in my mind, simply because memories from more than 30 years ago do not include a man, who was likely away at work most of the time while I was at the house after school? I don't know. 7 - I continued to receive praise for my writing on this site and encouragement to continue writing. Some requests for certain things. Some suggestions for other things... I attempt to answer these messages and encourage what I assume they want to hear from me. I try out some of the suggestions in later chapters of some of my on-going writing. I'm not sure how I feel about it all. On some level I enjoy the praise. On some level I'm not entirely sure I want it. On another level, I can't imagine wanting anything more than praise for my works. I start to question why I'm writing THIS sort of story and not others. I have all sort of inner turmoil and questions I don't know how to ask. I continue to write, maybe trying to access my subconscious in this way? 8 - Now comes Captive. What if the parent were forced to enter into this experience. Completely against her will. What if her body defies her. What if she is surprised by how she feels, by how her child appears to respond, by the ease of her captors manner.......... what if? Does that make it okay? Can it ever be okay? What am I really asking here?Am I trying to create a scenario in which what might have happened to me as a child has some framework of reference -- like maybe he was in a loveless marriage? Maybe he was sexualized as a child and just assumed it was right? Maybe if it's in a loving way, maybe... maybe... maybe... I think I'm exploring? I don't know. So many times I've thought to delete all my stories. So many times I've wondered what the heck am I doing? So many times I've questioned where these stories come from? I don't plan them out. There's no storyboard and plot-lines. I just sit at a computer and let the words fall from my fingertips. There's nearly no editing after the fact, other than for typos or glaring grammatical errors. Do I have a muse? Is there some greater power out there using me as a vessel to convey a story that must find purchase? I'm not sure what I think of that muse, if so! Where do I go next? What other storylines do I play with? 9 - Olivia came directly from a request. I did not create it for me. I crafted it specifically to meet a need in the community I seem to have found myself. I have no idea how that makes me feel. Is this like a painter taking a job request, to paint a portrait to specification? Am I merely carrying out the deed, and have no further attachment to it? Except, Olivia went from a short quip, which was the fulfillment of the request, and suddenly took on a whole life of its own, becoming 3 more chapters. Is that me, now? Is this story what I think happens out there? 10 - Legality. Well, I'm pretty sure if anyone decides to argue the point, these stories could send me to jail. I'm not really certain on the law, I know that I'm writing them for my own exploration, but I don't know if that matters, in the long run. It's strange the way our justice system works. An author can write an entire novel all about the execution of a murder, the whole tricky plan not to get caught... and then the novel can be picked up and turned into a screenplay, and actors can carry out this plot... but still, it's seen as fiction and it's okay. The news can show horrific images of horrific events, post warnings of their horrific nature, before showing them -- but they're just reporting actual events, so they're not guilty of traumatizing their viewers, they're just reporting the facts. Yet here I write, pixels on a digital screen, stories that depict something our society sees as the absolute most egregious act -- the sexualization of a child. And suddenly, WHAM! It's potential jail time. No one was harmed; perhaps I was helped in unfolding my inner demons by writing it, perhaps a reader was sated and did not need to seek out the reality, because living in my fantasy was enough... but somehow, it is so very wrong that I must be punished. Ugh. I don't even know where my head is at. I know that if my family found this, I'd be disowned and shunned. I know my daughter would never understand. I know my (divorced) parents would see the other as at fault -- my father was too liberal, my mother wasn't liberal enough... I don't know where any of this comes from. If you're still reading, perhaps you're as much a glutton for punishment as I am... ... that's the end of my mental ponderings for one night.

Authors/PedoMom/psych/reflecting.txt

Weasel

Wesley's Break

'All I've been doing is sitting around!' thought Wesley. 'I am so bored!' His eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so long. Since he had been on leave from the Academy, all of his studies had been suspended to give him a 'break' from school. Not only a break from all of his studies, but most of his duties had been too. The worst part was that he wasn't scheduled to catch a transport to go back to the Academy for another two weeks. He had requested to have some more assignments, but the captain himself had insisted that he take the time off. While the captain looked back on his time at the academy with a certain fondness, he also remembered that it was the busiest time in his life. Consequently, Wesley started to do some studying for his next few courses at the Academy. Advanced Biology was one of his first courses, so he had been pouring through the reference texts in the computer. "...Wesley?" "Huh? Who?" said Wesley. Suddenly he realized he was talking to air, then he realized, "Crusher here." "And here as well. Wesley, I expected you in the Lab 15 minutes ago, or does your busy schedule have no room for quality time with your mother?" "Oh, sorry Mom. I was just think... Never mind, I'll be there in a few minutes, OK?" "OK, Crusher out." "Crusher out," he groaned. "God, that really gets on my nerves." Wesley smiled to himself. He glanced at the screen again and noticed what was on the screen. "That's it. All I do is... no, I gotta get going." He tapped the screen to shut it off and slipped out the door to Med Lab 3. Beverly understood what Wesley was going through. There had been times when the most she could look forward to in a day was a couple of checkups and some paperwork. However, she never complained about the slow times. All she had to do was to remember the several times when she had to convert several of the ship's cargo bays into makeshift 'field hospitals' and run herself ragged for days on end. To keep Wesley busy, she had allowed him access to one of the Med Labs that weren't being used. Fortunately, the med lab was visible through one of the windowed walls. Their original purpose was to let the nurse on duty keep an eye on the patients, but in this case, it let her keep an eye on Wesley. She heard the familiar hiss of the door, and Wesley strode in. "Wesley, I let you borrow a whole lab to let you 'study' for the advanced biology class," she said with a stern look on her face. "Oh, come on, Mom. No one is using that lab, and you know it." They both smiled. "Well, maybe, but that doesn't get you out of doing some work. Now you know what I am doing is against the Captain's orders, so if you don't use it, you lose it," she said with a little more conviction in her voice. "OK, I do have some things I was working on." "Anything I can help with? If I do say so myself, I am a little good in biology," she smiled, knowing what the response would be. "No, thanks. Besides, you won't be there when I am taking the Lab finals in my courses," he said as he wandered over to the Lab. She could see a few of the monitors from her office, and she could see the diagrams of organs from species in this sector. Wesley powered up the main terminal in the lab. He had the info that he was looking at in his quarters up on the screen. He had lofty goals, and he didn't expect to finish the project, but he had stumbled onto something. He started to work furiously, having the computer run simulations and tests on his new hypothesis. Beverly came into the lab first thing in the morning, and Wesley was already there, or had he never left? She thought that he must be tired, but then realized that he was doing what he loved best. He was working. She decided to let him have his 'fun', but that she would have a talk with him later. Wesley had been working furiously. His first test was ready. He had run the simulations dozens of times over the last night. Maybe it was the excitement or maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he picked up the hypospray and put it up to his own arm. He heard the hiss, and then he decided to go scan himself on one of the med station's beds. He turned off his terminal, turned on the bed sensors, and then slipped into sleep. The lights lowered in the lab. 'Good,' Beverly thought. 'He needs the rest.' End Part 1 CHAPTER: Part 2 - Awakenings CORRECTED_TEXT: Wesley blinked a few times and slowly lifted himself from the bed. He blinked a couple more times and realized that the lights had been turned down in the lab. He was ready to have the computer raise the lights slowly when they suddenly snapped back to full strength. "Well, it's about time, I thought I was going..." "What do you think you were doing!?! First you pester me to come down here, now you stick red hot pokers in my eyes. Can't I have just a moment of peace?" He spun around and walked away to clean up a bit. Beverly choked back a response and went back to her office. She would let him cool off a little and come back later to have a little 'chat'. He had definitely never talked to her like that before. Wesley splashed some water on his face. 'That bitch! I really wish I could teach her a lesson.' Suddenly, images and ideas began popping into his head. "Yes, of course! My research. I can adapt it for a little surprise." Wesley's original research had been into slowing the aging process. He had thought of the idea while reading about Ponce De Leone in his ancient myths class. He hadn't really taken the idea seriously, but it was a good time killer. While doing his research, he drifted into ideas of slowing the process using viruses keyed to activate certain glands in humanoids. He had used his first test injection on himself, and he would check the results later, but for now, he had to have his revenge. He decided to see what would happen if he let the computer do a little alteration on his project. Most of the lesser security programs allowed even a rank of 'Ensign' access to some of the less important systems. A little alteration, programming, and creativity should do the trick. "Let's see," Wesley said. "Ah! Computer, we must have a talk." End Part 2 CHAPTER: Part 3 - The Experiment CORRECTED_TEXT: "Two hot fudge sundaes. Extra hot fudge." The computer whirred, and 'magically' the sundaes appeared. Beverly thought it must be magic to make sundaes this good. "Beverly! I'm shocked. Rough day?" The counselor gladly took the treat from the good doctor and curled up on her sofa. She hadn't thought this was going to be a professional visit, but any doubts she had were washed away. "Is it Wesley?" she asked with genuine sincerity. "Yes. Not only has he been running himself ragged in the lab studying, but he snapped at me today." "Well, he has been under a lot of stress at the Academy lately. Maybe it's good that he gets it out of his system now. Don't worry, he'll come out of it." "But he has been working himself so hard. I only let him do it because he seems happy doing his little projects. Maybe we need the Borg to attack us, or a warp core breach or something to keep him busy," she quipped. "I would appreciate it if you would talk to him. Not in a forced environment, but if you could just stop in and talk." "I don't know." "Oh, please? I will make you the best banana split you ever had if you do this, OK?" "Well, all right. But I expect a lot of whipped cream," she said as she dropped the spoon into the empty dish. "Thanks, Deanna." She put down her also empty dish and gave the counselor a big hug. Deanna felt a little strange, but accepted the hug. After that, Beverly picked up the two dishes, took them to the replicator, and left. She didn't know what came over her, but she shrugged it off for now. The computer beeped. Wesley looked over at the terminal. "The counselor's quarters. Bonus." He was examining the results from his extended scan. He hadn't found anything wrong yet. His first experiment was with the chemicals dealing with brain activity. He had created a virus that would help to increase his brain activity. It wasn't meant to be a permanent change; he had already worked out a 'cure' for the virus. Sure, the computers could run perfect simulations of what chemicals could do on the brain, but he needed to know exactly what the results would be. In hindsight, picking himself as the first subject wasn't all that bright, but he was tired, and there wasn't anything he could do now. However, there were no regrets in Wesley's mind. Ideas and thoughts were coming quickly and clearly to his mind. He hadn't felt this refreshed in a long time.He kept thinking back to how easy it was to enter the ship's computer and enact a little 'revenge' on his mother. He thought that he should start to expand his tests, but he needed to run a few tests first. Just then, he heard the familiar hiss of the doors for the other room. "Hello? Doctor?" Ensign Ro said as she walked to the doctor's office. She never really needed the services of the doctors on the Enterprise, and as such was very uncomfortable in this environment. Normally, she wouldn't even think of coming to the labs, but she wanted to have someone check on her arm. She was doing a particularly vigorous workout the other day, and her arm was still sore. She wouldn't think this was the sort of thing to annoy the Chief Medical Officer about, but since her cabin was just down the hall, she thought she would just stop in. "Doctor? Doctor Crusher? Are you here?" she said, peering through the window into the main office. "She's not here right now." Ro spun quickly, too quickly. She bumped her arm on the door frame, and fire shot through her arm. She let out a little whimper and immediately grabbed her arm. Wesley quickly came over and said, "Are you OK? I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Ro chuckled. "You just caught me off guard. You're Wesley, right? Is your mother around? As you can see, I need a little bit of help." "Oh, I can have a medical team here in under a minute." "No, no. It's not all that serious. I'll just come back later." Ro turned to leave. "Wait. I feel bad. Here, come over to the other lab, let me take a look at it. You don't grow up as a doctor's child and not learn a little about the trade." Wesley led Ro into the lab, instructed her to get up on the bed, and let him take a look at the arm. Ro tried to roll up the sleeve on her tunic, but the pain flared up again. "Oh, sorry again. I guess I should brush up on my bedside manner." He ran into the other room and grabbed a hypospray with a pain inhibitor. He placed it up to her arm and heard the familiar hiss. Once again, the ideas began to flood his mind. "Your bedside needs work, but at least you work fast. How come no one is in here? I mean, this is a medical lab, isn't it?" "Yes, but Mom, I mean Dr. Crusher, said that since it was so slow, she was going to give some of the medical staff some R&R. She has minimal staffing in all of the labs, and she thought since she was the Chief, she would take care of the lab herself. Besides, most of the staff has quarters near here and can be here..." "...in under a minute. I got that. Well, I've got to get back to my quarters. I have a couple of days off myself, and plan to rest up." Ro began to get up. "Hold on," Wesley said. "I wouldn't be much of a doctor if I didn't see that arm. Now roll up that sleeve." Ro was about to protest, but decided to humor him. As she rolled up her sleeve, she found a rather large black and blue mark on her arm. "Oh," remarked Wesley. "That doesn't look so good. Here, I have just the thing to take care of that." Ro realized that this was a little worse than she thought. "Is this going to take long?" "No, but swing your legs up on the bed. This next injection makes people a little dizzy." Wesley grabbed one of his hyposprays from next to the terminal. This one was actually designed to help regenerate damaged tissue on a large scale, but he figured that it couldn't do much harm. Besides, he had the 'cure' if it didn't work, and he could have one of the other doctors look at her if it didn't work. After all, he wasn't a doctor. He pressed the hypospray against Ro's arm, and again, its contents were injected into her bloodstream. Almost immediately, the discoloration left her arm. Ro's eyes rolled upwards, and her eyelids fluttered shut. She had passed out. What would Wesley do? He quickly studied the readouts from the sensors in the bed. He discovered that her vital signs were strong, and she was safely asleep. He shrugged and figured that she had fainted. End Part 3 Part 4 - Experimentation Beverly was taking a walk, eventually, she planned to arrive at Ten Forward. Ever since her visit with Troi and her overwhelming need to hug her, she had felt strange. She wouldn't say that it excited her, but it was definitely having some kind of an effect. The more she walked, the hotter it got. 'Boy, I am out of shape,' she thought. It wasn't until she turned a corner and bumped into an unfamiliar lieutenant. She stepped back, and her usually impeccable red hair fell into her eyes. She looked upon the man in front of her not as a fellow officer, but as a pure instrument of her desire. She felt every inch of her skin, some inches felt a lot better than others. "Excuse me, sir. Sorry," said the officer clad in a yellow uniform as he attempted to steady the higher-ranked officer in front of him. Her mind and body betrayed her. Her nipples were actually visible through her uniform. Her breath was coming quicker. 'What's wrong with me?' She forced through the haze in her mind. She didn't know what was happening, but she knew what was going to happen. At this point, it was out of her hands, and in his. "No, excuse me, I wasn't looking." She was letting him go, then, "You know, I have never really liked the term 'sir', why don't you call me Beverly?" "Um, OK, Beverly. I have to be getting to... Are you feeling OK? You look a little, warm." "Warm, no. Hot, yes. I want to throw you down right here and fuck your brains out," her voice was whispery. "Well, I am due to go on duty in a few minutes, but thanks for the offer." "I'll write you a note." Then she flung herself at him. Her lips were sealed to his, any resistance he had was quickly diminishing. Her body was on fire. She was kidding about fucking him in the corridor, but it was quickly becoming her only alternative. He broke the kiss. "Jordan to Maintenance." "Maintenance, go ahead Jordan." "I'm going to be a little late for my shift," glancing at Beverly, "Medical reasons." "Anything we should know about?" "No, I'll contact you later. Jordan out." 'A janitor? I'm about to fuck a janitor? Who cares if I hump the doors of a turbo shaft?' She smiled and then took Janitor Jordan by the arm. Wesley was going over the latest batch of test samples. Everything looked like it was going smoothly. He began to hear Ro moaning. He thought she might be waking up. He spun around only to see Ro with one hand on her crotch and one hand on her breast. The readouts on the wall said that she was asleep, and her eyes were closed, but her hands were in warp speed. It was then that he noticed that several of her hormones were almost off the scale. He stared back at Ro only to see something new and amazing. The front of her uniform began swelling. The more it swelled, the louder she moaned. Her other hand drifted up from between her legs to start caressing her other breast. They were beginning to stretch the already tight fabric of the front of her uniform. He saw that the zipper at the top of the jumpsuit began to separate in response to the growth. Wesley's curiosity led his eyes down to the writhing woman's crotch. The front was completely soaked. Wesley had about all he could take. He couldn't decide whether to administer the cure or to screw the Bajoran silly. He reached over and picked up the hypospray with the cure. He looked at it and said, 'Oh well.' He placed the injector to her arm, and then the images came flooding in. His mind was filled with images of him and Ro in positions that would have shocked even the crewmen of a deep space exploration ship. "No!" he cried, as he threw the hypospray back at the table. He grabbed the front of Ro's uniform and peeled it away from her white flesh. It was then he had a flash of brilliance. "Computer. Reduce Gravity to 0.00 on the Med Bed." The bed had this setting so that more delicate operations could be performed without risk to the patient's health. With the gravity off, he was able to lift Ro off of the table and strip off her uniform. Starfleet's dress code when it comes to undergarments is pretty liberal. Ro's policy was even more liberal. As Wesley pulled the last of her uniform over her tiny feet, he was able to gaze upon every bit of Ro's body. She wore no underwear. Her breasts had nearly tripled in size at this point, and it looked like they were continuing. Ro had orgasmized at least four times while Wesley was pulling her uniform off of her. Wesley now stripped off his own uniform and climbed into the Zero G with Ro. The momentum of lifting and pulling her uniform off had Ro in an almost standing position. Wesley lifted Ro up so her cunt was in line with his face. He could see that her fluids had run down and coated the backs of her legs from when she was still lying down on the table. Wesley dove in. The first touch sent waves of pleasure through the helpless alien in front of him. The wave continued and didn't seem to ebb at all. 'Hmm...' Wesley thought. 'Sweet, not like what I would expect. Good thing she is already out. I don't think she would be conscious for much longer.' He looked up, and Ro's breasts had stopped growing. However, from his current position, he could see anything past the peaks of her breasts. 'Boy, I could use something like this when I'm walking across the campus when it's raining.' He slowly pulled her down, and himself up. Luckily, the beds were equipped with low-level restraining fields to keep bodies from floating off. Once he was equal to her now gigantic breasts, he began to suck and bite at her nipples. Even though her breasts were now huge, her nipples were still what he would classify as normal. They seemed to still be fairly small compared to the melons on her chest. Once again, the analytical side took over. He noticed that her muscles were much smaller. That must account for the increase in the upper regions.He grabbed her ass, it felt rounded, and he couldn't really tell but he thought her hips had also filled out. He wasn't completely familiar with Bajoran anatomy, but that was why the Academy required advanced biology. Suddenly, "...uuugh, Fuck me. Please, I want..." Ro was back to rubbing herself furiously on the crotch. This time both hands were buried and pumping away. Wesley couldn't take it anymore. He spun her around and spread her ass. It wasn't a gentle entry, but it did the job. He had never taken this particular 'course' before, but since the other entry was otherwise occupied. Just as Wesley had pressed into her, she froze. Wesley was afraid that she had woken up, then it happened. She let out a yell and her whole body shook. Wesley began pumping furiously. He could feel her contract as she was wracked with a constant orgasm, she pressed back harder and harder, pounding as hard as they both could. Wesley reached around and was massaging her breasts. She still had both hands going at it. Then he felt it. Her breasts began to shrink a little. She was now panting and back to a low moan. Wesley knew something was going on, so he had to hurry. It didn't take much to push him over the edge. He came for what seemed like hours, but in this case it wasn't quite that long. Once he opened his eyes, he found that they had fucked so hard they were upside down and floating against the ceiling. He pushed off, pushed out of the field, and got off the bed. While he got his uniform back on, he set the computer to bring his specimen slowly back to the table. He was in a hurry to get her uniform back on before she woke up when he heard "Mmmf, Wesley? What happened? My clothes? My Breasts! Oh no, what have you done?" Indeed, both breasts had stopped shrinking, but now she had almost no chest at all, only two little nubs for nipples. Then Wesley noticed that her figure had lost some of its curviness as well. In fact, her shape wasn't very different from his own. She started to get off the bed. "Computer, restraining field full strength," Wesley barked. The computer complied, a little rougher than he had intended. She was thrown back into a lying position, unable to move. "Don't worry Ro, I can fix this," and Wesley started up his computer."You may be able to get a doctor here in under a minute, but I can do the same with security! Now let me go!" Ro was really getting upset. "Go ahead and try." Wesley had no reaction. "OK, cadet. Ro to Security." Nothing. "Ro to Worf!" Still nothing. "Computer, recognize Ro, access code Delta Omega Beta Four." There was not the familiar chirp from the computer. "What is going on? There is no way you have that kind of security clearance." "I don't, but the Chief Medical Officer does. You see, Mom got upset with people always being bugged while in examinations, so once someone is on the beds, your communicator is 'off'. Also, thanks to security for turning off the computer access. They figured it was better not to let people who are probably under duress access to the computer. So that was disabled as well. The only thing left on is a subroutine to notify the medical officer on duty. And at this moment, I am the Med on duty." Suddenly, the terminal on the wall beeped. Wesley went over and punched some keys. He began chuckling to himself. "Lieutenant Stewart Jordan. Only two months on ship. Assigned to..." He blurted out a loud laugh. "Engineering, Maintenance Engineering! She got nailed by a janitor! Well, that's not it. Computer, randomize virus to next configuration and continue." He turned to Ro. "I think she should be busy for a while. Now, as for you. I hadn't accounted for my virus causing such a radically different effect on your 'species'." He inspected her completely naked, although extremely underdeveloped body. "My original plan had been to make a virus that would slow down the aging process. It did it by stimulating different organs and glands to release the body's own chemicals that assist in the body's own regeneration. As I experimented through last night, I found that I could isolate certain chemicals and cause a response in the body. From there, it was simple to generate a virus that, once released, would help to set off slight imbalances that the body would automatically correct. The body itself caused the changes to take place. I gave you an injection to simply help the body to repair itself faster. Of course, that was a projection on 'human' systems. I didn't think the change would be so radically different on another species. But it did, neat huh?" Ro was barely listening to the Cadet spout his 'technobabble'. She was more interested in trying to get out. By the time he had finished, she had given up for now and waited for an opportunity. "Yeah, virus, chemicals, interesting. But what happened to me? Can't you figure out a 'cure' for this virus?" Wesley didn't know if Ro had any idea what Wesley had done to her.

Part 1 - Discoveries

Collections/LEXtext/StarTrek/wes2.txt

Gcabbett

Out and About the Neighborhood

'Tis stated that only a limited few of mankind can recall much before the age of three. Usually what we remember is that which we have been told by the family and friends. I fit in the three and older category. I remember bits and pieces of memorable occasions when I could indulge my curiosity of a sexual nature towards the females in my comings and goings. The older I got, the more I can recall. This is a memoir of a horny kid. Perhaps somewhere near the age of five, I vividly remember bathing with my mom and my two-year-old sister when it came bath time. Mom would sit at one end of the tub with her legs open, touching the sides of the tub, with my sister sitting between the open legs, showing me her little open slit, while mom exposed her black hairy vagina to us as we played in the water. The warm water must have relaxed mom as she would soon have her eyes closed. I took advantage of that closed-eye moment to not only check out mom's interesting crotch, but also wash my sister's wide-open, silky pink vagina. My mother must have been aware of my need to exercise my male curiosity because she would only laughingly scold me in a mild way when she found me scrubbing my sister's lovely little puffy slit. My sister just giggled her head off, and I had a decent woody for a five-year-old. One has to admit that sexual awareness and curiosity start with sisters and female cousins, even moms, for us young studs. It always amazes me when I allow my mind to review the delightful past, the eagerness of these lovely young ladies to indulge me whenever I suggested a bit of tête-à-tête in some interesting way. My sister was easy to convince to let me tickle her warm little mons. We'd find a place to hide in the house where we could each stroke the other's sex until nosy mom came calling, wanting to know what we were doing in the closet. I'd tell her, "just seeing how dark it was in there." My mother was a coffee klatch type of woman. She and the neighbor ladies rotated to each other's houses starting on Monday, for coffee and stories, and sharing their tales of misery. None of the group were much over twenty-two or three. In the WWII era, women wore cotton housedresses and not much else, especially in the summertime. With nothing better to do while these morning sessions took place, I would lay on the kitchen floor, messing with a toy and listening to the gossip and tales. I soon discovered that none of the four or five women wore underpants much. Needless to say, I was soon under the table admiring each of the hairy snatches where I discovered the stimulating pungent odors that collected under the table. Oh, there was a blatant white Kotex pad (I have to be truthful in that I had no knowledge in the matter of women's monthlies) or an occasional white cotton panties with the owner's dark pubic hair peeping out here and there, from time to time. Not one of these women paid any attention to me sitting under the table, star-gazing and rubbing my pulsing erection. Just a kid. On more than one occasion, I received a hot show as at least one of the coffee crowd casually massaged her pussy, her active hand hidden under the table edge, her legs scissoring back and forth at her knees, as she listened to the relating of last night's sexual exploits by one of the girls. My mother was not exempt from stimulating her hairy pudenda either, I noticed. These coffee klatches could last the better part of a morning. I was also blessed with female playmates, the offspring of the visiting ladies. Sometimes one or two of these kids would join me under the table, just as interested in the view as I was. After watching the adult activity for a short while, the playmates were receptive to my hot, eager hands massaging their crotches. I was amazed how hot and agitated these young ladies became after just a few minutes of fingering their wide-open slits. The labia would swell, their love button would stiffen after a few strokes of my fingers, the heat and moisture inundating my hands; nothing like playing with two at the same time. They would soon have one of their hands on top of mine as I worked away. Usually they would reciprocate by massaging my hard-on as I fingered their lovely pudenda. I don't recall any of us reaching a soul-wrenching orgasm, but maybe. There was definitely closed eyes, heavy breathing through a partly open mouth, and flushed faces along with the hot, moist, silky pussy, lots of butt movement. I never hesitated to encourage them to join me in a secluded closet or even under a bed, in whomever's house we happened to be in that day. Of course, once ensconced in privacy, off would come their panties, and my pants and undershorts. After I had introduced them to my penis next to their vaginas, these girls were eager to be stimulated even more. Now you must wonder how a five-year-old could know about fucking. Well, our house was a new move-on two-room where the main bed was in the front room as was my bed. I awoke from a nap one early afternoon to witness my sometime dad and mom fucking like there was no tomorrow on the main bed maybe ten feet from me. A viewing kid didn't seem to bother his lustful passion as he hammered mom's honey pot. Anyway, I got an eyeful and some education. Hidden away, I would take turns fingering and kissing my young companion's pussies. They were more than ready for me to place my erect prick between their puffy labia after my eager tongue had added to their readiness. Cunnilingus must come natural to many at an early age. I didn't hesitate when asked to kiss their delightful silk-like pussies. Now, I might hesitate for at least a few seconds if I was staring at a big, super hairy mons. In the darkness, I couldn't see their faces as we fucked, but their heavy breathing and humping my cock as I pushed against their hot, moist pussies was enough. Their subtle sexual essence tantalized my olfactory senses, traveling down my nerve system to my overly hard cock. One of the girls must have had a minimal hymen as I was surprised to be able to penetrate, to slip into her tight canal after several pumps against her open flower. She humped even harder now, rotating her butt as I stroked. Her companion soon reminded us it was her turn. Of course, I had to accommodate - fair's fair. Bathing with mom, my sister and I in the tub at the same time didn't bother mom one bit. I grew more curious as well as braver each bath session as I admired her lovely hairy vagina. My sister and I would take turns sitting between her legs. I made a point to move back against her pussy if I could, accidentally touching it as often as I pretended to scratch my butt. Mom didn't seem to mind unless my fingers lingered. She would say, "careful there, mister." I would then refocus on my sister's inviting pussy for a while, then I would scratch my butt again with my unoccupied hand. Each time I went next to mom's pudenda, I was sure the area was hotter. I liked to pretend I was swimming on these bath sessions. I would make a point to face mom's heavy bush as I moved forward between her open legs. Of course, I couldn't help bumping into her open labia. I kissed her lovely open flower several times before she said, "behave yourself," but not too unkindly. We eventually moved to a different part of the city. Changing neighborhoods can be exciting for a kid. I was about seven at that time, as I recall. I was pleasantly surprised to find I had a new potential female playmate next door. She was a cute, outgoing seven-year-old blonde. Her dad was a builder of some sort. He had converted their old rear garage off the alley into a sleeping room/playhouse. I didn't hesitate to pursue getting into her panties early on in our acquaintance, as it seemed the proper thing to do to get to know one another better. And the playhouse with this large, full-sized bed practically shouted at me - "COME HERE!" She really surprised me as I made my pitch - she quickly agreed, stepped out of her clothes, all of her clothes, then bounced into bed. She was hot from the moment I ran my fingers down her nude, silky slit. Her moisture was abundant. My finger slipped into her hot, throbbing canal. Again, very little hymen. Immediately, she commenced humping my eager fingers. She mewed and moaned as I stroked her wide-open flower.My overstiff prick reminded me it was time to have sex. I kissed her love button, then crawled between her tan legs. My tool kissed her hot, moist slit. I started to pump up and down her slit. On the third inward pass, I slipped into her hot, tight canal. I was in heaven as I fucked. She met me stroke for stroke, "ooing" and "aahing" with each movement. I actually climaxed for the first time. Dry, but nevertheless an orgasm. I was paralyzed for a few moments. She kept right on fucking, "ooing" and "aahing" with each stroke. I stayed erect. (Nice to Be a Kid) She was not about to quit. When I relive that wonderful occasion in my mind, I surmise she must have been a nymph. At seven, no less. I grew nervous at the thought of an uninvited visitor. I finally convinced her to stop for now; tomorrow was another day. Our play time continued on a regular basis - daily; neither of us tiring of the wonderful stroking. After the first time, I had lightly tongued her love button, and she demanded more time spent on the oral foreplay before I could climb between her firm, wide-spread legs and savor her hot, moist flower. She would pull hard on my butt cheeks and moan as I pushed in, bumping her clitoris with each stroke. I don't think she had really experienced a strong climax, if one at all, until we became steady little lovers. When I would finally soften to the point of no more stroking, she would again beg for me to kiss her still erect clitoris. I could never say no, knowing full well I would be hard again in a few licks and kisses. What a delightful stimulant to smell her sexual essence as I tasted her moist flower. It was during this period of time that mom hired a babysitter. I remember a girl of perhaps 13, who lived across the street. A plain, typical girl with a rectangular face, wide-set eyes over a turned-up nose, and a pronounced limp from a slightly deformed leg. Even with the limp, she would attain some natural beauty in time. To a seven-year-old boy, she looked good. Her instructions were to put my sister and me down for our afternoon naps. The three of us bedded down on the full-size bed mom, sis, and I slept on. My sister nodded off to dreamland almost immediately. I had other ideas. It didn't take much pestering to get the sitter's panties off; she wasn't wearing any. She asked me in a quiet voice to run my fingers lightly all over her thighs as she pulled her cotton dress up to her waist. I was in heaven as I gazed at her fat-lipped pussy with the pink lips showing, and a tuft of brown hair at the beginning of her slit. I removed my underpants, which I normally slept in, and rubbed my erect tool. She closed her eyes soon after I started to feather massage, as she had asked. She opened her legs quite wide. Her sexual aroma was pungent and stimulating to my erect, throbbing prick. I watched wide-eyed as her love button became very pronounced, similar to my prick, I realized. She ran her fingers lightly over her erect clitoris, then moving down to her swollen labia, finally inserting her middle finger into that moist canal. The heel of her hand massaged her erect button as she slowly finger-fucked her inviting canal. She moaned with each stroke. Her ass moved to meet her finger insertion. I panted and "oohed" with all that was going on. I changed position, now lying between her wide-spread legs on my stomach, my face almost touching her knuckle of the probing finger. The essence was stronger, intoxicating. I moved her hand away from her open flower. My face seemed to bury itself in the wetness of her open pussy. She put her hand on my head and pulled me tight. I ran my tongue up and down her open crevice, tasting her tantalizing hot wetness, my nose rubbing her erect clitoris. Her humping became more urgent. Her moans louder. I was stroking my hard-on in unison to her movements. I sensed she was close to something as she pulled my face tighter to her pussy. I was already exploding as she gagged and yelled at nearly the same time, soaking my face and filling my mouth as she released. A new experience for a seven-year-old. I collapsed, totally worn out. She was not done yet. She motioned me up so we were face to face. She kissed my lips as her warm, soft, wet hand grasped my still hard prick. I can only guess she collected some of her wetness before taking hold of my prick, sliding up and down the tender shaft. My fingers quickly found her wet slit as she stimulated me. Whatever de-tumescent that had taken place when I climaxed was gone. I was super hard again. She finally pulled me over between her legs. I knew what to do at that moment. I didn't have much, but it slipped in to her canal very nicely. She proceeded to help me fuck her by grabbing my hips and ass. We fucked for at least ten minutes. She was at her peak again. I could feel her vagina muscles clasping my prick. She gagged and yelled as before, but louder, I think. Her climax was contagious; I exploded again too. Her wetness saturated my prick and balls. The smell of our activity permeated the room. She continued to fuck my prick as she achieved another loud climax. I will never tire of the pungent, tantalizing smell.She made little noises as her grinding against my fingers and hand were more aggressive than ever before. She went faster on my cock. Her other hand held my hand tighter to her small wet pussy, her ass bumping up and down on the bed as she gyrated her pelvis. I was now determined to bring her to her orgasm. Suddenly, she was softly oohing and moaning as the special moment rolled through her young body. She arched her back. Her moment magically set me shooting all over her hand and belly. She nearly passed out because she went limp and quiet, still holding my messy prick. Sometime after midnight, mom came in from her waitress job at some honky-tonk in the area. The sudden illumination from the low-wattage bulb awoke me from my blissful short nap now at my place at the foot of the bed. Mom's back was to me and the bed as she stripped to her bra and panties. I watched the movements as she lastly removed her bra, exposing a bit of one breast with the brown areola. She turned to face the bed as she reached for the chain of the overhead ceiling light. I pretended to be asleep with just a slight peephole to admire the sexual beauty before me. Her breasts were firm. The brown nipples stood out like my erection. Since young girls had no developed breasts, I had not become interested in that part of their anatomy. The vagina was the object of my attention. Mom had moved sis over towards the wall and crawled in on the outside of the bed. The combined aroma of odors exuding from her body as she crawled into bed tickled my olfactory sensors. I lifted my end of the covers after a few minutes to inhale mom's feminine essence. I was not disappointed. In fact, I smelled a strong sexual odor that I remembered smelling that time my sometime dad finished fucking mom. My tool was at full attention. I knew I had to be patient while she dozed off. I hugged her foot and leg that was next to me. I must have waited at least twenty minutes 'til I could hear her relaxed breathing with a slight snoring sound. I lifted her leg over me. She readjusted her body slightly but continued to lightly snore. My right foot found her damp panty crotch. I lightly began my massage. Her flower was exuding warmth along with a lot of moisture tonight. Her labia were already puffy. She continued to sleep. I continued to massage that delightful pudenda, her abundant pubic hair causing tingling sensations on my active foot. She became more active with her movements as well as wetter. Her snoring stopped. I stopped. I received a nice surprise as her hand covered the top of my foot, pulling it tighter to her hot pussy. She was soon fucking my foot with all abandonment. I could feel her erect clitoris rubbing against my toes as she rocked and humped. I was fast approaching my orgasm. Her slight mewing and now intense fucking of my foot pushed me over the edge. I shivered as I released into the palm of my other hand. My hot juice continued to ooze out, warming my stomach as she climaxed. It was actually more than one. How many, I don't know. She still held my foot tight to her wet crotch. I could feel her throbbing pussy as I lay quiet, totally drained of all energy. I must have fallen asleep in that position because my foot was still in the same wonderful place when I awoke that morning. Sometime around the early part of the beginnings of my ninth summer, my two female cousins showed up. They were the grandkids of mom's aunt and uncle. The oldest was nine months older than me, and her sister was about the same age as sis. We knew one another and looked forward to our occasional times together. The cousins lived towards the southeast end of the city. Mom, sis and I had visited on several occasions. Of course, kids being kids, we soon were playing doctor in their playhouse, and nearly always getting caught by their parents with the attendant lecture and punishment. To this day, I believe their mom hated men or sex or maybe both. But at the grandparents' in the north end of town, the four of us had more freedom to explore and experience young sex. My older cousin and I would make use of the smelly outhouse from time to time, but the best seclusion was the hodge-podge tents we managed to assemble from a variety of material. Being summertime and all, the four of us were allowed to sleep in these tents. Needless to say, I had the girls shed of their panties as soon as the house lights were out. I can remember moving from girl to girl, giving all a few hot vaginal kisses to get things started. The older cousin, very well developed for ten, demanded more of my attention, which didn't seem to bother the younger girls. They just chatted and watched while waiting patiently with their lovely pudenda exposed. My older cousin would quietly direct my face to her flower, with a hint of soft hair at the top of her slit. I had introduced her to my tongue all over her silky pussy a few days after she had arrived. I must admit, I had become addicted to oral sex play. I would strive to bring my partners to a climax. It just came natural to me. My tongue found her slit heavily moist after I had thoroughly kissed her for several minutes as one would kiss a mouth. She was now starting to fuck my face as I sucked her erect clitoris. She nearly smothered me as she held my face tight to her hot wet vagina. I would lift up for a breath of air, and she would pull me back into position. During this brief moment getting a breath of air, I could see the two younger girls watching with rapt attention. My prick had advanced in length another inch over the last year. The oral sex was stimulating me also, so I was busy stroking my stiff prick as I worked her closer to a climax. She gave all indications with her increasing ass movement; she was fast approaching rapture. Her legs were up near her beginning breasts. I didn't bother to look at her tits, I was too busy nearing my climax, as I nuzzled her nice hot honey pot. I knew she was climaxing as she pulled my face into her crotch a bit more, and her ass started pumping up and down in slow motion. Only a very quiet mewing came from her mouth; she was not a screamer. She would hold the up position, gyrating her hips a bit, then down for a brief moment, then push up and gyrate again. By now, I was squirting juice all over the ground, bucking and trembling with each squirt. She finally calmed down, releasing her grip on my head. I just turned my head to the side and laid it on her tuft of pubic hair. The younger girls were all eyes and open mouths, mesmerized at the scene. She later told me she had climaxed four times, each more intense as she progressed. Our foursome activity went on for the entire summer under the comfort of the front yard tent. More often, it was just me and my older cousin enjoying a hot fifteen or twenty minutes together in sexual bliss, fucking like rabbits. With her help, I had disposed of most of her hymen early into their arrival. I had no problem slipping my slick erect four inches into her inviting wet canal with a bit of foreplay. Neither of us needed much stimulation before getting down to business. As our special summer ebbed, the two visiting girls went home. The tent had been taken apart on the last day of their stay. Who knew when we would meet again. But I had great memories for my later solo endeavors. I must have become shy or uncertain around the few neighborhood young ladies because I rarely could convince them to allow me to slip my four inches past their barriers into their inviting canals. I was at most allowed to fuck their wet slits between the labia, stimulating their excited love buttons. "Mama said I can't do that 'cause I might get pregnant" was the lament I heard quite often. However, they were always eager to stroke my prick so they could watch it erupt my milky juice. Needless to say, I had my fingers in their hot crotches immediately after they grabbed my stiff tool, sharing the captured moment's pleasure. Mom married some fellow on short notice in my tenth year, bringing an abrupt end to my fairly regular extreme footsies; I guess she needed more than my massage. Even the baths had terminated as we three couldn't fit in granny's galvanized wash tub, let alone even sis and I. Sis and I still managed to find the opportunities to satisfy each other, but without the tent, the moments were usually limited to not much more than a standing quickie. After mom's quick marriage, we moved to rural northern New Mexico. The area was the recipient of the Fed's monetary benevolence for bringing irrigation water to the desert. With the presence of water in the good-size concrete pipe system, we found the opportunity to attempt to swim or at least get wet on a hot day in the open entries to the buried four-foot diameter pipe that traversed under the roads. It was not unusual to share the 'swimming hole' with several local girls. I don't recall ever seeing a bathing suit, just underpants and bare budding nipples of these young ladies, which was a welcome sight. In these wet settings, strangers became acquainted very quickly. The friendliness soon led to messing around in and under the water, where we were touching ass, thighs, and wet rayon-covered pudenda. I was fully erect within minutes after viewing the girls in the water when we arrived. My buddy soon was escorting a wholesome 12 or 13-year-old to a secluded spot nearby. I stayed in the water with the remaining two who were around ten years old. Well-endowed for ten years. The more I fingered their receptive slits and love buttons, the heavier their breathing, eyes closed, and their asses moving all over the place as I finger-fucked both. I managed to encourage one of them to stroke my rigid prick. I was fast reaching a climax, but they both beat me to the finish line, screaming like a pair of banshees.The ecstatic moment was more than enough to push me over that wonderful edge. I managed to watch both as they climaxed. I was finally aware, in my sexual education, of their erect brown nipples during this explosive moment, making the connection of female climaxes and the erect nipples. As I was releasing my pent-up juice, I bent my face to one of the hard nipples out of my curiosity and ran my tongue over the tantalizing protrusion. The girl went crazy. She grabbed the back of my head, pulling my eager mouth tight to her budding breast. She pumped my exploring fingers harder, as she climaxed again, screaming louder while I sucked and tongued that delightful tit. I decided to see what the other girl would do if I sucked her nipple. I guess she was aware of her companion's massive explosion. She also pulled my mouth tight to her throbbing nipple and continued to fuck my fingers. I could feel her vaginal contractions as I did with her friend. She was fast reaching another climax. She yanked on my revived erect prick, her wet hand easily stimulating my redhead. I have to admit I made a loud but muffled noise against her small breast as I released. It took a few more pumps of her extremely hot pussy on my fingers before she let go again. It is amazing how contagious joint stimulation can be. I think her friend let go with another climax at the same time as I came. Out and About the Neighborhood - 3 By Anonymous ([email protected]) The continued tale of a kid's sexual growth. (mf, extreme-ped, inc, voy, 1st) Part 3 My buddy and I made regular trips to the 'ole swimming hole', but never had the good fortune of seeing those three young ladies again. Sis was still eager to join me in the attic storage above the coffee shop, we had discovered shortly after moving in to our apartment. Our hideout was dusty, smelled like the café kitchen that lay below, and appeared to have been forgotten by all which was fine with us. We cleaned an out-of-the-way place behind some stored boxes, moving the boxes to provide better seclusion for our occasional afternoon sessions on the long-forgotten stored mattress. On our fourth or fifth trip to our rendezvous, I had agreed to sis inviting her new female friend to our afternoon tryst, although I have to admit, I certainly didn't resist. The girl was perhaps a year older than sis, close to nine years which piqued my interest even more. She was rather plain, slightly chubby, but in a cute way. Slightly taller than sis, nearly as tall as me, her face was heart-shaped with evenly spaced gray eyes, behind her eyeglasses, set over a somewhat angular nose, all capped with dark brown hair. She was starting to develop early for an eight-year-old, her young bare, brown nipples, mounted on her budding breasts, showed their presence pushing against her yellow shirt. I couldn't help but take notice, as tits had finally become part of my sexual interest. She smiled a big toothy minus one front tooth smile as they entered the attic hideaway. I was casually lounging on the musty-smelling mattress, with an erection well underway in anticipation of a new playmate. Sis had told me that this friend and she had hid out in some bushes near where we lived, exploring and comparing each other's bodies and smooth hairless slits, as they talked about the excitement of getting massaged by me. The touching of one another's warm moist flowers had brought on the demanding sensations of their need to experience all of the pleasure of stimulation. The girls were soon stroking each other's erect clitoris' and wet slits, staring at each other's flushed faces, mouths slightly open as they raced towards a climax. My brain was ablaze as I envisioned that heady scene. Somewhere in my head, I heard them moan as they climaxed. So, maybe I had a new fuck partner. The girl seemed a bit shy and unsure as sis gave us a small introduction. So we sat and made awkward chit-chat for a short while, giggling about crazy little things. She soon surprised me with a beautiful view of her bare pudenda as she changed her sitting position. Her dress hem was suddenly up on her tan thighs, stretched tight over the tops of her thighs. Her substantial outer lips were open, exposing the petals of her youthful flower and hooded love button. I stared. Mesmerized by the lovely scene. I lifted my eyes to her face briefly, she grinned, but the view pulled my attention back to her developing crotch. My prick throbbed. I was sure she knew what she was doing to me. I licked my lips as I admired. She said something to me, but I was somewhere in heaven. I finally heard her ask if I wanted to touch her special flower. What could I say...? I moved over to her on my knees. "You have to kiss me," she informed me. "My daddy always kisses my mom a bunch before he gets on top of her." I wasn't too sharp at that moment, I thought she meant her vagina. Then I saw her mouth move towards mine. I gave her a light kiss on her warm lips. She said, "Not like that, like this!" as she grabbed my head on both sides near my ears and pulled my lips tight to hers. She sure knew what she was doing. Her lips parted. I could feel the tip of her tongue at my bottom lip. I finally had to break for air, I hadn't yet figured out that one breathes while kissing. "How do you know what your daddy and mom do when they get ready to fuck?" I asked. "Well, we live in a small apartment like you do. I sleep on the couch opposite the bedroom. They leave the door open to let the cool air circulate at night, and the parking lot light shines in the room enough so I get to see some of what's they are doing, but they think I'm asleep." She kissed me again. I could again feel her tongue moving on my lips. I liked the sensation. "Put your tongue in my mouth this time," she said. I did. Wow, almost like tonguing a pussy. We touched tongues, automatically sucking on each other's intruding tongue. She went on with her story after we pulled back from the last kiss. "Daddy not only kisses momma's mouth but after a bunch of mouth kisses, he puts his head between her wide-open legs at her furry slit after kissing her tits and her belly. She wiggles and moans all over the bed, her legs up in the air, as he kisses her furry thing." Her hand had found my ready hand as she related her experience, placing it on her hot moist swollen labia. I massaged. She continued. My finger searched for her opening inside her inner lips. Her hymen covered nearly all of her opening, but I managed to slip my middle finger in a short way before she took hold of my hand, stopping any further insertion. Her face was starting to flush and her breathing was pronounced. She didn't comment or complain at my move. I continued to massage her hot wet pussy as I slyly attempted to slide my finger in deeper past my first knuckle. She continued her story. "He stays there a long time 'til she grabs his head and goes, Ah, Ah OH, Oh god Oh god real loud, and really wiggles her butt against his face. While he is busy kissing her crotch, I'm able to get closer to watch. I hurry back to my bed when he takes his face away from her slit. He sure has a big thing when he stands up for a moment before he crawls on top of momma and she takes his thing and puts it in her slit." "Would you like for me to kiss your slit?" I ask. My finger has now slid in just past my second knuckle. She still held my hand at her pussy but no longer resisted my desire to push my eager finger into her canal past the partial skin barrier. I could feel her moving my hand out some then back in, my finger fucking her tight wet canal, her hips rocking to my intruding finger. I focused my eyes on her face as I stroked her deeper and deeper. Her eyes were glazed, focused somewhere on my face. Her mouth was open a little showing her white teeth. Just a semblance of a grin as she breathed harder. She had lain down on her back as we got more into the stroking, her legs spread wide, exposing her open flower to my efforts as she humped my hand and totally inserted finger as she stared up at me. Her tantalizing sexual aroma permeated the air. I reached up to her brown protruding nipples with my free hand. I ran my fingers across them each. She moaned more and reached up and moved her shirt up, exposing her buds. I lightly squeezed one then the other between my thumb and forefinger, rolling them a little as I did. As I lay down next to her so I could kiss her small buds, I could see sis stroking her slit as she watched my activity. Her hymen was still intact so no insertion, just massaging the lips and love bud. My finger continued to stroke this moist tight pussy. My partner appeared to be getting closer to her climax. I had no idea what would take place. She was developing very well for her age I guessed. My shorts were wet from anticipation and my stimulation of the girl. I could feel her contractions start, clamping down on my finger, holding it momentarily in place. She was now rubbing her swollen partly hooded clit with a bit of vengeance. Suddenly she let loose with, "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oohhhhh," arched her back then relaxed, holding my hand tight to her crotch, my finger clamped inside as she pushed up and rotated several times, again moaning loudly. I could feel her wetness increase. She grasped my hand with both of hers, moving my hand so I finger-fucked faster and harder. Her outer labia were almost stiff against my hand. She climaxed again, shuddering as she did. My hand now held tight to her pussy. She held that position, her butt rocked up and her legs up in the air, for a few moments then totally relaxed. By now I was more than ready to slip my super erection into her hot wet canal.I slowly withdrew my busy middle finger from her wet hole, easily coming out past her stretched hymen. She lay still, breathing heavily as a winded runner might, watching my movements. I stood up and removed my jeans and underwear. My very stiff penis stood up at a forty-five degree angle. The redhead glistened with natural lubrication. She stared at my slim four inches. I knelt by her so my face was near her firm belly. I raised her legs so her knees were near her chest but spread open again, exposing her rosy pink flower. I then lowered my lips to her belly button, kissing and tonguing that sensitive spot. She moaned. Slowly I moved down towards her now hooded love button, kissing as I went. She moaned a bit louder and grasped my head, a hand near each of my ears, placing my lips on her clitoris. I kissed then I sucked the stiffening nodule. Her sexual odor was again like a magic elixir to my olfactory system. I became more aggressive, moving my mouth down to her open inner lips and hole. She was again humping as I enjoyed my quest. I felt a hot hand take hold of my penis. I managed to look behind me, just briefly lifting my head slightly. My sister was right behind me. She proceeded to stroke me. I smiled and returned to my glorious task. As I have come to know, sexual action is contagious to nearly all exposed to the stimulating scene. I started to fuck my sister's moist hand. My oral activity became more intense the more my sister stroked my excited penis. I sucked and kissed my new partner's pussy, inserting my tongue into her inviting canal with more intensity with each stroke of my penis. I could feel the strange demanding sensation moving from my balls up through my body. I was starting to shake. Suddenly the climax was there. My new partner nearly screamed as she peaked again and again. My sister still was stroking my drained tool. I could also hear her moaning behind me. Well, damn, how about that. The three of us collapsed next to each other, naked and spent. I was now squirting more juice, thus leaving a rather large pungent wet spot on the old mattress. We finally started giggling. The girl's red gaping pussy was still inviting. I leaned over and kissed her love button, gently massaging it with my eager tongue. "Aren't you going to put your thing in me?" she asked. "Oh yeah, but I need to rest for a minute or two so I can get hard again." "Will you put it in your sister too?" "I can't get in her yet. Her hole is still tightly covered over. I just slide my penis up and down her slit, between her lips." I could feel my erection coming on. I reached over and gave my sister a nice prolonged kiss to her slit, then turned my attention to my new fuck partner. She watched closely as I knelt near her vagina. I leaned up towards her budding nipples as I prepared to push into her canal. I kissed both of the brown erections. She moaned as she reached for my tool. She guided my erection to her hole as I lowered myself into position. My swollen head touched her parted hymen. She rubbed my penis against her now open hole. I began to push in. She grabbed my hips and pulled. I heard a small "Uuh!" from her mouth as I pushed in so our pubic mounds bumped. I lay still, enjoying the soft smoothness of her hairless pudenda. Her legs pulled up. "Are you okay?" I asked. She nodded, giving me a smile, then a deep passionate kiss. Her hips started to move as she worked at moving my hips out and encouraging me to move back in. I began to stroke in and out with her helping. Her humping became more determined with each of my strokes. She was tight but very moist, so each stroke was extremely satisfying. I was soon fucking like there would be no tomorrow. She met my hard strokes eagerly. Her breathing was heavy against my ear. She was mewing then starting to moan as we progressed in our mutual quest for the big bang. I was getting very close to climaxing, hard for a kid to hold back. I was making loud noises now. The contagion was there again. I peaked, pumping like all hell. My hot juice must have triggered her orgasm. She really screamed this time. I thought I had hurt her, but apparently not as she kept right on fucking. My penis remained erect, our movement continuing to stimulate both of us. She climaxed again. Her body shuddered all over. She bit my neck, growling as she peaked. We lay still with me collapsed on top of her for a short time. She had wrapped her arms around me, still pushing her crotch tight to my pubis, kissing my neck and cheek. I was in heaven to say the least. The reverie was suddenly broken. The adult female determined voice screaming, "Trudy! Time for lunch!" The girl finally sat up next to me, adjusted her shirt, then reached over and kissed me passionately, her tongue teasing as before. I took one last feel of her bare silky pussy before she headed for the hallway door.I reluctantly slid my finger out of her canal, then helped her to straddle my hips. I held my erect prick up near her flowered lips somewhere near her entrance. She moved so her pussy was touching my red slick head. She finally reached for my fisted prick, guiding it to her opening. I massaged the head around some to help lubricate her canal opening. She knew exactly what to do as she eased down, taking a little of my prick into her hot moist pussy for the first time. "Go slowly, a little each push," I instructed. My tool was about twice the size of my middle finger in diameter. She stopped. I panicked. Shame on me. She slowly moved up and then back down with about two plus inches in. "Rub my titties," she uttered. I reached up with both hands, placing my fingers on each erect nipple, slowly massaging as she eased more of my erection into her extremely hot wet canal. She was now fucking my entire four plus inches with determination, Ooohing with each stroke. I have to admit that this was a special occasion. I was fast getting close to my climax with each of her strokes. I could feel her vaginal muscles starting to contract on my prick. She became more forceful in her stroking, moaning louder now, her ass moving and jerking all over. Her muscles clamped my prick again and held tight as she climaxed. Her entire body shuddered. I was in ecstasy. She became very wet as I released a healthy load into her. She relaxed briefly, again violently fucking my still stiff shaft. Three pumps and she climaxed even harder this time, grinding her clit into my pubis mound. I was done for now but not about to pull out. She did something she had never done, she kissed me with a passion as she peaked. We lay there with her on top of me. Not a word was spoken. I was still impaled in her tight hot pussy. WOW! what a day. My sexual growth through various encounters continues. (mf, extreme-ped, voy, mast) A few weeks before we were to move to Colorado, step-dad being transferred again, I quietly eased through the hall entry into our attic hide-away expecting the mattress to be vacant, waiting for me; time for my daily exercise. As I approached the stacked box make-shift room, I could hear moaning and a bit of giggling. Three different young female voices. Two of the voices I quickly identified as sis and Trudy. I grinned in anticipation as I looked around the cardboard box entry. There lay three nude young ladies in various positions, fondling or better yet masturbating each other. Their tantalizing sexual essence immediately graced my olfactory system. Oh WOW what a wonderful smell as well the sight. I breathed deeply, trying to inhale all of it. The girls had not noticed me yet. So I just stood there continuing to breathe deeply, and let my tool become fully aroused. I mean hard and then some. The new visitor spotted me standing there and gasped, not sure how to react at a male and her naked no less. Sis was now aware of me and introduced me. "That's my brother, Auggie. This is Sophia." Sophia smiled rather shyly then grinned with a full mouth full of white teeth. The dark eyes stood out on her tan face. She wore her coal black hair in a single large braid. Her Mexican heritage definitely showed. She was beautiful. I stared, with a silly grin on my face showing my spaced front teeth. Trudy and sis giggled at my reaction. I managed catching their eye glancing at my very obvious erection trying hard to bust out of my jeans. I finally joined them bare ass, still admiring all, but taken with Sophia. She said she was ten with an accented voice. Her treasures were well along the way in development. Her dark nipples seemed to be hard, standing erect on her half grapefruit size breasts. The areole were nearly black. She was not bashful about showing her outstanding pudenda with a small patch of black fuzz just above her protruding uncovered love button. I could easily see the open, wet glistening lips of her flower. Sitting next to all three, the mixed sexual aroma was intoxicating. I was so aroused, I nearly started exercising. Trudy reached over to my stiff oozing prick, ran her open palm over the wet head then proceeded to stroke. I closed my eyes. I was in heaven again. One of them pushed me back to a lying position on our well used odor impregnated mattress. I sensed a very brief hesitation in the stroking but didn't open my eyes. Someone moved my hand to a hot wet pussy. I explored all of this tantalizing warmth. The clitoris was at full attention, staring at the world. The owner moaned and giggled as I massaged her inviting nodule, running my fingers up and down her crevice. I refused to look. I liked the mystery. My middle finger searched for the entry to her canal. My finger was soon rewarded as it slipped into heaven. As I thumbed her love button, my exploring finger rubbed across what must be a sensual spot on the front wall of her excited vagina. She went crazy. Her hips fucking my finger as she wiggled her ass on the mattress. Her stroking of my prick increased in intensity. I continued to finger her hot spot and thumb massage her erect clit. I was fast reaching a climax. She must have been close also. Her contractions were grabbing my moving finger. The need to see my partner finally forced me to open my eyes. What a delightful sight. There sat Sophia, eyes closed, her hips humping my busy finger rubbing her hot spot, with my thumb stroking her button. Sis was on her knees, busy mouthing Sophia's stiff nipples with Trudy finger fucking sis' slit with one hand and massaging an erect nipple with the other. Gawd, what a stimulating sight. I climaxed. Sophia clamped my finger and cried out something in Spanish as she vibrated through her orgasm, still stroking my stiff tool. The hot moment brought sis to her orgasm also. Trudy also loudly moaned about the time sis reached her peak. I could now see her hand on her own pussy with two fingers buried in her wet canal. I can only imagine how we four exhausted kids, sprawled on that well used mattress in different positions, must have looked. No one spoke, just panted like we had all run a 5 minute mile. After two hours of fucking and sucking each of the girls to several hard orgasms each, I was beat. What a day… Trudy and Sophia finally dressed, kissed me goodbye, and quietly eased into the hallway, headed home. I would miss this playroom. The day before we were to leave for Colorado, I eased into the attic hide out for a short exercise session, half hoping to find my playmates there. The mattress was empty. I flopped down on my old friend, savoring the lingering odors of our year of sex. My prick quickly getting to a full hard-on erection as scenes from past sessions with the girls segued through my minds eye. I struggled out of my shoes, jeans, and under-shorts. My tool was leaking lubrication. I ran my palm over the juice covered swollen purple head. I shuddered from the sensation of the action. I had just fisted my demanding erection, did one stroke when I heard a soft female voice call out in a whisper, "Anyone here?" I grabbed my pants, quickly shoving one leg in when the owner of the soft voice poked her tan face around the box opening. She smiled, "Hi, I'm Carmen, Sophia's sister. You must be Auggie." I stared for a few seconds. She was just as beautiful as her sister. She had the same black hair single braided. Her face was shaped the same with the same dark eyes, full lips, and the aquiline nose. My survey of her quickly took my eyes to her very well developed breasts. I had no idea as to size but they appeared to be about like my mom's. She wore a simple cotton blouse allowing her protruding nipples to stand out. Her nearly black areole were clearly evident also. She had on wide legged shorts. From my prone position I could see a lot of thigh. I felt my prick try to stiffen more. I hadn't covered my hard-on very well in my haste to redress, it was standing at a listing attention. She was now focused on my situation. She continued to smile as she licked her full lips. "Want to come in," I finally asked? She came in and sat down not far from me. I shifted towards her leaning on my left elbow. Her attention was still on my stiff thick five plus inch tool. I brazenly reached my right hand over to her bare leg above her knee. She didn't push me away or say anything, just continued to stare at my prick. I lightly ran my fingers up her silky thigh towards her crotch. I did the feather massage I had learned a few years back. Her breathing was becoming more pronounced. I glanced at her nipples as I stroked her thigh. They were now very erect, pushing hard against the fabric of her blouse. I lifted the leg hem of her wide leg shorts. I got a pleasant surprise. Her bare pussy stared at me, no panties, just a black, rather hairy pussy blossomed open showing the slightly glistening pink inner petals of her lovely flower. Her essence tantalized my nose. I took the liberty of the moment and lightly ran my fingers up to touch her treasure. She still had not said anymore than the first greeting, but she did reach behind her lower back, unbutton her shorts then pull the zipper down. I ran my eager fingers softly up and down while she was unbuttoning. She stood up and let her shorts drop to her bare feet and kicked them off. I pulled my one leg out of my one pant's leg I had managed to get on. My prick throbbed in anticipation. What a picture of beauty. Her hips were wide. Her pudenda was very inviting.She knelt down on her knees, with her buttocks resting on her heels, inches from my left shoulder. Her open palm glided over my wet, swollen penis head, then she grasped the shaft and started to stroke. I was now lying flat on my back. I slipped my left hand between her spread feet, reaching her prominent pussy. Her delightful sexual fragrance graced my sense of smell. She started to move against my searching fingers in sync with her hand movement on my penis. Her sexual essence became more pronounced as she became wetter. I was fast approaching my climax as my middle finger slipped into her open, hot canal. She was moaning and became louder as my intruding finger managed to find that spongy magic spot I had discovered in her sister Sophia's pussy. She stroked me faster, spreading her legs a bit more as her free hand pushed mine tighter to her open slit. I could feel her massaging her hard clitoris, as she fucked my finger in time to her stroking my penis. Suddenly she let loose with a loud "Aaah, oh god, oh god." I could feel her vaginal canal contract around my finger as she squirted her hot juice on my hand. She continued to fuck my finger and hand. My penis felt like she was going to tear it off with her intense grip and stroke. My buttocks were bouncing on the mattress as I shot my load straight up on her active hand, then down on my belly and pubic area. She screamed an "Oh God" as she climaxed again as I was just starting to wind down. My hand was again inundated with her lightly fragrant juice as she shuddered through her intense spasms. She wasn't ready to stop yet. Her fucking my now wet and juicy finger continued at the same pace and rhythm. Her vaginal contractions began again. She suddenly changed positions. My wet finger popped out of her hot, wet canal. She still had my wet, slick penis fisted as she swung her left leg over my hips, and guided my tool into her inviting pussy. She sat down with it now fully inserted. She bent down to my face and placed her full lips on mine. I could feel her tongue searching, lightly massaging my receptive lips. She began slowly stroking my now renewed hard-on. I could feel things happening again in my balls. With each of her strokes and contractions clamping my penis, I was fast reaching another release. The closer I got to my climax, the harder I fucked her very active pussy. Call it luck, call it whatever, we reached the pinnacle at nearly the same time. We both let out an "Oh god, oh god." Carmen and I had been lying side by side. Our heavy breathing had finally returned to normal. The fresh musky aroma of sex was pervasive in the small confines of the makeshift playroom. I raised up on my elbow so I could admire her sexy attributes. She grinned at my subtle leer of her tan body. My curiosity finally provoked my first question. I was full of questions. I fired off the most obvious one. "Did Sophia tell you about this playroom?" "Yes," she answered, "do you mind? She and I share everything we do." I shook my head. "Can I fuck you again?" I blurted out, showing a lot of teeth in my grin, forgetting to answer her question in my haste. "That's why I'm here," she replied, her finger and thumb stroking her hard nipple. "First you have to suck my pussy. Sophia said you are very good at it." I was super erect again. Nice to be a horny kid. "OK," I eagerly answered. I moved so my face was near her smooth hip. She spread her legs wide and I climbed in between, placing my mouth close to her inviting flower. Her tantalizing essence filling my olfactory senses. I kissed her smooth tan thighs allowing my eager tongue to traverse nearer to her blossomed flower. Her eyes were closed. Lips slightly open as she increased her lustful breathing. Her hips and buttocks were beginning to dance on the old mattress. Her hands held my face to her delightful crotch as she tried to press her hot, wet open slit to my tongue. My tongue easily slid up and down her moist crevice, stroking her love button as I reached the top of her rather hairy pubic area. I pushed my mouth tight to her flowered slit, now kissing and sucking everything. My tongue probed into her open canal. She pulled my head tight to her crotch as she fucked my mouth and tongue. My nose massaging her clitoris. Her moaning was getting more frequent and louder. I could only guess she was getting close to her orgasm. I was trying hard not to rub my hard penis against the mattress. I was also close to release. She exploded, wetting my face and sharing some of her juice with my mouth. Her grip on my head had me buried in her lovely pussy as she fucked in slow motion. I couldn't breathe. The heat was almost intense as she squirted her juice. I had been in that situation before. I wiggled my nose on her clitoris. She let me go, pushing my face away from her overly sensitive pussy. I rested my cheek on the soft, silky hair of her pubis; her pervasive odor still tantalizing, finally getting my wind back as the old-timers say. "Sophia was sure right about your mouth and tongue," she finally said.The signals were now tantalizing my lower stomach as I approached the big bang. I had become more aggressive in my pussy eating. Sis was starting to respond. She grabbed the back of my head, pulling me in tight to her now active humping of my face. My tongue was buried in her hot hole, my nose rubbing her erect clitoris. I climaxed in my wet shorts. Surprisingly, she did too. I damn near smothered as she held my face to her pulsating pussy. I felt her moisture inundate my tongue and mouth. I finally managed to move so I could breathe. My face was inches from her exuding essence as my juice slowly ran down my belly into the crotch of my shorts. My boredom had passed.

Collections/stm/ho-hum_but_not_dull/Gcabbett_-_Out_And_About_The_Neighborhood.txt

Henrik Larsen

Eyeliner

'What kind of pencil is this?' I asked her when she came back and plopped down next to me on her bed. 'It's an eyeliner,' she answered. 'What's an eyeliner?' 'Just what the word says. It's for making lines around the eyes, dummy,' Annie giggled. 'Like a makeup thing?' 'Any girl over 10 would know that. It's a pencil for drawing on skin, if that makes it easier to understand. Look here.' Annie pointed to her eyes. She had really pretty emerald-green eyes, which sat in a round, freckled face, framed by long, slightly curly, red hair. 'See the black line? That's made with the eyeliner.' 'I'm a boy, and even though I'm 15, I have never felt like wearing makeup. Do you think I should?' I asked her, blinking my eyes at her. 'Nooo,' Annie giggled. 'Can I try it on you?' I asked. 'Not my eyes, thank you. You can try on my arm.' She was wearing a short, sleeveless shirt and a short skirt. The two didn't quite meet, leaving a bit of her tummy bare. All the girls were dressed like that, and it looked so cute. 'I'll try on your tummy,' I said and pushed up her shirt a little. We had only been going steady for about a week. All this stuff with girlfriends, dating and so on, was something new. If somebody told me I was in love with a girl, it would have been meant as an insult, only a few months ago. A lot had changed since then. Suddenly, one of the boys in my class was openly dating one of the girls. Within no time at all, all of us were dating; well, almost all of us. We were just holding hands and kissing and stuff like that, nothing more. Annie's tummy was smooth as silk. I had touched it before, but only her tummy. I hadn't dared to go beyond that. Annie was only my second girlfriend, and I wanted it to last a little more than the two weeks the first one had lasted. Still, I badly wanted to get a little further than kissing and holding hands. I drew a flower with her navel as the center, drawing the petals around it. Then I began to draw a stem with leaves, pushing up her shirt a little more. Annie had raised her head and was looking down on my masterpiece. I pushed her shirt up a little more, expecting her to protest any minute. Annie's breathing had become a little faster. The stem of the flower had reached her ribcage. I drew leaves on the stem, trying to drag it out for as long as possible. I could feel the tension growing fast. Inch by inch, the stem grew longer, and the shirt was pushed up higher until it was just under her breasts. 'Stop,' Annie hissed, short of breath. I did, but I continued to draw leaves on the stem. My hands were brushing lightly against the underside of her breasts. I was all out of stem to put leaves on, and once more, I tried to push up the shirt, just a fraction of an inch. 'No, don't, David,' Annie said. 'Please. I just want to look,' I said, pleading. 'No.' 'All the other girls do.' 'No, not all of them,' Annie replied, sounding a little angry. 'Sandra and Lisa do,' I replied. I knew almost for sure that they had let their boyfriends look and even feel. 'Well, they have something to show, don't they?' Annie replied, sounding frustrated. OK, Annie didn't have much in that department, not compared to Sandra and Lisa. But right now, I didn't care. Breasts were breasts, even if they had been only the size of golf balls, and Annie still had something that looked like half lemons. I'll admit that the girls in my dreams had bigger breasts, but that was dreams. This was reality. 'I think small is better. Small breasts look so proud, and they don't grow to look like empty bags,' I said, trying to sound convincing. Annie thought about it for a moment. OK, I admit I didn't invent that line myself. I had overheard my older sister complaining to mom about her small breasts, and mom had said something like that. 'Come on. I can almost see them through your shirt anyway, and I think they look very pretty,' I said. 'Promise you won't laugh?' Annie asked, anxiously. 'Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.' I held my breath while I waited for Annie to make up her mind. 'OK,' she said. I was so excited I could hardly get hold of her shirt again. I'd temporarily forgotten all about my beautiful flower. Very cautiously, I lifted the tight shirt up over her tiny breasts; the first breasts I had ever seen up close. I'd seen topless women on the beach, but only stolen glimpses; this was for real. She didn't wear a bra. She didn't need one, and I guess they didn't come in her size either. Her breasts were small. Two cones at the top of her ribcage, standing up very proud. On top of each cone was another tiny cone, topped with a very small nipple. I noticed that the freckles from her face spread down over the top of her chest, and there were even a few on her breasts too. I was thrilled beyond my wildest fantasies. We were both breathing heavily, looking at Annie's breasts. Annie stared as much as I did. I barely dared to move at all, fearing that Annie would back out and pull down her shirt again. But she didn't. She didn't do anything else either, and I was suddenly paralyzed. I mean, I wanted to touch her, badly, but I didn't dare. 'I want to draw on you too,' Annie suddenly said and sat up. 'Huh?' I replied, surprised. 'I want to draw a picture on you,' she repeated. 'Eh, OK.' I pulled my shirt off and lay down flat on my back. Annie didn't pull her shirt back down over her breasts. That was a good sign. She was usually very forthright and certainly not very shy. She leaned over me and began to draw something on my chest. I didn't see what it was. I was focused on her breasts. She only drew a few lines. Then she stopped because her rolled-up shirt irritated her. To my great disappointment, she pulled it down again, covering her breasts. Then, after a second, she changed her mind and pulled it off completely. Great! She leaned over me again and began to draw. She took her own sweet time, drawing something very elaborate. Her warm hands felt so good she could have continued for hours, I wouldn't have minded. Her touches were heavenly. 'Isn't it beautiful?' Annie giggled and straightened her back. Her breasts stood out from her chest, and I could only agree; they certainly were beautiful. But that wasn't what she was talking about. I had to tear my eyes from her chest and look at mine for a moment. She had drawn a fine pattern. 'Very pretty.' 'It's a maze,' she said and began to follow the lines with her finger. She followed the lines all over my chest and down over my stomach to the rim of my jeans, leaving no doubt as to where it was pointing. She looked excitedly at me and wriggled her finger under the rim. Just an inch or so, but it made the tension between us grow. 'My turn again,' I said with a hoarse voice that surprised even myself. Annie lay down again, her green eyes glowing with anticipation and excitement. The maze seemed to be a good idea. I began to transform my primitive flower into a pattern similar to the one Annie had drawn on my chest and stomach. I began on her tummy, moving up to her chest. I had become bolder now, and my hands brushed over her breasts. Annie jerked, but she didn't say anything. I let my hand brush over her left breast again, this time a little harder. It felt fantastic - soft and spongy, and... it just felt incredibly exciting to actually touch her breasts. I didn't dare to draw on her breasts. Instead, I let the maze end there. When I was finished, I followed the lines of the maze, just as Annie had done. I ended up at her right breast and paused there for a second, not taking my finger away from her smooth skin. Annie stayed still, holding her breath. I began to circle my finger around her breast, slowly narrowing the circles until I ended up at the center. Annie hissed, and the tiny nipple seemed to grow under the tip of my finger. When I looked down on Annie's face, she had closed her eyes. Slowly, I descended from her right breast and moved uphill on her left breast, reaching the summit a bit faster than before. Annie let out a gasp and squirmed a little, moving her thighs against each other. Feeling very bold, almost triumphant, I put a finger on her right breast too, touching both her nipples at the same time. I brushed my fingertips over the tiny, hard peas. Annie squirmed and took my hands away. 'Please, it tickles,' she gasped. 'Doesn't it feel good?' I asked, a little surprised. I hadn't practiced much at these things, but I knew some of the theory, and it was supposed to feel good for a girl when you touched her nipples. 'Yes, but... it tickles,' she replied and sat up. 'Lie down,' she added. Annie picked up the eyeliner and began drawing on my stomach.The lines moved very close to the rim of my jeans, and she tugged it a couple of times, pushing it down a little each time. At first, I didn't really notice, still staring at her breasts. It wasn't until I felt her fingers just above my newly formed pubic hair that I became very aware. I might even have jerked a little. Annie stopped drawing and looked at her masterpiece. She followed the maze with her finger, again ending up at the rim of my jeans and again wriggling her finger under it. She looked at me as she did so. Her eyes were shining so brightly, and her freckled face was warm and blushing; all the way down to her breasts, actually. I was very aroused, too, and I could hardly wait for her to lie down and let me have my turn with the eyeliner. I had covered most of her stomach and chest. Instead of continuing on her stomach, I began to draw on her thigh, just under the hem of her short skirt. Annie giggled excitedly and nervously. Slowly, I moved up, pushing her skirt up as I went. She had her legs tight together, so I couldn't see her panties until I pushed the skirt the last bit of the way up over them. They were pink. I leaned over her to get closer to her crotch, trying to make out what the panties were hiding. I couldn't see much, but a new and exciting scent hit my nostrils. It was the scent of her, but not like when we were kissing on the bed. It was different, but wonderful in a strange new way. I drew a line very close to the hem of her panties. It made her press her legs tighter together, but she didn't stop me, as I had feared. I really wanted to draw a line over her panties, but I didn't dare. Instead, I stopped drawing and began to trace the maze with the tip of my finger, all the way up to her panties. I hesitated for a moment. I didn't want this to end now. Would she get angry if I tried to touch her? Would she allow me to get my finger under the hem of her panties? I didn't dare to take the risk. I let my finger trail down along the rim of her panties, down between her thighs. She was so hot down there. I could feel it, even through the panties. On the way up, I brushed lightly over her panties. And I suddenly became aware of how hard my penis was. Before I could get my hand away, Annie sat up again. My hand brushed harder against her panties. I didn't feel much, but just the thought of it... Annie was blushing more than before. The freckles on her chest had multiplied while I was drawing on her. 'Take off your jeans,' she said with a husky voice. 'My jeans?' 'Yes,' she cleared her throat; 'there is no more room on your tummy and chest.' I was suddenly struck with embarrassment. As soon as I took my jeans off, it would be very obvious that I had an erection. On the other hand, I sure as hell didn't want to stop here, so there was no other option than taking them off. I got off the bed and took them off with my back to Annie. I could feel the heat in my cheeks when I turned around to face her. And I could feel her eyes, staring at my crotch and the very prominent bulge in my underwear. She didn't laugh. She didn't run away screaming. She didn't point to it and ask what it was. She just stared as I had stared at her breasts. I stood beside the bed for a moment. I don't know what I had expected her to do, but the excitement of it all took over and my embarrassment disappeared. I lay down on the bed and waited for her to start drawing. Annie stared, and it was as if she almost had forgotten what she was supposed to do. Then she leaned over me and began to draw lines on my thigh. This time I was very aware of her hands and the eyeliner all the time. She started halfway up on my thigh and rapidly moved upward. When she got close to my crotch, she began to draw slower, more elaborately. Her touches felt so... indescribable. Without intending to, I spread my legs a little. She immediately drew a line further down, very close to my crotch. Her hand touched my penis, and involuntarily, I jerked a little. Annie couldn't suppress an excited giggle. A second later, her hand touched my penis again; casually, but at the same time very deliberately. This time, only my penis jerked. Annie giggled again, but it didn't really embarrass me. She stopped drawing and followed the maze, quickly reaching my crotch. She was braver than me, brushing her hand against my penis several times. To me, that meant that I could go further with her too. But it also felt so good that I was torn between wanting to take my turn and wanting to enjoy her touch. The part of me that wanted her to touch me won. Patiently, but very tensely, I felt her fingers caress the skin on my inner thigh close to my underwear. Just as I thought she was going to stop, I felt the tip of her finger slip underneath the hem of my underwear. Only for a second or two, but it felt like an electric shock. Annie stared excitedly at me. I sat up, and we looked each other in the eyes. I don't know how I looked, but Annie had a very special glow in her eyes, and her face and chest were blushing. The smell I had noticed before was stronger now. Our breathing was heavy. Without taking her eyes off mine, Annie lay down on her back again. I almost forgot the eyeliner. Annie handed it to me when I pushed her skirt up over her panties. I began drawing on her other thigh. She had her legs tight together, but when I pulled her leg a little, she spread them. Only a couple of inches, but enough for me to see the crotch of her panties. There was a damp spot, where the thin fabric was pressed in between the lips. I remembered a very embarrassing sex education lesson. We, the pupils, were embarrassed, and the teacher probably was too, mechanically reciting the text from his notes. It had been a disappointing experience, but suddenly I remembered a few things about the female anatomy and how the vagina secreted a lubricant to make the penis able to slide. The skin on her inner thigh was so incredibly smooth. I didn't think skin could be that smooth at all. I didn't draw very much on her inner thighs, but I made sure my hands were touching them all the time. They were just so smooth and wonderful to touch. 'Stop,' Annie suddenly said, and my heart skipped a beat. 'The eyeliner will rub off on my skirt. I'd better take it off.' I relaxed again. Her skirt was white with a pale pattern. She sat up and pulled the skirt off. Considering how she had touched me, I decided to have a go at it. 'It might rub off on your panties too,' I said, fighting to control the excitement in my voice. Annie hesitated, and I held my breath. It felt as if it was now or never, and she took ages, thinking about what I had said. Finally, she looked up at me, all blushing and tense. 'I'll take them off, if you take off yours,' she said. I had already had my moment of embarrassment when I took off my jeans, and she could see my hard penis bulging. 'OK,' I replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as I possibly could. She hesitated again. 'You go first,' she said, shyly. That made me a little timid too. 'We'll do it at the same time,' I suggested. 'No, you go first,' Annie insisted. There was no other way. I didn't want to stop... no way. 'OK,' I said and began to fumble to get my underwear off. Annie stared at my penis as it jumped out. It only made me clumsier, but I finally managed to get them off. 'Your turn,' I said, my eyes fixed on Annie's panties. She lay back on the bed and pulled her panties off, pulling her legs up and blocking my view. When they were off, she lowered her legs again, and I could see her, completely naked. She had her legs tightly together again, but I could see a small patch of red hairs at the top of her crotch. Again, I forgot what it was I was going to do, but all the black lines on her body reminded me. I leaned over her and began to draw on her thigh. It was difficult because my eyes kept drifting to her crotch all the time. The small patch of fine hairs made a triangle above her lips, ending just where the lips began; as an arrow, pointing to the slit between the lips. I was almost afraid to get close to her crotch, and I drew a big, elaborate pattern. At one point, my hand moved down between her tightly closed thighs. It made her spread her legs a few inches. Finally, I finished my maze at the edge of the fine, red hairs. My hand touched the hairs. They were so soft and fine, like fine threads of silk. As I leaned over her and began to trace the lines I had drawn, I could smell that special scent again, only stronger. It was intoxicating. My fingertip moved fast, skipping a few lines to get to the end fast. Once there, I moved my finger into the hairs and looked up at her to see if it was OK. Her eyes were closed, and her face looked very tense and concentrated. Seeing no signs of disapproval, I threw my last precautions overboard and began to move my finger down to her lips. I noticed that the room was very quiet except for her heavy, noisy breathing through her nose. I moved my face closer as my finger touched the spongy lips. Being so close, I could see and feel the downy fuzz that covered them. I looked up at her face again to make sure it was OK to proceed. Her eyes were still closed, her face concentrated. My finger caressed her lips very lightly. Annie took a couple of deep, noisy breaths through her nose, making me look up at her again, fearing that something was wrong. I couldn't see any change. The little slit between the lips attracted my attention. It was there, between the lips... it was in there that her clitoris and vagina were hiding. Very cautiously, I tried to slide my finger in between the lips. My fingers sank in, into the hot, slippery crevice between them. Annie gasped and jerked. I pulled my finger back. 'Did I hurt you?' I asked, frightened. 'No... it felt...'"It's... my turn... now," she gasped after a short while. We changed places and I lay down. The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Annie forgot all about the eyeliner and drawing and everything. She leaned over me and brushed her hands up along my penis. Her hands brushed over it as if they were the wings of a butterfly. My penis jerked between her hands, making it press hard against one hand. This time, Annie didn't giggle. She continued to touch and feel the skin on my penis and testicles, very lightly. Every touch made lightning flashes on my inner eyes. The foreskin was pulled halfway back, exposing the tip of the head. Tentatively, she put her finger on the tip. It was almost too much and I jerked involuntarily. Annie let go. "Did it hurt?" she asked anxiously. "No, it was just... too direct." "Can I... hold it... like...?" she asked, not finishing the sentence. "Yes," I gasped in reply, continuing inside my head: 'Please... please do.' She put her hand around the shaft and held my penis. It jerked in her hand, out of my control. Slowly, she moved her hand just a little, pulling down the foreskin a fraction of an inch. "Does this hurt?" "No..." I gasped. "It feels good." She kept pulling painfully slowly, until the rim of the head appeared. It felt so good, much better than I had ever imagined. I was extremely excited. Suddenly, without any warning, my penis jerked and began to ejaculate. I didn't feel it coming, it just happened. My semen shot out over my stomach and her hand. She got a few drops in her hair as well. It felt so good, but it almost happened too quickly, too sudden for me to really enjoy it fully. And it had only just ended, before I suddenly felt terribly embarrassed about it. Annie stared with her eyes and mouth wide open. Then she giggled. "Cool," she said, "way cool." I couldn't help laughing. It helped and the embarrassment disappeared. Annie reached over to her bedside table and got some tissues. She wiped my semen off her hand and my stomach. Time had been flying much faster than we had realised and I had to get home. We dressed quickly and I kissed her goodbye. Just as I was leaving, Annie hugged me again. "It was fun," she whispered in my ear. "It was wonderful," I answered and kissed her.

Collections/bramm_stein/www/eyeliner.txt

Clayton

Clayton's Kids - Poony Toons

'Shit, this is boring,' I think as I rolled away from the images of Tinky Winky, Po, Dipsy, and Lala cavorting on the TV. I look back at my charge for the day, who sits on the couch behind me, her bright little eyes captivated by the silly antennaed ETs with TVs in their bellies. "Stupid fucking bitch mother," I mutter. I don't realize that I'm speaking aloud until the round little face wreathed in soft yellow curls turns to look at me. "What?" "Oh, nothing, you just watch Tellytubbies, okay?" I say hastily. God, I hoped she hadn't actually heard. I doubt that a repetition of my words would go down well in this house. So there I was, cooped up in my neighbor's house, watching her little brat daughter for the princely sum of five bucks a day. Did my stupid dumb fuck bitch mother ask me if this was how I wanted to spend my school holidays? No. Did she ask me if I wanted to be paid? No. Silly fucking woman said I'd be happy to do it for nothing. At least Mrs. Brownlow insisted that I should be paid something, not that I'd see any of it anytime soon, Mum was banking it for me. "Teach me responsibility with money," she says, "Ten dollars a week pocket money was plenty for a boy my age," she says. Well, since I couldn't fucking go anywhere, she was probably right. Stupid cow. All my mates were out there playing footy, and I was stuck in here looking after little Orphan Annie here. I turn to glare at the unoffending cause of my ire. I'm about to turn away when I notice that she's lifted her feet to the couch and has the soles of her shiny black sandals pressed together, her hands clasping the toes, and her knees actually touching the cushions on either side. 'Fuck, how can she do that?' I marvel. If I tried that, my hips'd pop out of joint. Again, I start to turn away when she takes a hand off her shoes to scratch an itch high up on the inside of her leg. The side of her hand dislodges the frilly hem of her dress to reveal a tiny scrap of white at the top of her chubby leg. Being nearly twelve and perpetually horny, even this tiny glimpse of female underwear was enough to make my heart skip a beat, while my jeans suddenly became painfully tight. I glance up at her face to see if she's caught me watching, but her eyes are completely focused on the dumb critters prancing around like a bunch of poofters. One of them was even purple and carried a handbag. As I let my eyes fall back between her legs, I think about the bullshit claims my mates and I have made about seeing up girls' dresses and the like. Especially, what Paul had said about his little sister who let him lift up her dress to look at her undies. None of us really believed him, but we still gave him all sorts of shit because his little sister was only six. Annie was six too, but I doubt if she'd let me lift up her skirt. Not with her bible-bashing mother always telling her to sit like a lady and shit like that. Hell, she'd really catch it bad if her mother saw her now. The only way her knees could be any further apart would be if you cut one of her legs off. Another scratch revealed a tiny bit more of her knickers, and my pants grew tighter still. I thought about Paul and his sister again and wondered if it was really true. I was starting to think that it might be worth getting shit stirred, and then it occurred to me that I would only get stirred if I said something. I glance back up at her face to make sure she's still staring at the TV and return my gaze to the two-centimeter triangle of thick white cotton. Both hands are back on her toes now, and she grips them tightly as she begins to rock back and forth in time with the silly music playing on TV. Then she starts bouncing her knees, and her dress begins to work higher and higher. A millimeter at a time, more and more of her tightly stretched knickers creep into view. At the top of each leg, the flesh hollows slightly, and the taut leg bands of her undies stretch over the shallow depressions, leaving shadow-filled gaps. First, a grey and white cartoon rabbit's foot comes into view, and then an orange-yellow flipper. Then just as I see the beginnings of a black and white paw slipping into view, she straightens her legs and lets them hang over the edge of the couch, at the same time jerking the hem of her dress down to her knees. "You saw my undies!" she squeals. Startled, I look up, realizing that the video had ended, and she'd caught me looking up her dress. She must have mistaken my panicked look for something else, because she whimpers at me, "Please don't tell Mummy." "Huh, what?" "Please don't tell Mummy on me," she says fearfully, "She gets mad when I sit like that and let people see my undies. She'll spank me if you tell her." "What, just because I saw a bit of your knickers?" I ask incredulously. I knew her mother was weird about stuff like that because she was so religious, but to spank her kid just for letting her underwear show? That was ridiculous. But from the look on Annie's face, it was obviously true. "You said a bad word," she says with a sharp intake of breath. "What word?" I ask, genuinely perplexed. "You know," she says. "No, I don't," I say. "Tell me what it was." "But it's naughty, and Mummy'll get mad," she objects. "No, she won't," I reassure her, "Because I won't tell her." She looks around furtively, as if to check that there's no one else to hear. "You said, 'knickers,'" she whispers, and giggles nervously. "Remember, don't tell Mummy I said it." "I already said I wouldn't," I say. "Thanks," she says, "You was looking at them, wasn't you? How come?" I start to say no, and then a nasty idea begins to take shape in my head. "Well, they've got cartoons on them, and I was trying to see what they were, but I didn't get a very good look." "They're from What's Up Doc," she tells me, holding her hand up and ticking names off on her fingers, "There's Bugs, and Daffy, and Sylvester, and Tweety, and..." "Hang on, hang on," I say, cutting her off. "I'm getting all muddled up. Why don't you show me?" "But Mummy says I'm not supposed to let people see my undies." "If people aren't supposed to see your knickers," I ask, trying to sound reasonable, "why do they have cartoons on them?" "Um, I-" she pauses in confusion. "I don't know, but Mummy says I'm supposed to sit like a lady, so people can't see my undies." "Can't you say 'knickers'?""I ask, not sure why I'm trying to make her say the word, but knowing it will further my nasty plans. "Yes, but it's a naughty word," she tells me. "Mummy says-" "Your mummy isn't here now," I cut her off, "you can say it in front of me. I won't mind. Go on, say it." "Knickers," she giggles nervously. "See," I grin encouragingly. "Say it again." "Knickers," she giggles, more naughty than nervous this time. "Knickers, knickers, knickers. KNICKERS!" She finishes with a little girl shriek and collapses into helpless giggles. "So can I see them?" I ask again. "Mummy says-" "She's not here," I interrupt. I have another brainwave. "Anyway," I say, "she just means you're not supposed to let people see them accidentally. It's OK if they ask you first." "Really?" She asks disbelievingly, "I can show people if they ask?" "Yep," I agree, "But they have to ask. OK." "OK," she agrees. "How come Mummy didn't tell me 'bout that?" "Because the first person who asks you is supposed to tell you," I bullshit her. "Oh," she nods, accepting my assurance. "So can I see your cartoons?" I ask softly. "OK," she chirps. And with that, she pulls the front of her dress up above her waist. For several seconds, I stare at the slightly rumpled and partially obscured Loony Toons cast, getting my first proper look at a girl's underwear while she was wearing them. Then, feeling bold at having got away with this much, I say, "I can't see very well. Why don't you sit like you were before?" "OK." She lets her hem drop into her lap and lifts her feet back to the couch cushions, using her hands to get the soles of her sandals lined up and pressed together. She then lifts her dress back up. My cock almost sprains itself lurching in my pants like a live thing. This time I have a complete and open view of her little knickers stretched tightly across the rounded swelling of her tiny fanny. The dimples are once more visible at the tops of her thighs, and under the pretext of getting a closer view, I try to look into the narrow openings, trying to see even more than I already can. The thick material partially obscures the outline of her little fanny, but I imagine I can see a shallow vertical depression running down the middle. "That's Bugs," she says, her fingertip touching Bugs' head, near the top on the right-hand side. "And-" "Hang on," I stop her again, "Wanna play a game?" "Yeah, what is it?" "I bet you don't know who all of them are," I say. "I bet I do." "Bet you don't," I taunt. "Do too," she cries. "OK," I say, "Prove it. I'll point to them and you tell me who they are then." She thinks about it for a moment, making me wonder if I've pushed too hard, but fortunately, she agrees, "OK." My chest feels like it has an enormous rubber band around it as I reach out and lightly press down on Daffy. Holy fuck. It's warm, and soft, but firm, not mushy like I'd thought it would be. "Daffy," she immediately tells me, seemingly unworried by my finger touching her little cunt. "Sylvester," "Tweety," "Foghorn Leghorn," "Elmer Fudd," "Porky Pig," She answers each time my finger stops on a figure. "You're good," I compliment her, "But I bet I'll get you." "Bet you don't," she giggles, completely at ease with a boy twice her age touching her undies as she holds the hem of her dress tucked under her chin. Now instead of lifting my finger before setting it back down elsewhere, I drag it to each new location, trying to feel the shape of her little fanny through the obscuring fabric. "Pepe Le Pew," "Wile E. Coyote," "Road Runner," "Yosemite Sam," "Speedy Gonzales," She giggles, "I know 'em all." "Bet you don't know who he is," I press down on the Martian, and drag my finger up and down a little, actually forcing the material of her knickers partway into her crack. "That's Marvin the Martian," she says, finishing with a creditable imitation of Porky Pig, "See, the-a, the-a, that's all folks." "Hang on a second," I say, "There's one left." Pressing firmly, I move up to the figure behind Marvin, tracing along the full lanky, grey length of Bugs Bunny. "That's Bugs Bunny," she giggles scornfully, "I already told you that." "So you did," I grin, pretending chagrin, but keeping my finger in continuous motion up and down the length of her little slit. My cock throbs mightily inside my jeans, straining against the thick denim which keeps it confined. "But I bet you don't know what Sam calls him." "That's easy," she says, a slight catch in her voice. "He calls him a long-eared galoot. That tingles." "What does?" I ask, my pausing with my finger right in the middle of Bugs' face. "Your finger." "Oh," I say, removing it, thinking that she's calling an end to the game. "No, don't stop," she says, grabbing my hand and putting my finger back down on Bugs. "It feels nice." "Does it," I gulp. "Uh-huh," she nods, a look of concentration on her little face as she looks down at my stationary finger. After a few seconds, she says, "You gotta rub it." Holy shit. Already, I was far beyond anything any of my mates had claimed. I was touching a real live, girl's fanny through her undies, I'd felt it all over, and now she was asking me to keep going. To rub it with my bare fingers. My cock throbbed in a way I'd never felt before, and I wondered if I was going to shoot stuff, like Eric claimed he could. Of course, we'd all immediately made the same claim, but I think only Eric's was genuine. Slowly, I begin moving my finger back and forth along her slit. "Mmm," she mumbles, her head cocked slightly as she watches my fingers, "That's nice. Keep doing it." Since she obviously likes my finger on her, and there's no longer the pretense of the game I'd made up to worry about, I move my middle finger into her slit and let the fingers on either side rub lightly over the soft fabric covering the fat little mounds on either side. Then when she doesn't object, I let those fingers slip into the little hollows at the top of her thighs, touching her flesh outside her knickers. She jumps slightly when bare skin touches bare skin, but makes no objection. Emboldened, I draw my fingers inwards a little, stretching the leg openings wider, the elastic lightly abrading the sides of my fingers, as for the first time in my life I touch a fanny, skin to skin. It is the softest, smoothest, most incredible thing I have ever felt. So hot, it seems to burn my fingertips. It's neither flabby like the rolls of fat on Brian's guts, nor hard like muscle, but like it was packed with stiff foam rubber, giving way before my sliding fingers, and rebounding as soon as they pass. As I pull the sides of her knickers inwards, I begin to see the smooth slightly pink skin being revealed on either side. And as the fabric between my fingers becomes slack, the finger tracing her slit slips deeper, until it rubs lightly over the bottom of the little valley. Near the top, my finger passes over a hard little bump, and Annie lets out a muffled squall and convulses against me. Thinking I'd hurt her, I snatch my hand away, and begin to apologize. "WOW!" she says, looking up at me, "That really tingled." "It didn't hurt?" I ask worriedly. "No way," she cries, "It felt really good." More nasty thoughts materialize at this revelation. I wonder if I can actually get to see her bare fanny. I lay my fingers back on the, once more, taut fabric, and pretend to fumble around looking for the spot I'd touched before, "Where does it feel good?" She puts up with my sudden clumsiness for a few seconds, then says, "No, it's in the crack." "What, here?" "No." "Here?" "No higher. No, too far. No higher. Lower. Oh," her voice is tinged with disappointment, "you keep missing." "Well, I can't see," I say, holding my breath anxiously, as I wait for her reaction. "I can't let you see *inside* my undies," she protests. "No, of course not," I agree with her, taking my hand away, and pretending to get up to change the video. She pauses, looking at my hand where it presses into the cheap vinyl cushion beside her ankle, then looks up into my face, "You won't tell Mummy?" she asks softly. 'Yesss!' I think jubilantly, but I pretend a slight reluctance as I concede, "Well, OK." "Promise?" she demands. "I promise I won't tell," I agree. She immediately hooks her fingers into one leg opening and stretches it across to the other side. For the first time in my life, I see exactly what a girl looks like between her legs. There are two fat fleshy lips, vaguely shaped like long narrow footballs, one on either side of her crack. The crack looks a little like a tall thin hourglass, sort of inside out if you know what I mean. The chubby lips on either side pressed tightly together in the middle and parting slightly at the top and bottom. At the top, there's a little flap of skin inside the crack, right where my finger had felt the bump. Where it widens again at the base, I see a narrow, pink-walled crater, with a little dimple at the bottom. My chest tight, I look up at her face. "Can I touch it?" "Course you can, silly," she informs me with a giggle. "That's what I'm holding my knickers out of the way for." Almost unable to breathe, I reach out, and lay my trembling fingers on the soft, hairless, pillows of flesh. They're so warm. So soft. So smooth. It's so beautiful. "Touch it inside the crack," she orders me, "Make it tingle good again." My heart pounds like I've run a race against the Devil as I insinuate a finger into her slit near the base, where I've heard the hole is. There I can feel a faint dampness, the soft, soft skin slightly sticky with some unidentifiable moisture.I wonder briefly if it's piss, then mentally shrug. A little piss on my finger was a small price to pay for touching a girl's cunt. "Ooh," she squeaks at the intrusion. "That's nice too, but I want it up the top where it tingles most." I find that without the fabric of her knickers between us, my finger catches slightly on her skin, moving in little judders. Also, it won't stay in her crack, but skips over the outside. My finger reaches the point over that little flap of skin, and she jerks slightly. "Yeah, right there." I jiggle my finger, and it slips into her crack, pressing down on the flap of skin. "Oh, yeah, that's it," she sighs, "Rub it right th- Aiieeeee." She lets out a powerful shriek and shoves at my hand, forcing it away from her fanny, and her legs kick out the hard toes of her sandals catching me right on the breastbone. This time I'm certain I'd hurt her, and my heart now pounds with fear, not passion. "Sorry Annie," I babble, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll stop now. Don't tell your Mum." "It didn't hurt," she assures me, "It felt so good, it was too good." Too good? How can something feel too good? Then I remember how it felt to rub my nut directly with my fingers. It felt great, but so intense I couldn't keep it up for more than a couple of seconds before I felt like screaming and had to stop. So that little fold of skin was a girl's nut, and by the looks of it, it was even more sensitive than mine. I start wondering if I should call it quits. I'd already done much more with a girl than anyone I knew. I had a vague idea of other things I could do with Annie, but maybe I shouldn't be too greedy. If I did something wrong, she might tell someone about it, and then the shit would hit the fan. Annie though had other ideas. "You gotta do it some more," she tells me, her fingers hooking her knickers aside to expose her little puss to my gaze once more. "I wanna feel good again." One look at that bare little mound, and all my good intentions, all thoughts of self-preservation went out the window. I wasn't exactly sure of what else I was going to do with it, but I was going to do my best to work something out. Starting with getting her out of those clothes. "Annie," I say, "wouldn't it be easier if you just took them off. And maybe you should take your dress off too, so it doesn't get all messed up and make your mum mad at you." I was learning. Use her healthy respect for her mother to convince her to do something. "O.K.," she agrees, "but you gotta take your clothes off too, so you can't tell on me." Hell, I wasn't expecting that. It was bad enough getting undressed in front of other boys, especially since I started getting hair around my cock, and it started getting stiff all the time. Kids with stiffies always got laughed at. Now a girl wanted me to get undressed in front of her. I was scared she'd see my stiffy and laugh at it, or call me a homo or something. Suddenly I realised, she wasn't a boy, like duh, and she wouldn't even know any of those names boys called each other, when they got stiffies in the changing rooms. I also realised that there were a lot more things I could do if we were both nude. I had this half idea of what fucking was, and while I figured Annie was too little to do that, I could probably still rub my dick on the outside of her fanny. Suddenly I was anxious to get clothes off. "Well, O.K.," I agree, trying not to sound too eager. First though, I do what any kid who's about to do something forbidden does. I make sure I can't be seen by closing the venetian blinds. When I turn back, Annie is struggling to pull her beruffled dress off over her head. "I'm stuck," she says, her voice muffled by the folds of fabric covering her head. Beneath the half inside out garment, she is wearing her cartoon knickers and a cream-coloured vest, which covers her upper body. "Hold still," I tell her, as I kneel behind her and put her dress back the right way out, and search amongst the many frills and ruffles bedecking her dress for the fastening holding it closed at the back of her neck. I find it soon enough, but for several seconds the hook and eye, resists my efforts, seemingly as complicated as one of those wire puzzles. Finally though it gives way, and with it the zipper that runs down to the middle of her back. For some reason it seems naughtier, to look down into the opening, to where her bottom is covered by a broad white expanse of cloth. As I stare at her bum, she pulls the dress from her shoulders, and lets it fall to pool about her feet. I'm left with an even better view of her knicker-covered bum, but the thrill of the forbidden is suddenly a lot weaker. She turns to face me, and my eyes light on the mound in her crotch. One side of her knickers is pulled askew, the leg band partially caught in her little slit, leaving one fat, hairless lip bare to my gaze. "Your turn," she informs me brightly, as she takes away my view, her finger easing the cloth back to fully cover her fanny. An entire spectrum of emotions washes over me, anticipation, embarrassment, fear of getting caught, elation, and more, thrill through me, one after the other, and piled together at the same time. Still kneeling, I push my jacket from my shoulders, and strip off my t-shirt, baring my chest. My thoughts an incoherent welter, I stand and unfasten my jeans, forcing them down to my ankles, and then try to pull them off over my sneakers. "You're stuck like me," Annie giggles, as I stumble and almost fall. Red-faced with embarrassment, I sit and fumble with my laces until I can kick my shoes off, and work my jeans down over my socks. Half shy, half proud, I clamber back to my feet and stand before her, my stiff prick pushing my jocks out like a tent pole. Annie gasps, her eyes locked on the huge lump. "What's wrong with your crack?" she asks, "How come there's a big lump there?" "Boys don't have cracks," I say. "What is it then?" she asks, and reaches out to poke the end of my prick through the cotton of my jocks. Just the touch of her podgy little finger sends a thrill like I've never felt before surging through me. Making me gasp and draw my hips back involuntarily. She snatches her hand away. "Did I hurt you?" she asks concernedly. "N-no," I stammer, "You just surprised me. It felt good." "What is it?" she asks again, "I wanna see?" "No it's your turn now," I say. She quickly strips off her vest, and then pauses with her fingers caught in the waistband of her knickers. "You do it at the same time," she says. "O.K." I position my fingers like hers, "One. Two. Three." Together, we push our underpants down to our ankles, and straighten, our eyes fixed on each other's groins. Now that she's standing with her feet nearly together, her little, bald fanny looks like a big wedge of pie that's been cut in half with a blunt knife. "Oh wow!" she gasps, her eyes fixed so firmly on the rod of flesh sticking straight out above my balls, that I imagine I can feel them burning me. "What's THAT!" "It's my dick," I tell her, feeling more than a little self-conscious. "How come you got a dick?" "I dunno," I say, "It's just what boys have instead of cracks like girls do." "How come I've never seen it before?" she asks, "It makes a real big lump." "Mostly, it's not big like this," I say, "and it just dangles down." "Oh. Can I see it? Make it dangle?" "I can't," I tell her, "I gotta wait for it to go away by itself." "Oh!" For several seconds both of us stand there, staring at each other's sex organs. Me at the little split mound between her thighs, and she at my stiff prick and wrinkled ball sack. "What's that?" Once again she jabs at me with her finger, this time prodding me solidly in the nuts. Again, I jerk backward, but this time it's in pain. "Ouch!" I cry, cupping the offended parts tenderly. "That hurt." "Sorry," she says contritely, "I didn't mean to." "Yeah, well be careful with that bit," I mutter, "They're real sensitive." "What are they for?" "I dunno," I admit, "but they hurt real bad if you're not careful." "I'm real sorry," she says, "I'll kiss it better." She drops to her knees in front of me, and pushes my suddenly nerveless hand aside. She tilts her head to the side and nuzzles in under my rigid shaft, her oh so soft cheek brushing against the wrinkled underside of my nut. "MMMmmmmMMMMmmmm<smack>," she noisily kisses my wrinkled nutsack with moist, puckered lips. "Yar-gack," I cry incoherently, as electric bolts from my groin short-circuit my brain. With eyes that can barely focus, I look down at Annie kissing my balls with her warm, moist lips. Her baby-soft cheek rubs gently against the underside of my brick-hard cock, sending sensations like nothing I'd ever felt before course through my body. It was like all the symptoms of the flu: hot and cold flashes, sweating, and weakness, but instead of making me feel wretched, it was the most incredible feeling I'd ever known. Somewhere inside me, there was the sensation of increasing pressure. And then it happened. My dick swelled up, and turned an angry purple like my finger did when I wrapped string around it. Then it felt like something snapped inside me, and behind my dick, there was a huge throb. My dick jerked and a small jet of greyish fluid squirted from it, though it was more like a dribble, than a real spurt. It went straight into Annie's ear and she pulled away from me with a squeal. Just in time to get the next spurt right in her surprised face. And this one was the real thing.An almost solid rope of thick, white goo splashed across her open-mouthed face from just above her right eye down to the point of her chin. My cock almost feels like it's burning, but it's not pain but pleasure that I feel. Pleasure like nothing I've ever experienced in all my twelve years. Annie squeaks again, gurgling around the mouthful of goo that I'd inadvertently given her. In trying to pull away, she falls over backwards, landing with her heels half-caught under her buttocks, her legs half-splayed as my cock continues to pulse and squirt more creamy white spunk over her pale white body. The next spurt lands on her chest and stomach, and the next weaker spurt traces a perfect line from her navel to the bottom of her crack. The last squirt is little more than a dribble that falls on her knee and the bare boards beside it, though my body continues to spasm a few more times before finally stopping, leaving me almost too weak to stand up. For several seconds, I stand there in stunned silence, swaying slightly on my rubbery legs, and then the reality of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. Not the fact that I'd just done what Eric had boasted about and squirted spunk myself, but that I'd not only done it over a six-year-old girl, but in her mouth as well. I knew that as soon as she'd told her mum about this, I was dead. I knew it was too late, but I still had to try. I gulp and apologize profusely: "I'm sorry, Annie, I didn't mean to do that. I didn't know it was going to happen. I...." Just then, I realize that she too is apologizing tearfully, sobbing, "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? Did I break something? Please don't tell Mummy. I promise I won't do it again." She appears to be quickly ramping up towards full-blown hysterics, so forgetting my own fears, I drop to the floor next to her and pull her trembling body into my lap. Rocking her back and forth, I make what I hope are comforting noises, whispering them into the riot of coppery curls adorning her head. She responds slowly, but finally subsides to occasional snuffles against my bare chest. Still holding her, I repeat my apologies, "I'm sorry, Annie, I didn't mean it. I hope it didn't taste horrible." She turns her cum-smeared face up towards me and ventures a half-smile. "You won't tell Mummy, will you?" "No, I won't," I promise her. "Fanks," she lisps slightly. She scrubs at her face and looks at her sticky, slippery hand and asks, "What is it? Is it boy wees?" "No, it's called spunk," I reply, "It's different from wees, and it's the first time I ever made it, so I didn't know it was going to happen. I'm sorry it went in your mouth." "That's O.K.," she giggles, "It's kinda nice." As if to prove it, she swirls her tongue in a big circle around her lips and pulls more into her mouth. "What's it for?" I gather the few shreds of real knowledge I have about the facts of life and tell her, "It's for making babies." "Will I have a baby?" she asks eagerly, "I want a baby to play with and Mummy's mean and says I can't have one." "No," I chuckle, "You're much too little; you have to be as old as me and have boobs first." "You said boobs," she giggles naughtily, blushing slightly. Then, pretending sternness, she leans back and waggles her finger at me, saying, "I should wash your mouth out with soap, young man." "Oh no, don't do that," I chuckle, "Anything but that. Boil me in oil, but please don't throw me in the briar patch." "You're silly," she giggles. She then looks down at her spunk-smeared chest and tummy and wipes some up with a finger. She holds it up between us and plays with it a little as she looks at it. "It's real slippery," she says. She pops the finger into her mouth and sucks it clean. "Yummy too." Another swipe and she holds her finger up to me. "Want some?" 'Oh shit, what do I do now?' I ask myself. This game had already gone light years beyond anything I'd imagined at the beginning, and an avalanche of filthy jokes and names we'd used as insults going through my head was giving me ideas that would have been somewhere on the far side of the universe only minutes ago. The thought of how some of those names might be applied to me made me hesitate, but only for a moment. Neither one of us was going to tell, and the possibilities were well worth tasting a fingerful of spunk. Somewhere deeper was a carefully unacknowledged curiosity. I open my mouth and let her insert her little finger between my lips, carefully closing them around the base and letting my tongue touch her fingertip. While I certainly wouldn't rate it flavor of the month, it was in no way unpleasant, salty and sweet at the same time, with a faint earthy undertone. Reassured, I curl my tongue all the way around her finger and suck on it like a baby until the flavor is lost in my saliva and she giggglingly pulls her finger away. "It's not a bottle," she squeals. "Didja like it?" "It's O.K. I guess," I admit, "But you can have it all if you like." "Oh goody," she squeals, "I got it on you too. Can I pretend I'm a kitty and lick it up?" Since she was heading exactly in the direction I wanted her to go, and entirely of her own accord, I waste no time in saying, "Sure, why not." "And then you can be a puppy dog and lick it off me too," she says excitedly. Now this suggestion was along lines that had me and my mates publicly avowing that we'd never do anything so gross as licking a fanny. Privately though, my curiosity had been piqued at the time, and now it pushed me to say, "O.K., but you can go first because it was your idea." "O.K.," she chirps, and scrambles off my lap to kneel facing me. "Lie down," she orders. "Oh wow!" she squeals excitedly, "Your dick's all little now. Can I feel it?" As soon as the words are out of her mouth, I feel the stirring that indicates another stiffy is on the way. Quickly, I say, "Yeah, but you better be quick; it's gonna get big again real soon." Eagerly, she crouches beside my hip and leans in close to my groin. Her little hand reaches out, and she gently pushes at my cock, making it flip up to point at my hip. "Hold it," I suggest breathlessly, "That way you can feel it grow." "Yeah!" she squeals. Her little fingers curl around my stiffening dick, and squeeze it gently. I feel a surge of pleasure in my groin, and her grip becomes suddenly firmer, not from her own actions, but from the sudden thickening of the shaft she holds. At the same time, an involuntary groan escapes my lips. She quickly loosens her grip, but to my great delight, she doesn't withdraw her hand. "Did I hurt you?" she asks worriedly. "Oh no!" I quickly reassure her, "It felt great. You can squeeze it tighter." She does so, and my hips bounce off the floor as another groan escapes. "Move it up and down," I tell her. Her little tongue emerges from the corner of her mouth as she concentrates on following my instructions, and my thoughts turn to speculating how it would feel for it to be licking me. This, and the sensation of her fingers wrapped around my prick, finish the job of getting me hard in record time, making her squeal with excitement. The final hardening also causes the head of my dick to emerge fully from my foreskin, glistening with the remains of my spunk. This causes her to squeal happily and say, "It's a jack-in-the-box." Her movements are jerky at first, but still the feelings they generate rival those I'd had when I'd cum all over her face and body no more than ten minutes earlier. Quickly though, she gains confidence, and her short, jerky motions become smoother and longer, the side of her hand brushing my small tuft of pubes at the bottom of her stroke, and rising to draw my foreskin completely over the head at the top. This amuses her greatly, and she chortles delightedly as she runs her hand up and down. Barely discernible through her giggles are the words, "Now you see it. Now you don't." It seems like only seconds before I feel the same build-up of pressure that I'd felt before, and I groan out, "It's gonna squirt again." Immediately, she stops and takes her hand away, leaving me feeling a strange ache, half pleasurable and half frustration. "No, not yet," she squeals, "You're not allowed to. You have to wait till I clean up all the rest first." Frustration gives way to anticipation when I hear this, and I wonder just how far she will go. Her next words answer this speculation. "Then I'll put it in my mouth so I can have it all." 'Holy shit!' my mind yammers, 'YES! She's gonna suck my cock and it's all her own fucking idea.' The pressure behind my cock goes up another notch, and then another as she leans over and licks up a smear of spunk from just above my left nipple. Just like a kitten's, her tongue flicks in and out of her mouth as she systematically laps up the diagonal stripe of cum running across my chest to the bottom of my rib cage. When she reaches the end of the trail, she pushes my legs apart and shuffles in between them, leaning over my throbbing cock. Her fingers once again wrap around it and hold it so that the angry purple crown points at the ceiling. Without hesitation, she closes the gap and laps up the residue of my last cum from the tip, making me yelp with indescribable pleasure, and ratcheting the pressure inside me to a point where I feel like I'm about to explode. Concerned, she turns her face towards mine, asking, "Are you O.K.?" "Uh-huh," I manage to nod, "It felt really good." "Is it O.K. if I suck it?" Just the thought is almost enough to tip me over the edge, but I want to feel it for real. Somehow I manage to hold the imminent eruption at bay and choke out, "Sure, but be careful of your teeth." "I will.""she agrees, and without further ado, she envelops my cock in the hottest, wettest, most incredible mouth imaginable. I don't know how I do it, but I manage to fight down the NEED behind my cock, my teeth gritted to hold back the howl of pleasure that fights to escape. Through those same gritted teeth, I force out the words, "Take your hand away, and make your mouth go up and down like you did with your hand." She releases me long enough to say, "That's a good idea." A moment later, her lips descend again, traveling all the way to the base of my shaft as she takes her hand away and uses it to support herself on my hip. She snorts a little as the tip of my cock brushes against the back of her mouth, but remains in place, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks on my cock like a calf. Bolts of lightning rip through me, leaving me beyond coherent thought. My hips jerk involuntarily, pushing her head away from me as I fall back to the floor. "Oh fuck Annie!" I groan, "That's great. Suck it Annie." My hands come up of their own accord, gripping the sides of her head and guiding her up and down. "Like that Annie," I mumble, "Do it like that." With wet, slurping sounds, she does as I ask, and on her own initiative goes even further, swirling her tongue around the tip of my cock near the top of her stroke. The whole time, her cheeks remain hollowed, using main strength to pull herself away from me, and then allowing her suction to pull herself back down. Blood rushes through my ears, driven by my pounding heart, liquid fire courses through me. My hands want to crush the tiny head they are holding, jamming it down into my lap. I bite my lip, drawing blood, achieving just enough respite to drag my hands down to my side. Babbling obscenities, I encourage her to go faster, my hips vibrating with the NEED to release the pressure building deep inside me. My fingernails dig deeply into my palms as I fight back the NEED, knowing instinctively that the longer I hold it back, the better the final release will be. Through eyes filled with tears of pleasure, I watch as her copper-crowned head bobs up and down, her lips locked so tightly around my shaft that it's almost dry. Inside her mouth, though, a pool of liquid fire fills her mouth, and every few moments, she swallows the excess saliva, her convulsing tongue rasping against the underside of my cock, sending bolts of fire slamming up my spine to the base of my skull. Finally, I can hold back no longer, and I gasp out, "Oh fuck Annie, here it comes. Suck it Annie. Suck my spunk Annie. Suck my cock." Galvanized by my words, she sucks harder still, the insides of her cheeks actually touching the sides of my cock. Her riot of coppery curls flies in all directions as she goes faster still, her lip lock failing and releasing a flood of saliva onto my pubes and tightening balls. Her eyes plead with me to let it go, to fill her tiny mouth with my spunk. Electricity shoots up the length of my spine, and it feels like someone has poured molten metal through my cock. My entire world narrows down to the ruby lips wrapped around my rock-hard prick, and the soft flesh inside caressing the bloated head of my cock. Liquid fire forces itself through me again and again, an agony of pleasure. Vaguely I'm aware of Annie gurgling, but it's beyond me to care at this moment. Her bottom teeth scrape me lightly as she gulps down her first mouthful, but this only drives me higher still. My hands come up again to grip her head, and she clutches my hips, as if fearful that I might force her away before I'm done. An eternity later, my internal convulsions subside, and the sensation of her mouth becomes too intense for me to endure. Gasping, I tell her, "Stop Annie. Stop, it's starting to hurt." With one last cheek-hollowing slurp, she pulls away, and my already shrinking cock falls from her lips to slap wetly on my hip. Sitting up, she looks down at me with a shit-eating grin, strands of spunk festooning her teeth and lips. "That was yummy!" she tells me happily. Still grinning, she pushes her spunk-coated tongue out and licks at her lips and teeth. "That's good," I croak. "You sure made some funny noises and you said heaps of bad words," she giggles, her tongue making another ineffectual swipe at her teeth. "That's because you made me feel so good," I praise her. "It's the best I've ever felt." "Oh goody," she squeals, "That means you'll let me do it again." "You bet," I grin, "But not just yet. I need some time to catch my breath." "That's O.K.," she says, "You can lick the spunk off me first, and then can I have some more?" "We'll see," I say, not making any promises, "I think I made a lot of spunk that time, and it might take me a while to make some more." "Oh. O.K.," she says, looking a little disappointed. "Anyway," I say brightly, wanting to cheer her up and keep her happy, "it's my turn now. I'm gonna be a puppy dog and lick your face." "Ooh yuck," she squeals, holding her hands up in a warding gesture. However, she giggles so madly that I know her expression of disgust is for form's sake only. Yipping, I bounce up onto my hands and knees and like an eager puppy, I bowl her over onto her back. Darting in between her wildly waving hands, I plant a broad, flat, and very wet lick up the side of her face. Squealing with laughter, she pushes at me weakly and turns her head aside, presenting the other cheek for the same treatment. Between licks, I let out flurries of high-pitched barks, which are occasionally marred by my voice cracking, but this only makes her laugh all the more. The whole game becomes so much fun that I temporarily forget the sexual angle, and it's only when I playfully grab her earlobe between my teeth and gently tug it that I'm reminded. "OH WOW!" She squeals, making me let go and sit back in a hurry. "Sorry Annie," I apologize, "I got a bit carried away, did I hurt you." "Uh-uh," she shakes her head emphatically, "It felt funny. It made me go all shivery all over." "That's good," I say, and grin. "Oh goody," I cry, "I can see some spunk on your boob." "That tickles funny," she squeals, when I dart in to rasp my tongue over the tiny pink dot on her chest. If it hadn't been for the little hands tangled in the hair on the back of my head, I would have stopped, but it's very obvious that tickle or not, she likes it. Beneath my tongue, the little pink dot hardens, and in the middle, a tiny bump pops up. Pursing my lips, I try to suck on it, and I'm rewarded by a squeal of delight and a tightening of the fingers curled in my hair. "Do it again," she squeaks, "Feels nice." I open my mouth wider while still sucking, and flick at the raised bump with the tip of my tongue. "Wowee!" she squeals, and physically drags my head across her chest, "DO THE OTHER ONE!" Accompanied by squeaks, squeals, and giggles, I switch back and forth between her nonexistent boobs, licking and sucking while making little puppy dog growls in the back of my throat. "Good doggie," she giggles, patting my head, "Lick my boobs like a good doggie." I'm content to let her guide me back and forth between her nipples for a few seconds, but 'good doggie' has other goals in mind. Fortunately, at my age, I'm unaware of the common belief that little kids can't become sexually aroused, and my evil twelve-year-old mind, now that the edge of my horniness has been worn off, is looking to the future. If I can give her even half the pleasure that she's already given me, I figure that I'll own her, pretty much body and soul. Expressions of horror and disgust from other kids my own age notwithstanding, I reckon that licking fanny can't be all that bad or there wouldn't be so many dirty jokes about it. Whimpering, I tug against her fingers, trying to follow the drying trail of spunk down her chest. "Oh poor doggie," she giggles, "I'm stopping you from eating up the yummy spunk." Actually, it's not all that yummy anymore, tasting a little sour, but it's still not that bad either. So when she relaxes her grip, I feign eagerness in chasing the spunk trail down her body. When I reach her tummy, she erupts into peals of giggles which become shrieks of laughter when I reach her belly button and dig into it with my tongue. "Oh wow!" she gasps, as I continue lower still, "Are you going to lick me there too, puppy? That's yucky." Lifting my head, I look up at her and bark sharply, and pant loudly and eagerly with my tongue hanging out like a dog's. Then, lowering my head to her crotch, I sniff around, partly to remain in character, and partly to determine if I really wanted to do this. The odor that greeted me was a mixture of talc, fresh sweat, and something like the smell that hung around the older girls' lockers at school in summer. That made me pause for a moment, since the smell at school was sometimes a real pong, strong enough to make us boys gag and make nasty remarks. But the smell that wafted up from Annie's little crack was somehow different from that stink, and it sent a signal to my brain, which was immediately passed on to my dick. Satisfied that there's no smell of piss, and urged on by my rapidly rehardening dick, I push my nose right into her crack and sniff deeply. I'd almost swear to hearing a "Twang" as my cock surges to full hardness, and something in the deepest recesses of my brain screams out, "MORE!" There's no need to steel myself for the next stage now. Shit, it would take a tow truck to tear me loose from between Annie's skinny thighs. My first lick over her plump, hairless mound is greeted with delight. "WOWEE!" she squeals, "DO IT AGAIN! Do it lots!"My mind processes the flavor, but the first lap gets me little more than the taste of my own spunk, salt, sweet, and sour all at once, but there is a little tickle which speaks to that deep, unthinking part of my brain which drives me forward. At the same time, the position is more than a little awkward for me, being so close to the ground, so I sit back on my heels, wincing slightly as her fingers tear a few hairs from my head. I look around the room, searching for something to lift her fanny up to my level. There, the couch cushion should do. I grab one and pull it to the floor, pushing it under Annie's bum, when she arches her back to accommodate me. However, instead of diving straight back in, I decide to take the opportunity to take a closer look. I grasp her stick-thin legs just below the knees and push them out until she looks like a frog pinned out for dissection, her thighs forming a horizontal line with her fanny in the middle. With my thumbs, I gently prise the fat, little lips apart, and for the first time in my life, I see in perfect detail the mysteries of a girl's sex. At the top, in the middle is the little fold of skin which she'd said felt too good when I touched it, her nut. Coming down, the fold split in two, forming two little flaps of skin which went down to the pink dimple at the bottom. They would have been all but invisible except for the marked difference in color on either side of each one. Outside, the skin was almost exactly the same color as the skin on the rest of her body, maybe flushed a little pinker, but basically the same. Inside, the skin was somehow smoother and shinier, and a much brighter pink too, almost the same color as the inside of her mouth. Just below her nut at the top, between the two little flaps, there was a little bump with a tiny dimple right in the middle. Curious, I twisted my hands around until I could get my fingers on either side of it, while still holding the rest open with my thumbs. After little gentle fumbling, accompanied by squeaks, giggles, and little gasps, which must be of pleasure since she doesn't voice any objections, I succeed in prising the dimple open, revealing a tiny slit that seems to go deeper into her body. Suddenly, it dawns on me that this must be her pee hole, and that girls don't piss from their cunt hole like we'd thought. "That tickles," she giggles, "And it makes me sorta feel like I wanna do wees." "Do you need to?" I ask, half anxious, in case she decides to do it in my mouth. While I'm perfectly willing to lick her little cunt to make her more willing to continue our games, I draw the line at drinking piss, to achieve that end. "Uh-uh," she shakes her head, "It's different." "Well, make sure you tell me if you need to," I caution her, "I don't want a drink by mistake." "I won't," she giggles. "Or is it 'I will'?" "Just don't do it," I laugh. Continuing my explorations, I move on to the bigger dimple at the bottom, realizing that this must be where the *hole* is. Sure enough, it only takes a gentle pressure to open it up, revealing a hole about two-thirds the diameter of my little finger. Little beads of moisture around the rim of this hole make me briefly wonder if I was right about the other, tiny hole being where she peed from, but by dipping my head and sniffing, I'm able to determine two things. Firstly, I still can't detect any urine odor, and secondly, what I can smell is a stronger whiff of that which had screamed 'FEMALE' in the deeper recesses of my mind. My twitching cock also told me that this was something which I wanted a whole lot more of. Curiosity and the bragging of a couple of boys outside my own circle center made me test this hole with a fingertip, but it didn't feel like it would yield, and I didn't want to hurt her by trying to force it. Now was the moment of truth, shuffling back a little to get a better angle, I dip my head and push the tip of my tongue into the little valley held open by my thumbs. I suppose I'm still a little cowardly, because I touch down just above the hole at the bottom, and do so very tentatively. However, I taste nothing nasty, and press in a little more firmly, though still above the hole, and drag my tongue through the little pink furrow to the bump at the top. Annie lets out a shriek that could shatter glass, and I'm worried that I've hurt her for the brief instant it takes for her to buck and grab the back of my head in a death grip. "A-GAIN!" she squeals, "Lick me again!" Since it seems that the only way I'm going to get my head back is to comply, I push my tongue out and into the groove between her fanny lips, not that I'm likely to back off anyway. Her bucking had briefly pushed her hole over the tip of my tongue, and what I tasted was delicious beyond belief. It wasn't a strong taste, in fact, I could barely taste it at all, but it made a direct connection between my tongue and my cock. All in an instant, I was addicted to fanny. She could piss in my mouth and I wouldn't care, I wasn't leaving until she pushes me away, or I wore my tongue off. Pinning her down with my hands, I dive in and go at it hard, my stiffened tongue pressed deep into the succulent groove between her legs. Up and down the length of her furrow, I lick. Fortunately for my ears, she's more prepared for my tongue against her nut, and emits a little gasp, rather than the paint-peeling squeal that had greeted first contact. "More! More! More! Lick it more!" she squeaks, squirming beneath my hands, until I'm afraid I'll leave bruises. Happy to comply, I open my mouth until it covers almost her entire fanny mound, and suck hard while I dig around with my tongue. "Ah, fruit tingles," she swears in her cute little six-year-old idiom. "Lick my crack, Krissy. It feels sooo good." The way her fanny is laid out frustrates me a little, since the part which gets the greatest response from her is furthest from where I want to stick my tongue, but I quickly work out a rhythm which gives us both what we want. Down to the bottom where I drill the stiffened tip of my tongue into her hole, seeking out the sweet nectar of her little honeypot, then up to flick back and forth a couple of times over the growing bulge at the top. A miss going for her nut shows me another sensitive point. A jerk of her hips at the wrong moment causes my tongue to dig at her little piss hole, eliciting a squeal almost as shrill as the one which had greeted my tongue on her nut. I'm briefly disgusted by the inadvertent contact, but quickly recover with a mental shrug, and add it to my tongue's itinerary. Now I begin by pushing as deep into her cunt hole as I can. I dig for every skerrick of continually renewing fanny nectar, then drag up through her slit to her piss hole where I pause with a little digging wriggle of my tongue tip, and finally a flick of the tip of my tongue over her nut. After a couple of rounds like this, I notice a change in the textures beneath my tongue. Everything is much slipperier from my saliva, but beyond that, the little flaps of skin seem much more prominent, and everything seems firmer too. At the top, the little fold seems more like a stalk now, and best of all the hole at the bottom feels bigger and more open, each time I push into it with my tongue, I get the impression that I'm delving a little deeper. Disentangling her fingers from my hair, I draw back to take a look. The most obvious difference is that the entire raised area between her legs is flushed bright pink, like her fanny was blushing. The fat lips look fuller too. When I prise them apart, they're definitely firmer, deforming less beneath the tips of my thumbs. The flaps inside are much darker now, and instead of being almost invisibly thin, they're swollen up into clearly visible ridges. At the top, her nut really is a nut now, a tiny dark pink knob peeks out from the fold of skin. Below, between the inner flaps, the pink valley is now closer to purple than pink. At the upper end of the valley, her piss bump seems fuller too, and the little slit at the top gapes open. The memory of how her hole seemed more open around my tongue prompts me to test it with my little finger. Her baby cunt hole truly is bigger, and it almost seems to suck my finger into it, accepting me all the way to the first knuckle before I meet an obstruction. "What's THAT?" she shrieks, her hips bouncing against my other hand, which fortunately for her is both holding her crack open, and also pinning her hips to the cushion. At this stage in life, I'm almost completely ignorant of hymens and except in the context of dirty jokes, virginity. Thanks to my hand though, what could have been a rather painful experience for her, is nothing more than a slight pinch. Still, she squeaks out a soft, "Ouch!" and subsides into motionlessness. "What are you doing?" she asks, "That hurt." "Sorry," I apologize, "I was seeing if I could put my finger in your hole." "What hole?" "The hole where the boy puts his dick and squirts his spunk to make babies when you're bigger," I reply. "Can I see?" she asks, feeling around with her hand where my finger is still knuckle-deep in her hole. Cautiously, I take my finger out, and she replaces it with her own. "Oh wow, I didn't know *that* was there!" she squeaks. Experimentally, she pushes her finger in and out a few times, wincing slightly when she goes a little too deep. "Oh wow!" she cries, "That feels really nice. You do it some more, cause your finger's bigger, but don't go too far, it hurts then." She takes her finger out and looks at it as if she's never seen it before, and cautiously sniffs it. "It doesn't smell like pee," she says. "What's it taste like?" "Try it and see.""I say, raising my own finger to my mouth and sucking the sweet nectar from it. "I like it." Wrinkling her nose, she tries it for herself and smiles, "It's almost as yummy as your spunk," she says. "I'd say it was yummier," I grin back, "but that's the way it's supposed to be, boys taste good to girls and girls taste good to boys." "Uh-huh," she nods, "Now you do it." "Okay," I say, cautioning her, "but hold still, I don't want to hurt you." Just to be sure, I keep her pinned with my hand as I insinuate my finger back into her hole. "Make it go in and out now," she tells me, once I'm up against the barrier inside. I push my finger in and out of her slippery little hole a few times, marveling that in the space of less than an hour, I'd gone from complete sexual ignorance, to feeling up a girl through her knickers, and then inside them. I'd gotten sucked off, and had licked a cunt, and now I was fingering it too. Only one thing remained and I was determined that I'd accomplish it too, some time in the not too distant future. Towards that end, I tried pushing replacing my finger with the next one, and when that was successful I tried my middle finger, the finger with which a guy was supposed to finger fuck a girl. Her now loose little fanny accepted it without a hitch, her only response being a low sigh of pleasure. In and out I pump my finger, entering the clinging little tube to just below the first knuckle. The sight of her little fanny swallowing my finger like that enthralls me, as I realize that from here to the ultimate goal amounts to nothing more than stretching the hole by the same amount that it had already opened. It might even be stretched enough already, since my dick had some give in it, unlike the bones in my finger. However, before I can ask if I can try to put my dick where my finger is, she interrupts my reverie, saying, "Can you lick it some more please? I like that better." I wanted to say "no", and put forward my own suggestion, but I realize that I'm better off giving into her demands before making any of my own. Besides, my tongue still tingled with the memory of her taste, and I wanted more of that before I spoiled it with my spunk anyway. Dipping my head, I lick all around my finger where it penetrates her and then up through her crack to her nut at the top. "YES!" she squeals, "More!" I lick her a couple more times, but it's awkward with my finger in the way, and I'm scared that she might hurt herself too. So I take my finger away and replace it with my tongue. Immediately it's flooded with her sweet nectar, fluids dammed inside her by my finger spilling out onto my eagerly lapping tongue. Moaning almost as loudly as she is, I suck it up, rolling it around inside my mouth like a fine wine, but there's no way this wine is ending up in a bucket. I'll drink her down, drain her dry, every drop of delicious moisture that passes my lips will remain there, swallowed only to make room for more. Annie's breath comes in short sharp pants, while her heels skid on the polished boards, striving to push her little pelvis upwards, forcing the rubbery lips of her fanny against my lips as I delve between them for her pleasure and mine. Within moments, her exhalations become breathy little gasps, finishing with faint squeaks. Once again her fingers entwine themselves in my hair, holding my head in place, while she scrubs her swollen little fanny over my lips and tongue. Finally, I'm forced to steady her hips with my own hands, her motions are that violent. My nose hurts from a too swift meeting with the hard bone beneath the top of her mound. With her almost stilled, I can dig once more for fanny gold, forcing my tongue deeper into her tight little hole further than I've ever delved before. Far enough that the tip brushes the barrier which had frustrated my fingers moments earlier. Rapidly, I plunge the tip of my tongue in and out of her little fanny, fucking her with it, as I draw the delicious secretions into my mouth to be savored and swallowed. "At the top too," she reminds me breathily, her hands tugging at my hair, when I show no sign of abandoning her little well of delight. Somewhat reluctantly, I let her pull me the few centimeters upwards to her swollen little nut, and hammer it with the tip of my tongue, flicking it back and forth over the fat little bulb, then remembering her nipples, I press my lips in around it and suck hard. Again her shriek threatens the windows and the paint coating the walls, and her hips convulse upwards, my weight no match for the sudden hysterical strength she's imbued with. Her fingers clutch me tighter still, and pull me even harder against herself, pushing my nose sideways and mashing it flat. "AGAIN!" she squeals, "Suck it HARD!" I suck, and she squeals again, a little less shrilly than before, but her clenching fingers make up for it, tearing a half dozen or so hairs from my head. Still even that sharp pain doesn't really penetrate, except in a strangely detached manner, for the moment my entire world is between stick like legs of my six year old lover. "Now lick!" she cries, her hands forcing my tongue back down to the weeping hole, which is filled with such delicious nectar. Once again I fuck her tight little hole with my tongue, reaming her out good, pushing the tip so far inside that I can push it against the rubbery barrier blocking further entry. Back and forth between nut, and hole, I follow her hands, doing my best to return the pleasures that she'd given me with her mouth. "Oh, oh. Something's happening," she squeaks, "Oh Kris! More! OH! OH! OH! Something's happening!" she finishes with a rising shriek, her heels dig into the floor as her legs snap shut on the sides of my head. Her little bum lifts completely clear of the cushion, forcing her fanny up into my face. More hairs part company with my head, but I barely notice it, as a flood of stronger tasting juices flows over my tongue. Fighting her hands, and opening my mouth I seal it over her fanny, and lap up and down the full length of her groove, tasting her juices at the bottom. I excite more squeaks of delight from her lips, when I reach the top and try to force her nut back inside its hood with the tip of my tongue. Before my eyes, her little belly ripples with muscular contractions, and her little hole refuses to let more than the very tip of my tongue inside, the walls nibbling on the tiny portion it does accept. The flush which surrounded her fanny has now spread as high as her belly button and a matching flush has descended from her face to surround her nipples. Finally, her legs relax their grip on my head falling bonelessly to the sides as she now tugs weakly on my hair, not to increase the pressure, but to draw me away. "Stop!" she cries weakly, "That's enough." I resist her long enough to make one final pass through her slit, gathering up the last of her girlish equivalent to spunk, then let her almost strengthless fingers pull me away. Now it's my turn to sit back on my heels with a shit eating grin, looking down on her body as the rosy flush surrounding her fanny and nipples slowly subsides, and her ragged breathing returns to normal. "How was that?" I ask when something resembling intelligence returns to her glassy eyes. "It was awesome," she breathes after a couple of croaking attempts to speak. "Is that what it feels like when you squirt spunk? Did I squirt some too?" "Not exactly," I reply, "Only boys make spunk, but you were pretty yummy anyway. And I guess it feels like I did too." She struggles to sit up, so I offer her a hand which she uses to pull herself upright. then curling herself into a ball she tries to inspect her still swollen fanny. "It looks real sore," she comments, half to herself, "But it feels *good*." "I suppose it's like my dick," I say to her, "When it feels good, it swells up and goes red too." "I suppose," she agrees as she peels herself open to look inside. "Hey that bit looks sort of like your dick." She pokes her nut and gasps. "That's the bit that feels sooo good, isn't it." "Yeah," I reply. She looks up and immediately focuses on my stiff prick standing proudly in its dark nest of pubes. "Oh goody, it's stiff again," she cries. "Can I suck some more spunk out of it?" "Later," I tell her, "There's something else I want to try first." "What's that?" she asks curiously. "I want to see if it will fit inside your hole," I reply, "Can I try?" "I fought you said I had to be bigger first," she says. "I thought so too," I say, "but my biggest finger goes in real easy, and I can put my tongue all the way in too. I just want to try it, I'll stop if it hurts." "Okay," she agrees, "But, I get to suck your dick and drink your spunk after. Okay?" "You bet!" I say with unconcealed glee. She lies back on the floor, and immediately sits up to pull the other two cushions from the couch and fit them behind her so that she can watch as I try to put my dick in her fanny. I lean over her reclining form, trying to find an angle where I can fit my dick up against her, but with the two cushions behind her, her fanny is at the wrong angle for me to penetrate, and after a couple of fruitless attempts, I sit back frustrated. Annie too, looks almost as frustrated, as my fumbling attempts to fit my cock against her hole, have begun to excite her again. "What do we do?" she asks me as she looks around the room for an answer. I too look, and after a few seconds I spot the armchairs. "What if we put a couple of cushions on the floor there," I point. "and you get on the chair with some more behind you, so you can see too." "Okay," she agrees, and scrambles to her feet taking two of the cushions with her.I gather up the cushion she'd been sitting on, and the one from the second chair and bring it over to where she's standing stuffing her own cushions into place. I drop them on the floor at her feet and wait while she scrambles into place, her bum right at the front edge of the cushion. She lifts her legs up and throws her calves over the arms of the chair. She peels her fanny open, looking down as I kneel before her. My cock is at exactly the right height. It droops a little sadly, but one quick swipe up the length of her slit is enough to bring it back to full hardness. However, when I push it against her hole, I almost decide to stop. The end of my dick when it's flattened against her fanny, almost touches her nut at the same time. However, Annie looks down at the incipient junction between our bodies intently, wriggling her hips as much as her rather contorted position allows. "Rub it up and down," she tells me. "Make it go on my tingly bit." With only the experience of the two cums earlier in the day to go by, I'm a little worried that too much stimulation will make me squirt again before I can try out her tight little hole. However, she looks up at me so pleadingly that I decide to give it a go anyway. "Mmm, that's nice," she says softly as I drag the tip of my cock through her spread open slit. As I pass over her nut, I push a little with my hips, feeling the hard little kernel with the sensitive skin of my own nut. Back and forth, top to bottom, I slide the tip of my cock, each pass getting slipperier and easier, as I smear the mixture of her fanny juices and my saliva through her slit and over the ruby tip of my cock. After nearly a minute of this, her breathing is again speeding up, and she's making tiny squeaks of pleasure. When I push inwards over her hole, I feel it opening slightly, the harder core of my stiff member, making its way just inside, though the majority of my nut still remains on the outside. Annie adds her own motions to mine, rocking her little hips from side to side. And it's Annie's attempts to add to the sensations which lead to her downfall. Literally so. Her little bum still slick with sweat from her earlier climax slips on the plastic cushion beneath her, at the very moment that I press into her little hole. This time, I'd felt a slight easing of the tension at its entrance, and I was watching entranced as nearly three quarters of my nut disappeared from view. When she slips, her entire body shoots towards me, catching me totally by surprise. The sudden and unexpected shove, knocks me over backwards, and I find myself looking up into Annie's bugged out eyes. Her mouth hangs open with surprise. Surrounding my cock, I feel a hot, moist and very snug sleeve of soft flesh. It's like her mouth when she was sucking me off, but instead of just the ring of her lips holding me, the entire length of my shaft was being squeezed even more tightly. Stunned, I look down the length of my body to where she sits astride my hips, impaled to the hilt on my rock hard cock. Every last millimetre of my dick is inside her tiny six year old body, the barrier which had blocked my fingers and hers, no match for the weight of her body falling on my steely spear. A gasp from her is the first indication that she might be hurt, and I look up to see the bug-eyed look of surprise has been replaced with a painful wince. However, she puts a brave face on it, and with tears in her eyes, she essays a half-hearted giggle and complains, "Ouch, that stings." "I'm not surprised," I say, "Do you know, you've got my whole dick inside you?" "I have?" she squeals, contorting her body trying to look, and sending delightful tingles up my spine as her movement causes her tight fanny to slide off my cock slightly. "Yow!" she yelps softly, but it sounds almost distracted as she stares at the point where our bodies are joined. "How did it all get in there?" she asks wonderingly, and holds up her fingers about two centimetres apart, "You could only get this much before." "I don't really know," I reply almost as confused as she is, "I once heard a big kid say something about busting a girl's vaginity, so maybe that's what it was. Maybe it's there to keep poop out when you're a baby or something." "Oh," she nods, accepting my somewhat confused explanation. "Does it hurt much?" I ask her. "A little bit," she replies, "but Mummy hurts much more when she spanks me. It just stings a little bit now." "Maybe you should get off," I say, responsibility winning out over my horniness, now that it's too late. "Do I have to?" she asks, "It feels good too. Sorta stretchy, and it hardly hurts at all now." "No, you can stay there if you want," I tell her as horniness gives responsibility a raspberry. "Try moving up and down a little bit." "Like with my mouth?" she asks. "Just like that," I say, "But just a tiny bit first in case it hurts too much." With a look of intense concentration on her face, she puts her hand on my chest and leans forwards, pulling herself maybe a centimetre off my cock. Again little bolts of pleasure shoot outwards from my buried cock. For Annie, the experience is a little less enjoyable, but even for her pleasure exceeds the residual pain she is feeling. "Ow-wow!" she squeals. "It still stings a bit, but it feels good too," she informs me. "How do you feel?" "It feels great," I tell her, "But don't hurt yourself for me. We can stop and try it again some other time." "No, it's all right!" she cries, and lifts herself a good five centimetres before dropping back with a smile. "See?" What I see is a girl impaled on my cock, and rampant horniness gives the last vestiges of responsibility the boot. "I'm doing it," I say to myself wonderingly, "I'm really fucking a girl." "Oooh!" Annie gasps with a sharp intake of breath, "That's a real bad word. I said I once and Mummy made me eat a piece of soap this big." "Well she's not here right now," I say with a grin, 'So she'll never know if you don't tell her." "Yeah!" she giggles, "Can I say it too?" "Yep. you can say anything you like." Giggling madly, she whispers, "I'm fucking you Kris. Your dick's in my hole and I'm fucking it. Now you say something." "I'm rooting your little fanny Annie," I say, "I've got my cock all the way up your little baldie cunt and I'm fucking you." As I speak, Annie begins to lift up and down on my cock, slowly at first, but soon she is bouncing up and down with abandon. The sensation of the snug, and burning hot sheath sliding up and down the length of my cock, is incredible, jolts of fire sear pathways from my crotch to my brain. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Annie chants in time with her bouncing. "Fuck me. Root me. Fuck my bald fanny with your big fat dick Krissy. I wanna fuck you forever. It feels real good with your fat dick in my cunt Kris." "Oh FUCK Annie!" I cry, "Your fanny's so fucking tight, it's squeezing my cock so good. I wanna fuck you forever too Annie. I love you Annie, Fuck me Annie. Fuck me until I squirt your little cunt full of creamy spunk Annie." "Oooh Yeah!" she cries, bouncing even faster. "Squirt the baby stuff in me Krissy. Put a baby in my tummy. I wanna baby to play with. I want two babies. I wanna boy and a girl baby so they can fuck too. I can fuck the boy, and you can fuck the girl, and they can fuck each other too. Fuck me Krissy. Fuck me a baby. Put a fucking baby in my fucking baldie cunt hole." "Fuck Annie," I yell, "You're so fucking dirty. I gotta fuck you properly." "Yeah fuck me!" she yells as I struggle to roll her over onto her back beneath me without pulling out. "No don't stop," she continues as my efforts fail and my prick slips out of her clinging little fanny. I manhandle her skinny body onto the cushions I'd been kneeling on, putting her on her back with her head and shoulders twenty centimetres lower than her hips and bald little cunt. Holding my stiff prick in one hand, I support myself over her skinny little body, and press the fat nut up against her little hole. She's still stretched open, and I have no trouble sliding my stiff dick back into the sung, moist, depths of her hot little cunt. "FUCK ME KRISSY!" she squeals happily as I bottom out in her tight, six year old sheath, "Fuck my bald cunt Krissy and put a baby in my tummy." "Little cunt," I grunt, as I fuck my stiff prick into her tiny fanny, "Fucking little spunk sucking cunt." I look down between our sweat slick bodies to where my twelve year old prick enters her six year old crack. Except there almost is no crack, just a hole forced open by my thick shaft surrounded by a pair of almost nonexistent ridges. Even her nut is missing half the time, dragged inside along with the inner lips to ride along the top of my shaft. When I pull back, it's like half her guts want to come too. First her little nut appears, swollen and shaded an angry looking red. Then her inner lips, shiny and pink, stretched round my prick shaft like a rubber band. As I continue backwards, they pucker out further, forming a shallow, fat cone, with my dick rising from the center like an obscene, volcanic core. "Do it faster Krissy!" she squeals, reaching up and wrapping her arms around me and digging her fingers into my shoulder. Luckily her nails are cut short or she'd be tearing my back to ribbons. Her little heels come up and beat a tattoo on the backs of my legs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck my little cunt Krissy." She is so fucking tight around my dick, that it takes a monumental effort to go even a fraction faster. Sweat drips from my nose and chin, forming a shimmering pool on the floor above her bouncing head. "Oh fuck cunt!" I cry, "It's happening. It's cumming. I'm gonna squirt." "Do it!"she squeals, tightening her arms and legs about me, "Squirt a baby in me. Squirt two babies. Squirt a million babies." "OH FUCK!" I shriek, as boiling lead sears a pathway from my balls to the deeply buried tip of my cock. My vision darkens at the edges as the blood sings in my ears. Deep inside me, something convulses, sending the first thick, creamy jet of spunk deep into the hot, clinging recesses of her little fuck hole. "I can feel it," she squeals excitedly. "I can feel it squirting. Oh, it's happening again. Oh, oh, oh. AiieeeeeEEEEEEEE!" Her already tight cunt sheath suddenly becomes tighter still, clenching around my stiff dick like the hand of a drowning man clutching a rope. It ripples along the length of my prick from base to tip, as if trying to pull me even deeper into her body. Her little cunt practically sucks the spunk from my cock as another searing pulse sets my dick on fire. Beneath me, her tiny body flops around like a fish dying on my sex spear. Her squeals and my deeper, but cracked, grunts fill the air. The almost painful tightness of her cunt holds me deep inside her body, stopping me from making anything but tiny jerking motions as I pump wad after wad of spunk deep inside her fanny. My cock and balls begin to ache as I run out of spunk, but the continual milking of her contracting cunt sheath keeps me going long after there is nothing left to squirt. Again and again, my insides tie themselves into a tight knot, as her little cunt seems to be trying to pull my entire body inside. Finally, her tense little body sags, and like a puppet with its strings cut, I collapse on top of her, only my elbows beneath me, preventing me from crushing her completely. For most of a minute, we lie there, still locked together as we struggle to suck air into our oxygen-starved lungs. Eventually, my weight becomes too much for her skinny-hipped body to bear, and making muffled protests, Annie pushes weakly at my shoulders. Groaning with the effort, I manage to straighten one arm beneath me and roll from her tiny frame. The back of my head thumps down on the uncushioned boards, momentarily bringing stars to my eyes. And for several more minutes, we lie there, our legs still entangled, as we pantingly recover from our exertions. Annie is the first to recover. "Wow!" she squeals happily, "That was fun. Can we do it again?" "Oh shit Annie!" I groan, "I can't. It feels like I've rubbed half the skin off my dick. Aren't you sore too?" She raises herself to a sitting position atop the pile of cushions and turns herself into a pretzel looking at her fanny. "I guess," she admits, "It's starting to sting a bit. Wow! It sure is red too." I struggle to get myself up onto one elbow to look for myself. Her once tiny little fanny now gapes like an open wound, the previously white skin now a bruised-looking dark pink. The tiny hole at the bottom is no more, replaced by a dark two-centimetre wide tunnel leaking a pinkish froth. "Oh fuck!" I groan, falling back, another star shell exploding in my head as it crashes to the floor. "What's wrong?" she asks. "Your mother," I groan. "If she sees that I'm dead." "Oh!" she mumbles, "Will we get in lots of trouble?" "Oh God!" I cry, hiding my face in my hands as if to shut out the evidence of my lust-crazed assault. "We'll just have to make something up then," she says with practicality beyond her years, "I'll tell her I spilled coke or something, so you had to give me a bath, and she won't have to. Maybe it'll be better by tomorrow." I peer through my fingers at the raw-looking flesh between her legs and groan again. No way will what I've done heal overnight. It doesn't even look like it will be better before the weekend five days away. I might be able to get away with it once, but there's no excuse on Earth that will let me justify giving her her bath every night through to Friday, even if that was long enough for the damage I'd inflicted to heal. However, when the alternative is confession, I'm willing to clutch at straws. Maybe it will heal overnight, or maybe Mrs Brownlow just won't look. She's real weird about things like that. Annie's bathers even have a skirt on them. "Yum!" Annie's expression of delight makes me look up, to see her sucking on her finger. As I watch, she puts it down between her legs and scoops up another fingerful of pinkish scum. 'Is the hole a fraction smaller than it'd been a minute earlier?' I ask myself hopefully, 'And the colour a fraction less angry?' She holds the finger out towards me, asking, "Wanna taste? Your spunk tastes really good mixed with mine." Somewhat desultorily, I open my mouth and let her put her finger in it. I don't know it at the time, but taking that taste would stand me in good stead with the girls over the years that followed. At not yet twelve years of age, my preconceptions had not yet hardened to the point where a spunk-filled fanny turned my stomach, and thanks to Annie's innocent offer, never would. She's right, the mix of boy and girl juices is delicious: Sweet and sour, with an earthy spiciness, and a faint coppery tang which at first I don't recognize, then suddenly realize is blood. Oh shit! The faint feeling of relief that I'd been experiencing is suddenly gone, replaced by a sudden anxiety that I'd done real internal damage, even if she didn't appear to be in any such distress. "Annie," I say gently, trying not to alarm her, "lie back again, will you? I want to take a better look." "O.K.," she agrees easily, draping herself back over the cushions and propping herself up on her elbows to watch me. I hunker down between her widespread legs and gently peel her fanny lips apart. They really are losing that angry colour, and the hole inside is definitely smaller. I start to feel that I might get away with it, and then another pink-tinged bubble of spunk oozes out, and I go cold all over again. A close inspection of the outside of her fanny reveals no cuts or scrapes which might have been the source of the blood. One good thing is that the red colour is like a blush, and not the result of friction, and it continues to fade even as I look. The lips too are shrinking back to the size I remember they were. But this hasn't located the source of the blood, even if there doesn't appear to be any fresh blood appearing. Very gently, I place my finger at the opening leading up inside her body and slowly push it in. Everything is fine until I get to about the same point where that barrier had previously blocked me, and then she lets out a quiet yelp of discomfort. Saying sorry, I remove my finger, and look at it. There, right on the tip, is a tiny dark fleck of half-coagulated blood, and I realize that this must be the source. Suddenly it all comes together, the barrier, the jokes, the blood. This was normal if the jokes were to be believed, and the surprising thing was how little there actually was. Grinning with relief, I lean forwards and plant a resounding kiss on her upturned little mound, swiping it with my tongue to get at more of the delicious cocktail. Squealing, Annie grabs the back of my head and pulls me against herself, only to let go with a soft yelp of pain. "Ouch!" "Sorry," I mumble, sitting back on my heels. "I think we'd better call it a day and get you into the bath." "Can we do it again tomorrow?" she asks. "Let's wait and see how you feel," I say. "You might still be a bit sore." "O.K.," she chips brightly, then winces slightly as she scrambles to her feet. "You O.K.?" I ask. "Uh-huh," she nods, "It hurts heaps more when Mummy spanks me." "That's good," I say, then hastily try to correct myself, "Uh, I mean...." She giggles. "I know." Then, still giggling, she makes a production of her trip to the bathroom, punctuating each step with an "Ouch," "Ooch," or "Eech." About halfway down the hall, she stops with a giggling, "It's dripping down my legs." Assuming one of those impossible poses, she cleans each thigh with the side of a finger and sucks on one while holding out the other towards me. "Yumm!" Then, while I start the water running into the bath, she climbs up onto the toilet and starts to pee. Curious, I turn to look between her legs, only to hear her shriek with embarrassment as she slams her knees together. With a red face, she looks up at me, obviously ready to tick me off. Suddenly, she giggles, saying, "That was silly, wasn't it?" "Maybe a little bit," I giggle back, "but I won't look if you don't want me to." "You can watch me if I can watch you," she bargains. "O.K.," I agree. Still pink-faced, she slowly parts her legs, and after a few seconds, resumes peeing into the bowl. The thickness of her stream surprises me considerably, since I've only ever seen other boys peeing before this. However, it does clear up one mystery. How my mother can be so noisy when she pees. The thick, straw-colored rope of urine hisses noisily against the front of the bowl for only a few seconds before petering out into a little dribble and a final spurt. Annie then takes a wad of paper from the roll, lightly pats her little fanny dry, and drops the soiled paper into the bowl. "O.K. It's your turn," she grins up at me, hopping down from the seat. "You do wees standing up?" she squeals in surprise as I lift the seat and take aim at the water below. "Yeah," I say, "All boys do." "Oh," she murmurs. Then impatiently: "Hurry up then." "Hang on a sec," I laugh, "It's coming." It takes several seconds, and when I finally do get it going, she squeals with delight. "Wow, that's neat! Let me hold it." I have to tell her, "Don't squeeze it," when she takes hold, and then she giggles so much that she can barely keep it inside the confines of the bowl.After several seconds, though, she gets herself and my stream under control, and still giggling, she paints noughts and crosses in the bowl. The expression on her face becomes more and more thunderstruck as my piss goes on and on and on, lasting five or six times as long as hers had. "Wow! You did a *big* wee," she breathes once I finally finish with a final two spurts, and take my dick from her hand to give it the obligatory three shakes. "I suppose," I say, blushing modestly since it's only been in the last couple of months I've been able to manage a man-sized piss. A few minutes, and fiddling with the taps later, Annie pronounces the water "Just right," and with my help, clambers into the bath. Hissing, she lowers her sore little fanny into the gently steaming water and gingerly settles to the bottom. "You get in too," she instructs me. "Okay," I agree, "but you have to be careful not to get my hair wet." "I know," she nods. We take turns washing each other, being very careful with sore dicks and fannies. To my great relief, Annie's little cunt almost looks normal by the time we've finished, and with only a little luck, Mrs Brownlow shouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary, even if she does see it that night. While I'm washing her hair, Annie asks me, "Is fucking really bad, Kris?" "What do you mean?" I ask, stalling for time and wanting to be sure of exactly what she means. "I mean, it's heaps and heaps of fun," she says, "and it feels really good, but Mummy'd be really mad if she found out, wouldn't she? How come?" "Yeah, she would be mad," I admit. "My mum would be too. Grownups just don't think kids like us should fuck." "How come?" she asks. "I don't know really," I admit. "Grownups are just like that, I guess. They're always saying we shouldn't do fun things." "Yeah," she nods sagely, "so we better not tell any grownups, huh?" "We can't tell *anyone*," I say. "It's gotta be a secret for just us two, okay?" "Okay," she nods. "Because other kids might tell, right?" "Right," I agree, as I scoop up a bucket of water to rinse her hair. "Head back." She tilts her head back for me and continues talking. "But isn't Mummy gonna find out when I have a baby?" It's a good thing I'm sitting down, or I very quickly would be. "You're not going to have a baby," I quickly say. "How come?" she asks, twisting to face me and cracking one eye open. "You squirted heaps of spunk in me." "You're not old enough to have a baby," I tell her. "You've got to have boobs and hair on your fanny before you can have a baby." "Oh," she murmurs disappointedly. "I really wanted one." Eagerly, she adds, "Will you make one in me when I'm big enough?" "Uh," I say, "let's wait and see, it'll be a long, long time before you're ready to have a baby." "Okay," she agrees. As soon as I've finished drying her, Annie leaves me alone in the bathroom, presumably to get some clothes on. However, when I emerge a few minutes later to get my own clothes from the lounge, I find her, still naked, carefully pouring Coke from a glass onto the dress and vest she'd been wearing. "What are you doing that for?" I ask in confusion. "So Mummy knows why I had to take a barf," she says, as if pointing out the obvious. "Oh, yeah," I nod. "Well, you'd better put them in the bathroom, because that's where you would have taken them off. Take your knickers too, and bring back some clean clothes and your hairbrush." "Okay." While she's gone, I begin to dress, and as I do so, I realize that there's an unusual smell in the room, which I guess is caused by our fucking. So despite the late winter chill, I open all the windows to get rid of it. Luckily the cushions are vinyl, and a few swipes with a cloth while I shove the cushions back into place are all it takes to return the room to something like it should be. I help Annie into the clothes she brings out for me, and while I'm working the brush through her hair, we discuss our story and get it straight, so that when Mrs Brownlow lets herself in through the front door a couple of hours later, Annie jumps to her feet and rushes to greet her mother. "Mummy," she yells at the top of her lungs, "Kris spilled a whole glass of Coke on my head and I had to have a bath." "Did he now?" Mrs Brownlow asks, sounding not quite pleased. She comes into the lounge where I'm pretending to watch TV, and when I turn guiltily towards her, she asks, "How did you manage to do that?" "I'm really sorry, Mrs Brownlow," I stammer, "I guess I slipped on that rug," I point, "and Annie was sitting there watching TV, and it just went all over her." "Well, these things happen," she says sympathetically. "Just be a little more careful next time." "Oh, I will," I say sincerely. "It took ages to clean up." "Well, consider that your punishment," she chuckles. "What did you do with her dirty clothes?" "I left them in the bathroom," I admit guiltily. "Just like a boy," she grumbles. "You should have put them in some water to soak." "I'm sorry," I apologize. "I'll do that next time." "Next time?" she asks, eyebrow raised. "Uh, um..." I falter, as she chuckles. "I know what you mean," she says kindly. "I don't suppose there's any harm done." "Mummy?" Annie asks, "Can Kris give me my bath every night? He doesn't pull my hair like you do." "I'm not sure that's such a-" "Please, Mummy?" Annie interrupts, looking up at her mother beseechingly. "But Kris might not-" Annie interrupts again, "He doesn't mind. Do you, Kris?" "It's better than Tellytubbies," I grumble, trying to sound like a twelve-year-old who's being put upon. Mrs Brownlow laughs at this. "Another two days and you'll think the dentist's better than Tellytubbies. Actually, would you mind too much? And would it be too much to ask for you to look after her until seven too? It's just that I've got a chance to do some overtime and earn a little more money." "I, uh..." my head snaps around when I'm offered this opportunity to extend our fucking time by two hours. Mrs Brownlow misinterprets my expression and hastens to say, "I'll pay you an extra five dollars a day, and I won't tell your mother about it either, so you can spend it any way you like." She chuckles at my widening eyes. "I thought that might make a difference. So will you do it?" "Yeah, okay," I reply, trying to strike the right balance between enthusiasm for the extra five bucks and hard done by, for having to spend another two hours a day with a Tellytubbie addict. "I tell you what," she says, "I know this is messing up your holidays, so since tomorrow looks like rain, why don't you ask that friend of yours who's got a little sister about Annie's age to come around and keep you company. He can bring his sister with him, and she can keep Annie company while you and your friend can do something more suited to your own age. I'll even get you a few nibbles and things." If she'd made the offer a few hours earlier, I would have been over the moon about it, but the company would seriously screw up any chance of fucking Annie the next day. But it would only be a day or two, and I sort of had the idea that Annie might be too sore the next day anyway, so I agreed as enthusiastically as I could. "Okay, well, that's settled," Mrs Brownlow says, not noticing my slight hesitation. "We'll see you in the morning." She reaches into her purse and pulls out a five-dollar note. "Here, consider it compensation for too much Tellytubbies, get yourself a video or something." Maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad job after all. I take the steps in a single bound and jog, whistling, up the street to the corner. I might even manage to get a few kicks in before tea.

Collections/SirSnuffHorrid/Clayton/Clayton's Kids - Poony Toons.txt

Leo

Lilith I - Lilith Beach Fest (Part 1)

'They call it the Lilith Fest, but it's really not, you know,' Brooke commented as the two of them walked towards the beach from the luxury house still visible behind them. 'It's really the Lilith Quarterly Beach Festival.' Lorna, her companion, replied, 'That seems a mouthful. I can certainly understand how it got shortened.' Lorna, like Brooke, was nude, lacking even jewelry. The sole difference in their appearance, with the exception of hair and body type, was the fact that Lorna's pubic area was totally shaved. The lack of hair didn't bother her. She was used to removing almost all of it for photo shoots, part of being a figure model. The fact that she was about to become a candidate member of the Society of Lilith did excite her, though. Even the requirement that she undergo a complete enema as well as fast for total purification didn't even bother her. Everyone that counted knew of the Society of Lilith, an underground power organization solely for women. The rumor was membership just about guaranteed career success and everything that went with it. She shot a quick glance at Brooke as the woman walked next to her. About five feet eight inches or so, but with a true swimsuit model's hard body, she had full breasts with a nice bounce to them, a perfect bottom and legs that seemed to go on forever. Lorna was envious, especially since her own much shorter form stopped just short of zaftig plump, even if she did have a reasonably flat belly. Her own full breasts tended to waggle and her buttocks jiggle as she walked, but she wasn't really overfleshed anywhere, just very meaty. It still amazed her that she was able to attract the attention of a famous TV personality like Brooke, much less become her lover for the last few weeks. That affair had led to her invitation to the Lilith Fest on a private Caribbean island. Lorna didn't really know what was entailed, only that they were going to an all-girl beach cookout where no clothing was allowed. Presumably, sex was going to enter into the picture, and that also excited Lorna. As they came around a grove of trees, Lorna stopped short and gazed eagerly at the scene in front of her. There were naked women everywhere, about forty she guessed, walking, talking, or enjoying the beach. Many of the women were athletically well-built, like Brooke, but a smaller number had her own full-bodied look. Great! At least she wouldn't be the only cushiony type at the party! Brooke paused for a moment to examine the woman she'd brought with her. Getting Lorna to the Fest was almost too easy, she thought, then smiled. Those plump smooth buttocks and full thighs were worth the effort. There was a lot of good meat on the girl, probably very well marbled with tasty fat. If Brooke decided to roast her, she was going to make a fine meal. Those buttocks looked like they would slice like butter, and she already knew Lorna's pussy was exquisitely tasty, with plump outer lips and a nice portion of tender flesh surrounding it. Giving the girl's ass a closer examination, she reminded herself she hadn't tried out her strap-on in it yet. Given that Lorna was a hell of a good ride, noisy and lively with anything approaching normal sex and the fact that most girls got a whole lot more active once they got used to taking it in the bottom, the prospective experience promised to be memorable. Be a pity to have those beautiful meaty buttocks on her plate before they were wrapped around her favorite rubber shaft. Brooke could just imagine slapping those plump cheeks with her hips. She was certainly going to have to do it before Lorna was roasted, if chosen. Since Brooke, herself, chose the girls to be cooked for the Fest, there was a very high probability Lorna was going on a cooking spit in a few hours. On the other hand, any candidate member at the Fest was liable for roasting, so best wait and judge what was available. Meanwhile, Lorna was standing there excited, clearly unable to decide what to do next. Brooke reached over and gave Lorna's full butt a little swat, letting her hand rest on the plump cheek for a few seconds, hefting it to judge meat quality. 'Come on, Lorna,' she said, 'planning to stand there all day?' Lorna grinned at her. 'Oh, this is exciting! Where do we go? What do we do first?' Brooke smiled back calmly. 'Well, first thing is to find ourselves a place on the beach, then I'll introduce you around.' As they walked down the beach, Lorna caught sight of a group of large barbecue sites, with oversized spits resting between motorized stands. The sites showed evidence of frequent use. In fact, one was already going. Several of the women were busily emptying bags of charcoal into the others. Something was going to be cooked for the festival. Looking around further at the cook tables near the pits and other strange frameworks scattered here and there, Lorna asked curiously, 'What are they going to cook? Those things look big enough to roast an ox, but I don't see any meat here.' Spreading a large beach blanket on the sand and motioning Lorna down next to her, Brooke sat, tenderly holding Lorna's wrist as the girl sat down. 'We don't roast oxen for the Fest, Lorna. What we cook is ever so much better, and tastes great, too.' Lorna looked at her in puzzlement. 'What?' Brooke swept her free hand to encompass the whole large group of women. 'Four of those. Volunteers, if someone wants to do it, otherwise I choose the girls from the candidate members. It's all part of the Beach Festival.' Shock swept through Lorna. 'You COOK women?! And EAT them?!' Brooke nodded with another of her calm smiles, and it suddenly dawned on Lorna why Brooke was holding her wrist. She couldn't move as she looked into the other woman's eyes. It was like staring into the eyes of a hungry predator only feet away. She was frozen with shock at what her brain was telling her. It happened and it was even legal, now. She knew it intellectually, but this was her first time as a direct participant. Another awful suspicion blossomed. Was that why she... 'You're going to eat me! Aren't you? That's why you brought me!' Brooke shrugged. 'Maybe. Oh, I brought you because you look, and taste, I might add, delicious, but cooking you isn't a sure thing. Only four girls get cooked and there are already two volunteers, so you have a good chance of missing out on the experience unless you decide to volunteer. 'It's part of belonging to the Society of Lilith,' she explained, relaxing as Lorna started listening. 'Every candidate member in the Society takes that chance at their first four Festivals. It's part of belonging. You might get chosen. You might not. It's the chance you take, we all take, for success and fortune.' Lorna's brain got over its shock as she stared at her lover, a lover that was now horrifyingly transformed into something that wanted to feast on her body. Wait a minute. They cooked four girls and there were already two volunteers. Volunteers? To be roasted? That was a hell of a thing to volunteer for. There had to be more to this than just butchering and eating. Still, there were only two slots left to be filled and an unknown number of candidate members to fill them. The odds were a little better. Then another horrid thought crossed her mind. She looked down at her curvy naked body, then around at the other full-figured women that were mixed into the group. 'I bet you don't choose the skinny ones,' she said bitterly. 'Who does the choosing? Is that why there are other girls built like me here?' Brooke relaxed her grasp on Lorna's wrist. She wasn't going to run now. 'I do the choosing. I'm the president. But, to answer your first question, I occasionally choose a girl with less meat than you, if she's of good quality. A few of the full-bodied ones out there are full members, because they've been through the process four times and someone else was chosen, for luck or some other reason. If a girl has her pussy hair, she's exempt from the spit.' 'Why would anyone volunteer?' Brooke looked around for someone. Then, seeing who she wanted, she started to get up. 'We're going to be preparing our first volunteer in a few minutes, for cutlets, stuffing and snacks. I think you should meet her. Come on with me.' Still tense, but curiosity beginning to overcome her horror, Lorna got up and followed Brooke towards a pair of girls that were standing near one of the tables by the active cooking pit. As she walked, she noticed another full-bodied girl with long black hair standing with several other girls nearby. It took her a second for her brain to get in gear, then she realized she was looking at Marie al-Salah, another model she'd worked with on a girl-girl shoot several months ago. Marie also looked uncomfortable, and the reason was obvious. An athletically muscled, slightly stocky brunette was running her hands over Marie's body, accompanying her liberties with a running commentary. From the look on the aggressor's face, she was being nasty about what she said. Whatever it was, Marie was showing signs of real fear. 'Hi, I'm Karen.It took a moment, and a glance at the outstretched hand, to realize one of the women in the group by the pit was greeting her. Karen was slender with long auburn hair, gracefully long-necked, and had a classically beautiful face. She also had a magnificent set of breasts and a proud, superbly curved bottom. Another look told Lorna the breasts were too magnificent. At least her own were home-grown, not surgical. Oddly, the catty little thought made her relax. 'Hi, Karen. I'm Lorna.' As they shook hands, Brooke commented, 'Lorna wanted to meet a volunteer for roasting. I saw them getting ready to prepare you, Karen, so I brought her over.' Lorna was shocked again. 'Karen? You? W...w...why?!' Karen's smile was gently melancholy. 'Oh, I've been to the edge here so many times. Even though I'm exempt, it just seemed the right time to go over it.' 'Been to the edge?' Karen examined Lorna's naked body critically. 'You look delicious, by the way. You'd better get used to girls telling you that. It's really a compliment here at a Fest. 'I imagine someone, Brooke probably, will show you what I mean if you aren't chosen for real roasting, but the answer's simple. We can use a two-part spit and just cook you enough over the coals that you get the full feeling of being cooked, but you come off sweaty, a little delirious, and with the juiciest pussy anyone's ever tasted. The cook gets to munch on you, and I've never had orgasms like that! After so many test rides plus the rush each time I survived the choosing, I decided to do it for real. Watching a girl rotate on a spit is one of the most intensely sexual sights you can imagine, and I wanted to be the centerpiece for everyone's fantasies.' Catching Lorna's shocked expression, she put a tender hand on her arm. 'Hey, it's not that bad. We've all got to go, sometime, and I'm going at the top of my game. I get to choose how, when and where, and when the heat finally gets me, I'll be so out of my head with delirium and really massive orgasms that I won't really care. Believe me, I know what I'm doing. Please, do me a favor and watch. You may not think so, but you'll really enjoy it.' Lorna looked uncertainly at her, then at Brooke, who was showing nothing but relaxed calm. 'Well, I guess...' At that moment, the mood was shattered by a scream. It was Marie. 'You're going to EAT ME!' She screamed again, and began to run. Before she was able to take more than a few steps, four or five women swarmed over her and wrestled her to the ground. Another girl brought an armload of items that turned out to be two sets of leather cuffs and a ball gag. Lorna watched tensely as they forced the ball gag into the still-screaming woman's mouth, then cuffed her ankles and wrists. 'DAMN!' The voice was Brooke's, and she sounded enraged. 'That was uncalled for. Now we'll have to cook her, regardless of whoever else gets chosen. We can't let her go, now. She'll never be able to get into the group, and I can't let her run loose to spread panicky tales. Who got her so worked up?' A tall, vaguely Central European beauty standing next to Karen answered, 'It was Jennifer. I was watching, and she teased the poor girl so much she pushed her right off the edge.' 'And onto a cooking spit,' Brooke continued grimly. 'That isn't the way we do things. Jennifer's another candidate, but I'm beginning to think her invitation was a mistake. Nobody here has the right to torment anyone, especially a candidate.' Looking at the sadistic smile Jennifer was directing at Marie, Lorna had to silently support Brooke's attitude. She was still scared of what might happen, but at least nobody was trying to be cruel about cooking her. 'I'm going to remember that young lady,' Brooke said grimly, her set face adding menace to the promise. They all continued to watch as Marie was picked up and carried over to a tall stool with a long, greased wooden prong sticking out of the seat. Carefully, she was sat down on the stool with the wooden prong sliding up her pussy until it was fully inserted. After the wriggling, squealing girl was impaled, another woman leaned under the stool and inserted another lubricated wooden prong upward so that it was inserted through the seat and all the way into her ass. As that happened, Marie's face showed a shocked, wild-eyed expression and the volume on the squeals increased. Lorna saw that Marie's double impalement completely locked her in place, unable to move off her seat. Then she realized that, despite the wrestling match, nobody hurt or mistreated the terrified girl. They were just holding her in place until... Lorna looked Brooke square in the eye. 'She's going to be number three, isn't she?' Brooke nodded. 'That's NOT how we do things, but she's seen too much. If I just let her go, there'll be no end of trouble as a result. She looks good, and I might have chosen her anyway, but I DON'T like having my hand forced like that. I would much rather everyone understand what is happening before I make a choice.' Lorna looked back at Marie, surrounded by a curious crowd of women, and said quietly, 'Once we're here, there's no getting out. You either get cooked or you eat someone and come back to take your chances again.' Brooke, still glaring at Jennifer, replied calmly, 'Basically, you're right. The Society helps its own, and has a good track record of success. Move around and meet some of the women here, and you'll see what I mean. We've made millionaires out of many of our full members. The possibility of riding one of those spits is the chance you take for that success.' Lorna looked at Brooke and thought hard. There were two choices: Fight the program and end up like Marie or go with the flow and take her chances. Best to become a convert. If things worked in her favor, and, after all, there was only one barbecue pit left unreserved, she stood to gain a hell of a lot. Musing at the way Brooke was still glaring at Jennifer, Lorna decided there was nothing wrong with helping her odds a little. How to do it? 'I think Jennifer and I need to have a talk,' Brooke snarled. She marched up to the other woman and, grabbing her arm, pulled her away from the crowd around Marie. Then she proceeded to get in her face. After a second, it was obvious that Brooke was doing all the talking and Jennifer had no desire to interrupt. Karen, observing the scene, commented, 'Well, I think that's about to be settled. I'm sorry that happened with Marie. It sort of spoils the mood, but I think it's about time to get back on track. Do you want to help season me?' Lorna was slightly taken aback by the offer, then remembered her resolution to become part of the group. 'Well... Yes, I'll be glad to. What do I do?' Just then, another woman joined the group. She was in her early thirties, long brown hair, heart-shaped face and a nicely rounded figure. Lorna took note that the girl still had her pubic hair. Full member and a survivor. A second glance brought a surprise. She was the star of that old TV series! Only been on two or three things since, but still high on the B list. 'Hi, Carol,' Karen greeted her. 'I'm ready. Adrienne and Lorna, here, are going to help.' Carol smiled brilliantly at Lorna. 'Hi. Welcome to your first Beach Fest. I'm Carol.' Lorna nodded. 'What do I do to help?' 'I'll be glad to tell you what we're doing while we do it. I'm the Society's cook, by the way. Let's get Karen seasoned, then I'll let you help me get her spitted. 'What we're going to do first,' Carol explained, 'is thoroughly cover Karen with olive oil, seasoned with spices. We have to totally cover her body to keep her from singeing anywhere, and the spices cook into the flesh. Once she's oiled, we can put the spit in her. Where do you want it, honey?' The last was to Karen. 'Oh,' Karen smiled, 'I think I want it in my pussy. I've always liked that when I rode the two-part spits and it ought to be the ultimate fuck. I'll be able to stretch out straight, so it will do a good job cooking my bottom, too.' Lorna was amazed at Karen's relaxed attitude toward being cooked, but kept the thought quietly to herself. Hm, wonder if she could ask a question she was getting curious about, after all she was a new convert and Karen seemed matter-of-fact about the whole prospect of roasting... 'You guys are talking about where to put the spit. Other than where you like it, what's the difference? What's the best meat on a girl, anyhow?' Karen answered the first question. 'Putting a spit in your pussy tends to allow you to get a more even roasting, because you have to flex a little if the shaft is up your bottom. Also, when you have the spit up your ass, it throws your pussy forward so it cooks more readily than it would clasped around the spit. A lot of girls like to ride a two-part spit with it up their asses during role-play roasting, because it's easier to baste your pussy while you're cooking and that's a fantastic feeling, but I want to stretch out for the real thing.' Carol answered her second question. 'Most of the good meat on a woman is from the waist down. A girl's upper body usually isn't very muscular, so there's not much meat compared to, say, the hips.' Carol walked over and began running her hands over Karen's naked body to illustrate her points. She gave a squeeze to Karen's prominent breasts. 'Breasts aren't very meaty, mostly fat and glands, but very rich if prepared right. We'll take the silicone gel pacs out of Karen's breasts after she comes off the spit, then use the rest to add flavor to the stuffing I'll prepare for the other three girls. Right here above the hips is a good cut, very tender. Her belly is very muscular, good meat, but it's best used for bacon or prepared like corned beef.We'd normally slice her hips and buttocks into steaks along with the thighs, but I'll be making sliced cuts for the lunch buffet instead. We call the pussy the prime filet, and it is. Adrienne broke in, 'I've got dibs on that.' Karen grinned at her friend. Carol squeezed one of Karen's inner thighs, just below the groin, and used her other hand to do the same for the central portion of one of Karen's prominent buttocks. 'These parts are the most tender cuts. Get one off one of the other whole roasters, if you get the chance.' She examined Lorna's hip area with a critical eye. 'The way you're built, honey, you've got plenty of good meat in the right spots. Just one slice off the good part of your rump would feed someone a full meal. Believe me, that's wonderful.' Lorna made a face. 'Thanks, I think.' The other three women grinned. 'Come on,' Carol said, 'let's get Karen seasoned and on the spit.' Karen got up on the table on her elbows and knees, while Lorna and the other two grabbed plastic squeeze bottles from the table. The routine was to squeeze some oil onto the meat, then rub it in, something everyone including Karen enjoyed. 'Remember to cover everything,' Carol told her. 'Get some between her cheeks and plenty on her pussy.' 'Oh, yes,' Karen moaned as Lorna followed Carol's instructions. 'Everyone make sure to season me there. This is beginning to drive me wild.' Adrienne laughed, then followed Lorna in coating the intimate parts, giving her friend a far more sexually applied coating of oil, inside as well as out, and bringing on Karen's first orgasm. Lorna was beginning to look on preparing and cooking Karen as exciting, and she suspected that wasn't going to be the girl's last orgasm, either. Karen turned on her side on the table and drew up her legs as Carol and Adrienne brought the spit. 'Ventilated, so she can breathe,' Carol commented as they carefully lined it up with Karen's cunt. As they inserted it into Karen, she began convulsing in another series of orgasms, her pussy clasping on the lubricated shaft as it slid up inside her. Watching with wide eyes, Lorna gently stroked Karen's flank as the shaft disappeared into her body. Adrienne came around to steady her friend's head as the point of the spit emerged from her mouth. Once Karen was well on the spit, a businesslike Carol used cooking twine to bind her wrists and legs to the spit. Taking some more twine, she bound Karen's large breasts together. 'Keep 'em from flopping around,' she explained briskly. The three women gently lifted the spitted girl and placed her on the stand. Carol swung the assembly so Karen was over the coals, then stood back to admire her handiwork. Lorna was also admiring Karen as she began to rotate over the coals, writhing and squirming from what Lorna was sure was more sexual excitement than the heat. To her surprise, Lorna found herself reacting to the picture of the slowly roasting girl. She checked herself with a finger and confirmed it. She was getting wet watching a beautiful woman cooking. Glancing at Adrienne, she saw the tall beauty was doing more than checking herself, she was gently stroking. 'Oh, yeah, baby,' Adrienne said softly, 'we're going to do this together. I'm going to come right along with you, as long as we can.' Carol put a hand on Lorna's shoulder. 'Let's leave them,' she said softly. 'I've got her high over the heat for a while, until she numbs, then I'll drop the spit so she can really begin cooking.' Looking around, Lorna saw the cooking pit was now the center of attention, but everyone was backed off, giving Karen and Adrienne space. Walking away with Carol, she asked, 'How long will it take for Karen to cook?' Carol replied, 'Oh, I won't roast her all the way. Once heat stroke gets her, I'll take her off the spit, butcher her, cook what I need for lunch over the grill, then put the rest in the cooler for tomorrow. I'm going to do that with one of the other girls, too. Even with a group this size, we only need two women, so I'll only fully roast two. We'll have the rest on the beach for the second day of the Fest.' She looked at Lorna. 'To answer your original question, about four hours. That means Brooke's going to choose the last girl for the spit in about three hours. That way we can eat about sundown. 'Meanwhile,' she continued with a smile, 'you can lay out in the sun, join one of the games, or get laid as many times as you can before Brooke calls everyone together to pick the last roaster.' She waved a hand to indicate the large number of couples, or threesomes, that were having sex openly on beach blankets among the group. No need to be shy in a crowd where everyone was nude, and they were all going to be literally eating several of these women in a little while. The sex option sounded good to Lorna. Looking around at the array of naked women on the beach, she could see quite a few that she'd love to stroke and play with. Plenty of tasty pussies. The last thought made her grimace for an instant, given the fact that a tasty pussy meant more than one thing to these women. Still, she thought fatalistically, she was either going to be providing someone, probably Brooke, with a cooked pussy or be able to enjoy an uncooked one or two for herself, and pussy served on a live girl was one of her favorite dishes. She spent a few more moments enjoying the lovely and sexually exciting spectacle of Karen as she slow cooked over the coals. The woman's body was a sculpture, glistening with oil and perspiration, and the sight held her entranced for a while. As she turned away, she decided she had to find someone to satisfy that tingling between her thighs. Scanning the beach, she caught sight of Marie, who was now staring at Karen as she cooked. Lorna knew what was going through her mind. In fact, it could well be here, bound and impaled on a stool, instead of that girl. Besides, they'd gotten friendly at that photo shoot a while back. Very friendly, in fact. There was something she had to do before finding someone to scratch her itch. She approached the girl, and could tell by the way her eyes widened when they caught sight of her that Marie remembered her. 'Hi, Marie,' she said and caressed her softly on an arm. 'I'm sorry this had to happen to you, honey. I'm afraid it's going to happen to me in a few hours, but there's nothing I can do about either one of us now.' Marie dropped her eyes and nodded forlornly. She knew what was going to happen to her and accepted the fact. She seemed much more settled, now. It appeared the panic attack was over. 'That gag can't be comfortable,' Lorna said with sudden decision. 'I'm going to ask someone if I can remove it. Will you promise not to scream?' Marie nodded again, holding Lorna's face with her eyes. Lorna suddenly remembered something about Marie, her ultra sensitive breasts. Maybe there was something else she could do for the girl besides take out her gag. Leaning over, she kissed Marie tenderly on the cheek. 'Look,' she said softly,' I'm going to try something and I want you to help me. If it works, you'll feel better and I'll see if they let me take out the gag. Okay?' Marie nodded. Her expression was still hopeless, but she was curious about what Lorna was going to do. Lorna began delicately stroking the outside of the seated girl's bare thighs, gradually shifting until her fingertips roamed up and down the inner thighs. Lorna could hear the quick intake of breath as her fingers got closer to Marie's groin. Good enough. Now for the next stage. She gradually began to work her hands further up Marie's body, constantly caressing, until she settled on her breasts. Then she began stroking, ever so gently from the base of the big globes out to the nipples. She was rewarded when Marie let out with a low moan, muffled by her gag. 'Open your knees as much as you can, honey,' she said. Marie complied, awkward with her cuffed ankles, but enough for Lorna to slide one hand down and begin stroking her clitoris, feeling the wooden shaft imbedded in the girl's pussy. It wasn't long before Marie's eyes rolled back and Lorna was rewarded with a rapid series of muffled gasps, ending in a long, drawn out moan. Once the girl had finished, Lorna kissed her gently on the cheek again. 'There, baby, I'll go see what I can do about that gag.' 'You can take it out,' a voice said behind her. Lorna turned towards the speaker and saw possibly the most voluptuous woman she'd ever seen in the flesh. The woman had a beautiful figure, but more of one than any other beautiful girl Lorna ever knew existed. Right then, she decided she was going to be rolling on a beach blanket with this beauty in the not too distant future. Looking at Lorna, the woman leaned over and removed the gag from Marie's mouth. 'That was nice, what you did,' she commented. 'I like the way you were thinking of her. I'm Vivian, by the way.' Lorna smiled. 'I'm Lorna.' Vivian returned the smile, then turned to Marie. 'There, is that better?' Marie nodded. 'Thank you. Uh... Would it be possible for me to get up? These things are really stretching me.' Vivian shook her head slowly. 'No, sorry. You have to stay cuffed and seated. You'll be glad of the stretching in a few hours, when they go to insert the pole. It'll go in a lot easier if you are open and wet. They have to open you, anyway, when they go to stuff your butt, so it'll be easier there, too.' Waving at another woman next to one of the bar tables scattered around, Vivian commented, 'I'll have them bring you some wine. I know you're thirsty and it helps a lot if you're high when you're being prepared. Will that be all right with you?' Marie nodded again, back to being depressed. Vivian gave her an appraising look. 'It also helps if you're sexually excited.'"You might as well enjoy as much of the process as you can, even if you aren't a volunteer. I'll make sure everybody comes by and gives you a good stroking, girl. We'll see if we can't get you so excited and high you won't know what's happening." Marie smiled wanly, then took the full wineglass another woman handed her with both cuffed hands. As Lorna and Vivian walked away, Lorna could see the woman begin to stroke Marie's breasts and cunt, starting her towards another orgasm. "That's the best way to pass the time if you know you're going to be roasted," Vivian told her.

Part 1

Collections/SirSnuffHorrid/GourmetRestaurant/Lilith_I_(Part_1).txt

Zawackyj Zabum

Demoted Into Depravity

'Bondage is a strange and thrilling experience, Angela! That girl in the photo was once just like you...shy...modest...sweetly polite. She was born to serve! It gives her pleasure...profoundly deep satisfaction. She denied this for a long time, but in the end, she had to let the truth come out. It was just a matter of finding the right person to trust with her secret. You can trust me, Angela...I know what you're thinking. I know everything about how you think...I've seen it hundreds of times in girls just like you...' Angela was mesmerized by Shane's perverse lecture. She'd heard parts of it before from the time she began working for him, but now it all seemed to make some kind of surreal sense. There was no denying that she did have unusual dreams and fantasies, but she was confused by them. For the first time in her young life, Angela felt she was listening to somebody who could see right through the sweetly innocent facade she wore, and this alarmed her, though it also aroused her in the strangest possible way. 'Have a look at her, Angela. It's like a snapshot of your thoughts. I know it is...don't deny it. Right now, you're wishing that was you in the photograph...stripped naked and vulnerable, shackled and spread helpless at the mercy of a strong, powerful master...' Angela felt her stomach twist into a guilty knot. She shivered with a rash of goosebumps, blushing as her mind reeled with confusion. It was as if her boss was brainwashing her, but she couldn't do or say anything to stop him. She wanted to make some kind of feeble joke like she usually did to change the subject, but the words just wouldn't form in her mouth. Shane was moving close to her, talking calmly in a soothing, hypnotic tone which started to alarm Angela. Her hands trembled as she gawked at the image of the woman in the photo, her own clitoris throbbing in sympathy with the sensations she imagined the anonymous woman to be having. Never before would she have allowed somebody like Shane to touch her, especially in somewhere as public as his office, but it was as if he'd somehow invaded her conscience, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't evict him or prevent him from trapping her emotions. 'We've talked about this for long enough, Angela...it's time you faced the truth and followed your feelings. You don't have to do anything special...I'll teach you all you need to know, and you do need to be taught. You're never going to be completely happy unless you give in to me...it's what you need to do...admit it...' Angela just stood there facing Shane's desk. His hot breath on the back of her neck warmed her and almost relaxed her enough to feel comfortable with his hands roaming over her hips. It was a weird seduction. He'd done it without even touching her, and now it seemed like no ceremony was necessary to get her undressed. She felt a perverse urgency, secretly wanting him to simply tear the clothes from her body. Not to sensuously disrobe her, but to quickly and roughly strip her naked while she was feeling most vulnerable and powerless. It was like a hazy, erotic dream to the timid young blonde. Her modest dress-style had always been like a false shield which nobody had ever challenged, hiding the real Angela from the world. She knew that now as Shane's fingers grappled with the zipper of her skirt. He peeled it open with the ease of a sword slicing butter, Angela demurely accepting the defeat of her sensibilities and doing nothing to resist his conquering of her. Her skirt dropping to the floor around her ankles made her think of a flag falling for some reason, and it signaled the charge of Shane's mental army. Angela became completely oblivious to the sound of the world going about its business outside of Shane's office. She was unsure of whether he'd locked the door, but it no longer mattered when he hooked his fingers into the flimsy elastic of her undies and tugged them firmly to her ankles. Her eyes became unfocused on the photo in her hand, her soft blue eyes lolling deliriously as Shane started wrestling her blouse up over her head. A moment later, it was trapped over her head, and she felt him grappling with her bra, unhitching it and pulling at it until she almost lost her balance. The blouse needed to be unbuttoned before Angela could remove it, and she stumbled blindly for a minute, tripping out of her undies and sitting her bare buttocks against Shane's desk as she wriggled and squirmed in her tangled blouse. Angela hadn't wanted to help him strip her, but it had become necessary, and she dropped the photo while she fought the blouse and slackened bra off her arms. Shane was standing in front of her smirking and grinning wildly when she finally shed her blouse. His expression confused her, and he was holding out his hand to accept her discarded clothes. Angela meekly handed them to him and then blushed, realizing she was completely naked except for her shoes and that Shane was ogling her, gawking at her pert breasts and bushy pubic mound which were completely exposed. 'Yes,' said Shane, his dark eyes flashing deviously. 'I think you're ready to start learning a few lessons.' Angela felt alarmed by the sudden menacing tone of his voice and immediately covered her nude body defensively. 'What lessons?' she mumbled, feeling acutely aware of her nakedness when she asked. 'You'll see...get dressed!' Angela felt confused and stunned. She caught her clothes, which he'd thrown back at her, but saw that he intended keeping her underwear. She felt crushed with foolishness, as if she'd just been tricked into doing something totally embarrassing, and the hasty attempts to get back into her skirt and blouse only served to accentuate her humiliation. 'From now on...no underwear!' Shane said, picking up a large pair of scissors to slice her lacy underwear to shreds. 'Um...what are you doing?' Angela gasped, her eyes nearly popping out as she watched the expensive lace being quickly reduced to ribbons. She continued straightening her clothes, anxiously pressing the creases back into her pleated skirt when the room filled with the sound of knocking at the door. 'Come in...' Shane called, not waiting to check whether his blushing, dazed secretary was ready or not. 'That'll be all, Angela...go back to your desk...' The red-faced young blonde's face was frozen in an expression of dumbstruck confusion, and she avoided the puzzled stare of Shane's partner Karl as she walked briskly from the office. She was desperate to get to the bathroom at the end of the hall and take a few moments to regain her composure, but Karl's voice stopped her in her tracks. 'Angela...I want you to come back to the warehouse with me in a minute...' Karl said in his usual, gruff Teutonic tone. 'Wait there...I won't be a minute.' The timid blonde felt her world collapsing around her as she stood impatiently just outside the office door. None of the other girls in the outer office seemed aware of what had just happened, and nor did Karl. But there was something suspicious about the way he'd asked her to accompany him.The warehouse for Shane and Karl's shipping business was in the outer suburbs, and none of the city office girls ever went there. It was sort of like a Coventry place where the city secretaries were sent when their work performance was in question, and none ever returned. Nobody ever spoke about the place, but Angela sensed something foreboding. "Are you ready?" Karl said, startling Angela when he unexpectedly appeared behind her. "Um...yes..." she stuttered. "I'll just get my handbag..." The draft of the noisy ventilation system in the underground carpark seemed to blow straight up under Angela's clothes, reminding her that she was without her underwear. Even though her blouse was modest, her bare breasts jiggled provocatively as she walked beside Karl. His sideways glances at her, which she pretended not to notice, surely noticed the embarrassing bounce of her unrestrained breasts, and this made the young blonde feel like dying with shame. She knew what men thought of girls who went braless, and she wanted to explain that she wasn't the kind of girl he probably thought because of it. But obviously this was not an option. Karl was the senior partner in the firm, and his brand new Mercedes richly displayed this. Angela smiled faintly and thanked Karl when he held open the passenger's door for her, but she felt her skin crawl a bit when he seemed to pay her breasts more than gentlemanly interest as she sat. The seatbelt strapped tightly over her chest accentuated the smooth, unholstered shape of her breasts, and, to Angela's increasing unease, Karl clearly noticed this. Nothing was said as he drove up and around the ramps leading to the exit. It wasn't until he finally navigated his way back out into the throng of busy, mid-afternoon traffic that Karl spoke. "Do you like working for PDL Transport?" he asked. "Yes..." Angela replied, trying to ignore the feelings of nakedness she felt under her clothes. "How long have you been with us now?" "It will be two years November...I joined straight after university," Angela said, relaxing slightly at the informality. "University!" Karl said, sounding surprised. "Do you have to go to university these days to be a secretary, eh?" Angela felt a little insulted by the remark but didn't show it. "I studied for an Arts Degree...languages actually...but I didn't know what to do when I finished..." "What...so you thought you'd be a secretary until you made up your mind?" "I didn't mean it like that!" Angela quickly apologized, realizing she sounded like she was complaining about her job. "No...I love working as a secretary..." "Shane says you're a very competent one...he told me so!" Karl had a moment to stare and smile at her as he waited for the traffic lights to change color from red to green. "That's nice of him..." Angela blushed, not knowing how to receive the compliment properly in light of what Shane had just done to her. "Yes...he says you're a very clever young lady...that you'll go places in this firm..." "He does?" Angela contained her surprise enough not to sound totally incredulous. "Well...yes...I really enjoy working for him...he's a good boss." The lights changed, and Karl moved with the flow of traffic, not speaking again until he turned onto the freeway. "Enjoy working for him...that's good..." Karl chuckled softly. "Yes...he told me you're a good worker. Very co-operative. I like having an obedient staff." Angela felt a sudden rush of guilty panic at the way he said it. She knew he was hinting at something, and it filled her with dread. The car sped along the freeway, Angela staring out through the tinted glass at the quickly passing urban scenery. Again, there was a long silence. "Shane can be a bit strange at times, though," Karl said flatly. Angela's attention was immediately caught. "What do you mean?" she asked nervously. "You know!" Karl laughed heartily, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "You know...strange...unusual..." "I'm sorry Mr. van Hauer...I'm not sure I know what you mean..." the timid blonde tried to keep her nervous voice settled as she spoke. "That's good..." Karl said, sounding pleased with her response. "I beg your pardon?" Angela relaxed slightly. "You're discreet...I like that!" Angela felt her heart jump to her mouth when he winked and grinned at her. She was immediately convinced he knew what had just happened, but still there was no way of knowing for certain without running the risk of making a complete fool of herself. "If you mean..." "I mean you value privacy...and honesty..." Karl was still avoiding the point. "Yes...honesty is a virtue!" Angela kicked herself for rattling off the cliche. "A virtue..." Karl laughed a little. "That's a charming way of putting it, Angela." Angela sheepishly returned his smile. "But it's not strictly a virtue, you know?" The smile on Angela's innocent face quickly changed to a frown, and she squirmed discreetly in her seat. "No...there are seven virtues, and honesty is not one of them..." Karl sounded an authority on the matter. "Faith is a virtue...having faith that honesty will be rewarded...you could say it's related that way..." Angela felt uncomfortable with the discussion. She tried to look attentively at him but was afraid to make eye contact. "So when I said you valued discretion, I meant it's a two-way street. If you can be discreet...I can be discreet..." Angela couldn't bring herself to ask him what he meant, but she was forced to. "Put your hand in my pocket..." Karl winked at her, nodding to the hip pocket of his jacket. "Go on...it won't bite!" The young blonde felt extremely reluctant to comply, instinctively knowing there would be some kind of unpleasant surprise in store for her. But she cautiously reached over and slipped her hand into his pocket, feeling around inside it and pulling out a handful of cloth strips that made her gasp with fright. He had the remains of her underwear in his pocket, and her reaction of dread made the wicked old man laugh out loud. "What's the matter, Angela? You look like you've seen a ghost!" he teased. "I didn't believe it...Shane said it was yours!" Angela dropped the handful of shredded lace and rushed to put her hand over her shocked mouth. He'd tricked her, and she'd fallen into his trap. There'd be no way of denying that she wasn't wearing any underwear at all. He'd already noticed the absence of her bra, and it would be impossible now to convince him she had anything on under her skirt. For the second time in one day, Angela felt the burning rash of deep humiliation. "Relax Angela! You can trust me..." Karl said as he headed off the freeway and turned into the driveway of his warehouse. Angela knew his words were hollow. Seeing the dark-haired woman from the photo sitting behind the reception desk of his warehouse office had a more unsettling effect on her. The image of the woman, completely naked on the wire bed, arms and legs outstretched and shackled, came flooding back to the frightened young secretary's mind. She remembered the leather-jacketed man's arm holding some kind of brown stick and probing her defenselessly exposed slit. It was as if the image had been branded on Angela's memory. "Virginia...this is Angela," Karl said, smirking at the trembling young girl he'd brought to the office. "She's a pretty one...is this her first time?" the dark-haired woman's husky voice made her sound thoroughly evil to Angela. "I'm going to enjoy having her around..." "Virginia likes to welcome all the new girls...she's very special to this firm!" Karl suddenly lifted the front of Angela's modest skirt. Angela buckled over, shrieking loudly and frantically trying to push the old man's hands away. But it was too late. He'd already exposed the embarrassing truth of her missing underwear, and, after a short struggle with both Karl and Virginia, the timid blonde found herself completely naked. "Please..." Angela whimpered, trying to hide herself with her small hands as Virginia wrestled the shoes from her feet. "I don't understand what's going on..." "What's there to understand? You've been promoted out of the secretary pool to something much more highly regarded in this company!" Karl grumbled as he fought to pull the frantically struggling blonde's arms behind her back. Angela couldn't see how he could call it a promotion. She'd just been completely humiliated by both of them, and, from what she could tell, it was just the beginning. "What do you mean...highly regarded?" "You ask too many questions, Angela!" Virginia said, roughly pressing a red rubber ball into her open mouth and strapping it tightly in place to gag her. Angela's mouth filled with saliva, and she clamped her jaws on the rubber ball, desperately trying to scream but not being able to raise the necessary noise she was after. The gag was terrifyingly effective, preventing any of the hysterical protests she attempted. A moment later, and she felt her wrists being cuffed with thick, black leather straps which were shackled together behind her back. In less than a minute, Angela found herself standing totally nude, hands unable to hide her lewdly exposed nakedness, and her ankles manacled with leather bracelets that were surely intended for some bizarre imprisonment. "Feels good, doesn't it Angela?" Virginia smirked deviously as she cupped her warm hands around the naked blonde's unprotected breasts and began pinching at her swelling nipples. Angela shook her head vigorously in denial. "Yes it does...you can't lie to me!" Angela gasped, biting down hard on the rubber gag as the middle-aged woman painfully twisted her tender nipples. She tripped and stumbled as the woman unexpectedly began dragging her by the nipples from the office into the cavernous interior of the warehouse. "I'll take over from here, Karl," Virginia laughed, dragging the horrified young blonde away from him. "We'll see you in a minute inside..."The sight of a group of workmen gawking excitedly at her almost made Angela faint. It was only Virginia's painful grip on her stretched, tortured nipples that kept her on her feet, though the men quickly gathered around and grabbed hold of her to carry her to the far end of the warehouse floor. The terrified young secretary was practically in tears, twisting and struggling helplessly as the leather cuffs around her ankles were hitched to chains hanging from a winch above. The blood rushed to her head as the electric motor powering it whirred into life, dragging her widely spread feet towards the ceiling until her head was able to be lowered without touching the concrete floor. When the men finally released her, Angela struggled violently, but this merely made her swing around on the end of the chains, making her more dizzy. A minute or so later, she gave up, trying to focus her tear-filled eyes on the upside-down view of the group of wild-eyed onlookers. It was the most degrading, humiliating moment of her entire life, and, judging by the sinister-looking riding crop in Virginia's hand, it looked set to get even worse. 'Hurry up, Karl!' Virginia called loudly, her angry-sounding voice resounding in the warehouse. 'Tell him to hurry up, Angela!' The terrified blonde screamed silently through the gag as her bare, defenseless fleshy buttocks was suddenly stung sharply with the crop. She arched her back, struggling frantically to avoid the shower of painful lashes which began raining on her backside. The sadistic woman's taunts for her to call Karl had her sobbing dry tears of helplessness, unable to call for the perverted old man or stop the agonizing lashes to her bottom. The men standing around watching were goggle-eyed with perverse excitement as they watched the defenseless, naked blonde being thrashed mercilessly by Virginia. Angela could no longer see them through her tear-filled eyes, but she could feel their presence closing in around her and the sound of their voices crudely describing their delight at the kinky spectacle she provided. Karl's accented voice eventually broke over the animated noise of the workers, and Virginia stopped whipping her, leaving her to hang trembling and shaking with terrified agony. 'This is where the fun part begins, Angela,' Karl said, leaning down to talk directly into her tear-streaked face. 'You will be working here from now on...Virginia will be your boss, but any of these men will also be able to tell you what to do. You are to do whatever they ask...without question. Is that understood?' Angela hung limply in her restraints, her head fogged with confusion and not knowing what he was talking about. Still, she eventually nodded agreeably, and, as her 'reward', was forced to watch helplessly as each man in turn lined up to lash her defenseless slit with their tongues. It only took a second of the first man's energetic sucking and slurping on her clit to realize that the bizarre, humiliating abuse had made her clit hard and throbbing with surreal delight. The men were only allowed a minute or two each to 'introduce themselves', as Virginia had joked, and each man's approach was surprisingly different. All the while this was going on, Angela first sensed, then felt something happening behind her. The feeling of something smooth and cold slipping into the crater of her anus filled her with dread, but she couldn't concentrate beyond the perverse arousal being stirred by the procession of tongues on her clit. She realized Karl was about to penetrate her puckered anus with something, but the spasming muscles of her crotch made resistance futile, and, before she could flex her buttocks defensively, her ring slipped tautly around a film, slippery dildo. Angela arched her back, stretching and curling her toes as the blinding daze of an orgasm suddenly enveloped her. She moaned through the gag as the shaft slowly impaled her back passage, each burrowing inch of it setting off the tingling sensation of shitting until her whole bowel felt packed and solid. She couldn't think straight as the last of the men roughly nuzzled and slurped noisily on her throbbing clit. Their half-unshaven whiskers irritated the sensitive, unfurled channel of her slit, which, Angela felt sure, yawned obscenely open for all to see. It was a long time after Angela was released before she could think clearly about what had transpired that afternoon. Her ring felt stretched and damaged for many hours afterwards, but the worst was in her mind. The experience had liberated the timid, demure young blonde in some way she couldn't explain, and the next morning she found herself standing naked in front of Virginia's desk, waiting excitedly for the new day's instructions. Her life as a sex slave had begun.

M+/F nc Mdom bd-sm

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17631.txt

Chili Peeler

Sordid Conception - Part 7

'I did that....made Brenda come.' Sharon had sat back on her legs after Brenda's thighs had fallen open. Her fingers went to her lips as she continued to taste the tangy wetness that Brenda had produced. It was her first taste of womanly cum, and she found it almost as intoxicating as hard liquor. She wanted to tell Brenda how much she had enjoyed trying to give cunnilingus, experiencing it from the other side, but there would be time for that later because Brad gripped her arm and pulled her toward him. "I hope you're ready, Mom, because I'm gonna give it to you good," he said a little too loudly. Sharon realized he was announcing it to Brenda. So Brenda could watch what she and Brad had hidden from everyone else. Brenda rolled over toward them, raising herself up on her elbow, and Sharon saw the anticipation in her eyes...and the special extra in her eyes that was for her alone. Brad pulled her to him and then swung her upper body toward the far side of the bed, away from Brenda, as he let her gently down on her back. He lifted her left leg almost straight up in the air, swinging it past his chest and around his other side as he positioned himself over her. "Spread your legs...wider than that," Brad commanded her as he fisted his ready member and ran the wet head on her hair-matted mons. "Now pull them back like I like." He wanted her legs back toward her head, a position that they had both enjoyed frequently over the past 18 months. She knew he wanted them back now for another reason - to give Brenda, who still lay behind his son's feet, an unimpeded view of his hefty dick delving into her cunt. Turning into a full-fledged exhibitionist in the excitement of the moment, she bent her legs at the knees and tilted them back, her pelvis rolling up at her eager son. She could feel her labia opening up, exposing the slick inner lining of her sex slit and the mouth of her simmering quim. At least that was the view she imagined Brenda was getting. Her son didn't give Brenda a long, lingering gaze - he quickly leaned over her, fit the head of his prick into the entrance of her pussy and began pushing it down into her. "Man! You're fucking wet," Brad exclaimed as he buried himself balls-deep in her without any problem due to their position and her record-breaking lubrication level. His slab of cock filled her so beautifully. She could have looked for years in town for someone as satisfying as Brad but she knew she never would need to. Her baby would be there for her for years and years. The fact that both of them were in their sexual prime was not lost on her. It had always seemed like cruel fate that men and women matured so far apart. She wondered how many other women her age were bedding much younger men - and how many were their sons! Brad began slowly fucking her, pulling his cock almost all the way out before injecting it again deep in her itchy sheath. For once in his life, her son was taking his time - right when she wanted nothing more for him to pound her sex. She wanted to come in the worst way; a hard, energetic fucking was the quickest way there. But Brad continued to play to their watching bed mate. "Harder," she said very softly up at her son's leering face. It wasn't loud enough for Brenda to hear but her son wouldn't even spare her that little private exchange. "Sure, Mom," he said loudly, "But I want you to speak up some. I'm sure Brenda wants to hear what you want me to do to you." Waiting for her to comply, he pulled out until only his knob was still in her needy confines and then he let it hover there. 'Damn you, Brad,' she said to herself as her cheeks warmed in a blush. Painting herself as a horny slut in front of Brenda was not what she wanted but wasn't it really what she was? Summoning all the courage she could, she responded to her manipulative man-son. "I said do it harder!" she said in a voice so strong and confident that it surprised even herself. "Fuck me like a real man, Brad....fuck me hard!" "All you had to do was ask," Brad said with a chuckle before he drove himself strongly down into her splayed crotch, his balls slapping loudly against her ass as their pubic bones jarred together. Sharon let her face fall sideways on the bed as her virile son began hammering her lifted lap with powerful lunges. It was only the feeling of drool starting to seep from the corner of her mouth that brought Brenda out of her voyeuristic trance. The sight of incestuous cock and cunt working in a hot tandem was overpowering to watch. She swallowed quickly, never taking her eyes from the hot scene only a few feet away. Brad's fat prick was opening up his mother's furry slit obscenely and his thrusts were making the bed squeak underneath her. Sharon's pussy was dribbling clear juice which welled up or was deposited below her stuffed gash by Brad's driving member. That juice was running down over her mother-in-law's small, brown puckered anus, then disappearing further down her ass crack. Brenda began rubbing her own slick slit which now felt ready for more action. Her orgasm had left her as juicy as Sharon and she wondered if Brad would be able to fuck her as well in the session that was unfolding. She prepared herself for a letdown. He was probably going to get his rocks off with his mother and then things would probably settle down. 'But I can come back tomorrow for another baby-making try with Brad.....and the next day....and every day. I've got the perfect excuse since any session might get me pregnant...Sharon will understand.' Sharon was moaning now, every flesh-smacking fuck by Brad was being answered by hot sex squeals from her mother-in-law. She was working her way to an orgasm and Brenda wanted to do more than watch. Sharon had done something for her...she had joined in. She crawled past the two humping bodies on their right until she was almost laying beside Sharon. Brad was the first to register that she was there; his mother's face was laying on the bed looking the other way. "Like watching....uuhhh...me fuck her?" Brad said hotly. Sharon's face flopped over and looked at her through lust-slitted eyes, her mouth open in a perpetual O as Brad continued to screw her. "I've never seen anything so hot," Brenda said to Sharon, letting her left hand slowly reach out to land on Sharon's jiggling left tit. Sharon's eyes closed as she rubbed her palm over the stiff, eraser-sized nipple. "Yeah!....that's it, Brenda....help me make her come....uuhhh...and I'll.....fuck you!" "AAAAHHH....UUHHHH....MMMHHMMMM!" Sharon began panting right at her face and Brenda ran her hand over both of Sharon's supple breasts like she was waxing her car. A quick glance down her reclining, shuddering body and Brenda could again see Brad's crimson-hued erection bucking up and down in the widespread V of his sexy, derilious mother's legs. Another five or six thrusts and Sharon's back arched sharply, her head dipping straight back as she began cumming. "UUUUUHHHGGHHHHAAAAHHHHH!.....HHHHAAAAHHHHHOOHH!" Sharon shrieked as her hands, which had been grabbing bunches of bedspread, shot up and held her son's sides as leaned further over her, pressing his swollen pleasure-giver deep in her rippling loins. "Yeaaaahh...yeaaaahh....she's cumming so biiiiiggggggg!" Brad announced as he rode his mother's twitching body. After a few minutes, mother and son were still. "You really got off that time," Brad said after giving his mother a real kiss. Brenda thought the kiss was probably the most intimate part of the incest she had just witnessed; fucking and sucking could be explained away by hormones, but the deep soul kissing that Sharon and Brad did in front of her showed genuine love. "It's been a crazy, wonderful day," Sharon said simply, stroking Brad's face. Then she turned to look at her. "Brenda, I don't know where all this is...heading but we can talk about it later. I want a grandchild. Now, you two get busy and make one." 'Time to fill Brenda's box with some more cum!' Brad thought hotly as he untangled himself from his mother.Brenda began to shift over on the bed, arranging herself on her back with her head in the pillows. While that looked incredibly inviting, Brad had had enough of the missionary. He wanted to take Brenda in a different position than the one he had already had her in. "I want you on your hands and knees," Brad told her. "I want to get real deep when I plant my seed." He felt ridiculous saying that, like he was some sort of Johnny Appleseed, but it had the desired effect. His turned-on sister-in-law rolled to her left and positioned herself on her hands and knees, facing away from him, with her head in the far right corner of the bed. She swung her long hair to one side, looking back at him as he moved up behind her full ass. "Man, what a pretty pussy!" Brad said as he moved in closer. All shaved and wet and soft looking, Brenda's sex winked at him, ready to get stuffed with his unflagging stiffie. His hands caressed her ass and squeezed it, pulling her cheeks as he pressed his knees against the inside of her shins and made her open her stance wider. Her ass lowered further down then began to lift again, roll forward, as Brenda lowered herself down on her elbows. He slid his hands a little lower and used his thumbs to pull her pussy folds apart and her pink tunnel was right there, just begging for it. The bed behind him shifted and his mother moved beside him on her knees as well, her left hand resting on his shoulder while her right hand rubbed his back affectionately. "Go ahead, Brad," she said softly, her eyes on Brenda's opened sex crease. His cock bobbed up and down as his mother encouraged him to fuck and impregnate her other son's wife. "Yes," Brenda purred, wanting it also. His mother's left hand slid off his shoulder, went under his arm and she grabbed his erection, bending it down toward its target. Brad flexed his hips forward and his knob pressed into Brenda's slick opening and then disappeared down her snug hole. "Ahhh, yeah!" he grunted as he slowly worked himself into Brenda's fertile fuck furrow. "That's a good boy," his mother said throatily near his ear. After a few minutes of careful invasion, Brenda was full of cock and Brad began thrusting back and forth in her succulent cunt while his mother stroked his chest and ass with her hands. "Ooooohhh.....mmmmmmm...uuuummmm....GodohGod...mmmmmmm," Brenda mewed as he held her hips and pushed and pulled his erection in and out of her slippery, tight vagina. The scene played itself out for about ten minutes, the intensity rising and rising. Brenda came with a shriek and Brad had to slow his thrusts until her cunt had gone slack again, then he began pounding her liquidy hole like a madman as he felt his own orgasm cresting. "HERE I COME!...OOOHYEAAHH...UUUUUGHHH.....UUUGGHH!" he bellowed as his mother held him and his balls blew his wad deep in his sexy sister-in-law. He came so hard his balls hurt. 'This stud service is the greatest!' he thought to himself as his cock finally stopped twitching in Brenda's cum-ladened cooze and his mother kissed the side of his neck. Epilogue - 15 months later "I wish you'd let me clean up," Sharon said to Chris as she got up from the dining room table. "Leave it. We'll clean up later," Chris assured his visiting mother. "Why don't you and Brad go in and relax in the living room. Brenda will be down in a few minutes. Carol goes down like a shot." Sharon and Brad got up from the table, sharing a knowing smile as they headed into the front room. The night had been very special; both she and Brad were always happy to come over to Chris's house and see little Carol. She was a beautiful, healthy baby that had been born almost nine months to the day of the wild happenings up in Sharon's bed. Sharon sat in easy chair and Brad slouched down on their couch, holding the bottle of beer he'd not finished at dinner. Chris came in a few minutes later carrying a couple of wine glasses and another bottle of wine. He, Brenda and Sharon had consumed a bottle at dinner already. "Oh, Chris...you shouldn't have opened another bottle," Sharon said as he handed her a glass. "Well, if we don't finish it, it's no biggie. Besides, this is a celebration. Carol's 6 months old and this day will never come again." Sharon let Chris pour her another glass. She already felt warm all over from the alcohol she'd already consumed but Brad would be okay to drive them home. Brenda came down the stairs at that moment and Brad couldn't help mentally undressing her, now that he knew all her charms in intimate detail. The blouse she wore had sort of a low neckline and with her mammaries even larger from breastfeeding, she was showing plenty of cleavage. He was surprised his brother would let her traipse around like that but he wasn't complaining. Fucking her for the few weeks the previous year had been awesome and it did pain him to know he would probably never get to again. Still, his mother was giving him all he wanted. "She went right down. She's such a good baby," Brenda said. "You're so lucky...this one kept us up all night," Sharon said, tapping Chris on the leg as he stood by her chair pouring wine into the other glass he had brought. "Here you go, Bren," Chris said, handing the glass of wine to her. "Now, I'd like to propose a toast." "You need a glass, Chris," Sharon said. "Nah, I'll use the bottle....Okay, first I'd like to thank Brenda for bringing such a beautiful baby into our lives." Brenda and he shared a quick kiss. "Come on, Chris," Brad chimed in. "You had a little to do with it, you know?" "I wish that were true," Chris said cryptically. Sharon felt her stomach drop a little. Was it possible that Chris knew something? "Look, we all know it's not true," Chris continued. "The second part of my toast is to the other people that did make it happen - you and Brad." Sharon looked at Brenda and saw that she was smiling at her and Brad. Chris's announcement didn't seem to faze her; she had known that he knew before they came over. What was happening here? "I'm afraid our little secret is out," Brenda said, taking a sip of wine. "But Chris understands, so don't worry. Chris spoke to Dr. Evans and found out about his low-sperm count and sort of put two and two together." "I felt bad accusing her of committing adultery," Chris said, stroking Brenda's arm. "But the doctor was so incredulous that I'd been able to get Brenda knocked up...well, it was all I could think of." "I decided to just tell him the truth and, after a while, he saw the logic in it. We both came clean with each other about everything. He had some secrets, not like ours, but he got his secrets off his chest and I came clean about everything. We don't have any secrets now," Brenda said proudly. "That's right, Mom," Chris said. "I know all about Brenda and Brad... and about you and Brad." Brad and his mother exchanged worried looks but their concern was tempered by Brenda's continuing smile. "At first, I was shocked but, well, now I think it's all right," Chris continued. He handed the wine bottle to Brenda and extended his hand to Sharon. She took it, thinking that he wanted to show his understanding by holding her hand. Chris continued, "I really don't see anything wrong with what you and Brad are doing. A mother and a son ....no, I don't see a thing wrong with that." Brad saw his mother's arm straighten as his older brother pulled on her hand. He was pulling their mother up out of her chair. Realization dawned on Sharon at that point and she felt a great calm come over her. Things were going to be all right. She drained the wine glass she held and handed it to Brenda as her husband led the way to the stairs. "Whatta?...." Brad said to Brenda as she began sitting down the bottle and glasses on the coffee table. The legs of his mother and Chris were disappearing upstairs. "Don't you see, Brad?" Brenda said as she sat by him on the couch. "You and Chris are so much alike. That's why I told him about you and your mother.....I knew he'd be interested too." "So, Mom and Chris are....." "That's right. You're going to have to share her from now on," Brenda said as she began to stroke his chest. "Of course, the sharing goes the other way too...you see, Chris and I love Carol so much that we want another baby....and tonight's a good night, if you know what I mean." Brad leaned into her and they began kissing. He let his hand roam over Brenda's milk-swollen tits, rubbing them through her blouse. After ten minutes of heavy necking and petting, he had Brenda very hot. "Let's go upstairs," she suggested. "You read my mind," he responded, getting up and leading her up the stairs. As they walked past the guest bedroom, Chris could clearly hear his mother moaning inside as she and Chris enjoyed each other for the first time. 'What a family!' he thought as he looked forward to fucking Brenda once again. The End

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11132.txt

Donovan Edwards

A Little Summer Heat

'Aaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhhhh Wretchedness!' I sighed to myself. My consulting job was coming to an end. I had milked it for all it was worth, and the dead horse didn't deserve beating any further. I had the Novell net set up and working beautifully. I had added a couple of custom database applications, standardized the Windows environment, and I was pretty much all set. Even backing up the entire system could be done with the push of a single button. It was flawless. It was perfect. It was done. Finally. It was the height of a scorching summer, and it had taken me about a year to finish the project correctly from start to finish. Most of the techie stuff had been done and done well; now I was in the final phase: Teaching users how to get the most out of the system. I had made everything push-button simplistic, and everyone seemed to get it. However, I needed someone with better-than-average user knowledge to teach all the technical aspects to, just in case something went wrong after I departed. Jim Nevin, the branch director, knew that Linda Taylor and I didn't get along as well as others in the office, but he also knew that Linda had the best technical aptitude of the entire office, even better than himself. He thought that she should hold the position of Network Administrator after I left. What Jim didn't know, and what nobody else in the office knew, was that I had been fucking Linda Taylor pretty steadily since the previous Christmas. We hid it very well. Very well indeed. In the office, we said the perfunctory good mornings, and that was it, but outside the office, we fucked up a storm. Linda's marriage was on a crash course, sputtering and spiraling to a fiery death. She wasn't even trying to save it. She didn't care anymore, and she wanted out. Her husband, Randy, was getting it elsewhere, she suspected, and supposedly had been for a long time. Her kids, three of them, looked to me as just some guy in their mother's office. Little did they know. By this time, Jessica was 10, Jodi was 3, and Bobby was a year and some change. They were all spitting images of their mother, redheaded and freckle-faced. Randy Taylor, from the two times that I had met him, seemed to be the stereotypical 'high school jock who couldn't make it', avid beer drinking, out with the boys, leave me the fuck alone I'm watching football type of guy. I didn't feel guilty one single iota about fucking his wife. In his house, in his bed, in my car, in my apartment, in a cheap, rancid hotel where she had to wash off my cum in the sink because it didn't have a shower. Not guilty at all. I rationalized that he had brought this down upon himself. Secretly, I hoped that he knew. Why, I don't know. Maybe I wanted him to change and become the man that he promised her he'd be. Linda and I had great times together, but that was that. We both knew that this was a temporary thing. I had no intentions of taking her away and marrying her. At the time, I was 24 and she was 32. She had no intentions of forcing a divorce upon him either. She figured that it would just end one day when they both called it quits. In my own head, I knew that she still loved him in some perverse way, and I wanted them both to get it together, not only for their sake, but for the sake of their kids. We didn't even make a great effort to hide the torrid affair outside of the office. I even went as far as fucking her in the backseat of my Olds in a McDonald's parking lot! . . . On a Friday night even! The coil springs bucked and squeaked, and even though I couldn't see, I knew that a bunch of high school kids were transfixed at the sight of this car bouncing up and down seemingly of its own accord. When we were done, the car reeked of pussy, and the backseat was drenched in sweat and breast milk. During our months together, Linda herself began to change, for the better. She seemed to walk a little more upright. New hairstyles appeared spontaneously. Even smiles danced across her freckled face. The clothes grew tighter and more revealing. She had even lost a little weight, in all the right places. Her ass was still plump and luscious, her tits were still two big melodious honeydew melons that squirted voluminous fountains of milk almost on command. I had even taken to laying across her lap and sucking for all I was worth. Bobby had been weaned by then, but I was more than happy to make up for the loss. She would even cum while I suckled her, her tits quivering and slapping me in the head. In the seven months since our initial, nasty encounter, there wasn't a place in her house, or my apartment or a hotel within 100 miles that we hadn't left wet spots. I even fucked her in her fridge! I bent her at the waist and shoved her entire upper body into the large refrigerator and fucked her pussy silly while her titties bounced back and forth over butter and cold beer cans and shit like that. When I took her out, she was freezing from the waist up, but her nipples were like thumbs trying to hitchhike! There wasn't a spot on her body that my dick didn't travel to. I fucked her in her fiery red cunt, in her blubbery buttcheeks, in her hot mouth, between the globes of her tits, and even between her toes! At the time I thought this was strange, but the experience was quite pleasurable. It was one of my last 'in-office' days, and I decided to begin the cleanup process, taking and boxing up my stuff. My office was a temporary one, so they had located me down the hall quite a distance from the Receptionist's desk and anything else, for that matter. I didn't mind. In fact, I liked the isolation, after all, I am the stereotypical computer person: Not a 'people person' at all. The office was large too. Larger than Jim, the director's office even. Even with two large desks, a credenza, a sofa that appeared to be about 8 feet long, and several chairs, the office was still very spacious. I finished most of the packing and had two boxes seated on the floor. It was morning, and I had shown up first, letting one of the cleaning crew let me in. By the time I had finished packing, it was 9:00 am, and the office was just beginning to come to life. I walked down the long hallway to the main office. The first person to greet me was Cindy, Jim Nevin's 11-year-old daughter. During the Summer, instead of shelling out a few bucks for a day-camp or a babysitter, he thought it would be better if he brought her to the office and let everyone else keep an eye on her. It was frugal, but it was a shitty thing to hit your employees with babysitting duty. Cindy had a habit of terrorizing the office, not in a bratty sort of way, but more of a 'Stop whatever you're doing and play with me' sort of way. I couldn't blame her. Spending her Summer days cooped up in an office with a bunch of old folks, in fact, that's how I felt most of the time. I was the only one close to Cindy's age, even though, at 24, she still saw me as part of the 'grown-up establishment'. She had an unusual way of looking at things. Not childlike, just intelligently naive. She would even talk about politics and world current events. I asked her how she knew so much, and she said that she watched CNN in the morning while her father was getting ready for work. I liked Cindy, in a fresh, new idea sort of way. Nothing sexual, at first that is. Cindy even seemed to like me, because I talked to her like an adult, and not like a little kid. She even said that she appreciated me not being condescending to her. But, if she screwed up around me, I told her about it and chewed her out just like I'd do to anyone else. She seemed to like the equality. Most of Cindy's time had been spent going from one person to the next, seeing what they were doing, and then getting shooed away. When she came to me, I made a genuine effort to explain what I was doing and why. She even seemed to comprehend some of my techno-babble. Consequently, I took her under my wing as my gopher/protégé. "Susan's not here today... Go log in at her computer. The password is Z-E-O-S Twelve," I told her. She followed directions implicitly, and this was no major task for her. She skipped down the long hall and booted and logged in to Susan's PC. She even knew how to ring me and begin a chat session. For 11, her typing skills were getting better by the day; she was familiar with the home-row keys and on a good day, could get up to about 35 wpm without error.Her slimmer fingers seemed to give her an advantage. I don't know why. We chatted for a few minutes, I ran some diagnostics and told her that everything was okay, and she could come back. I walked out of my office and made my way to the bathroom. It was located off the hall between my office and the main office. Cindy turned the corner and spied me on her way back. She started running towards me, getting up a full head of steam and running wide open. Her white summer dress flounced as she kicked like an Olympian. As she approached, she didn't slow down and slammed into me, giggling all the while. She hit my midsection so hard, I thought I'd piss on myself right there. "That was great! I did it right, right?" She was looking up at me. It was as if I was noticing her for the first time. Cindy is a beautiful girl, if an 11-year-old can be considered beautiful. I guess it was more like 'Cute with the potential for beauty at some later date'. Her blond hair, little, slightly upturned nose, and cocoa brown eyes gave her an incredibly beautiful appearance. "Yeah, you did okay," I said, flicking her cute nose. "There's a surprise for you in my office." "What is it?" "Go see," I said knowingly. I walked around her to the bathroom, singing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game.' "Hardballs!" She exclaimed, and then ran to my office, giggling at her play on words. I had a pirated copy of a great baseball game called 'Hardball'. I didn't even have to teach her how to play it, she took to it all so quickly. Her brother was on the high school team, so she knew the rules relatively well. Once I taught her a few strategies like 'Hit and Run' and how to maximize her lineup, she had a powerhouse team. My team was tops though. Undefeated through 62 games and nobody had even come close. I had the Boston Red Sox, and my lineup was comprised of the best the American League had to offer: Vaughn, Canseco, McGuire, Henderson, Boggs, Griffey Jr., Fielder, Frank Thomas, Bo Jackson... only the best. The pitching staff was stellar: Clemens, McDowell, Eckersley, Viola, Randy Johnson, Guzman. My numbers were astronomical, I had even exported my team stats into a Lotus spreadsheet to graph them. I grabbed hold of my dick and was a little surprised at how small it seemed. "What are you afraid of, boy?" I spoke to it. "She's a kid, don't be afraid. I won't even think about it, so don't worry." The conversation was ridiculous. My dick was afraid of showing want for an 11-year-old! The piss felt great. It seemed as if I had been storing it for a while because it jetted out of me and splashed off the urinal. I had to stand back a bit to avoid getting wet. "If we can put a man on the moon, surely we can invent a splash-guard for the male urinal!" I said aloud. It was a joke, but it was a good idea. I washed the few stray splashes of whizz off my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. "Not stunning, but I'll do," I said, and chuckled a bit. 'Maybe the bod did need a little work,' I thought. "Well, the rest of the summer is open and the bank account is stuffed!" I was right. This would probably be one of my last days at the office, and the consulting fees I had worked up were quite substantial. I walked back to my office expecting to find Cindy quietly playing games on my PC, but she wasn't there. I assumed that she had left and found something else to do, but I could see a hint of white fabric coming out of the bottom-front of my desk. Cindy had a little game she liked to play on people. Hide under their desk and wait until they sat down to scare the shit out of them. I had fallen prey on several occasions, but not this day. I slowly walked around and sat at my desk and began playing Hardball with my team. "Hmmm. I wonder where Cindy went." I heard her giggle. "She didn't want to play baseball? Well, looks like I'm gonna have to change her team statistics." "You better not!" Said the voice beneath me. "Oh my, I'm hearing voices. Is that Cindy? But I don't see her. Where oh where can she be?" She giggled again and pinched my leg. "What was that? Cindy was that you? I can't see you. You couldn't be hiding...undermydesk!" I screamed and fell to the floor, grabbing her and tickling her through her thin dress. It was dark beneath my desk, but I could make out Cindy's face, her teeth gleaming in laughter as I tickled her sides. I made up my mind to teach her a lesson once and for all, and maybe cop a good feel in the process. "Pleeeeeeeeezzzz!" She giggled out with tears in her eyes. I was relentless, I had gotten one of her sneakers and socks off and was going nuts on the sole of her foot. Cindy squirmed and bucked trying to get away, but the laughter was making her very uncoordinated. I knew she was in pain. My brother used to do this to me when I was younger, and I know that after a while, the laughter doubles you over with abdominal pain. Cindy was gasping now, desperate for air, clawing and kicking at my hands with her free leg. I was seated on the floor behind my desk, holding her foot tight and rubbing the fingers back and forth over the naked soles very lightly. I could see a little better now, and through her thrashing, Cindy's dress had ridden up to her waist and she made no effort to pull it down to a modest level. I could see the well-defined mound through her little white 'baby-doll' panties. I stopped the tickle-torture, she sat up and I stared into her sparkling, tear-streaked eyes. It seemed as if, for the first time, I was really considering her features, examining her woman/child-like charms to the fullest. She WAS beautiful, very beautiful. She wasn't a girl in my eyes anymore, she was a woman, although a very small one. "How did you know I was down here?" she asked, snapping me out of my trance. I still held her foot in my hands and unconsciously began massaging it. I didn't want to admit what I was feeling for this 11-year-old, but I definitely was feeling something. "Hmmmmm...that feels good," she sighed. I broke our gaze and looked down to see my hands rubbing her feet sensuously. I was shocked that I was actually doing it, and before I could think straight, she told me not to stop. I gave in, to this at least, and continued to stroke the foot, occasionally caressing the ankle and calf. Cindy was smiling at me all the while. A radiant, womanly smile that did nothing to quell my feelings for her. What feelings were those? I honestly couldn't say, but at that moment, I thought it was a bizarre kind of love. I was at ease around Cindy. I didn't have to pretend or become a fake human being. Cindy herself was a fresh alternative to most of the pretentious people that I seemed to have to deal with on a daily basis, 'Paper People', I called them: Shallow, no depth whatsoever. Cindy was different, brutally honest, and with an amazing combination of naïveté and intelligence. I thought that I had worked myself up enough to send her away, go to the bathroom and jerk off 10 or 20 times. I was on fire. My dick felt like a bar of iron in my pants. I playfully tickled her foot again and then let it drop...right onto my very erect dick! "Donny, you're hard there!" She exclaimed. I was shocked shitless, but my cunt-hungry dick took over all thoughts and actions. "Where is that?" I asked. I didn't want to push it too hard, too fast, so I just decided to let her fill me in on how much she knew. All the while, never thinking that it would lead to anything more than a little dirty talk. "Your dick, stupid!" "How do you know about dicks?" I asked incredulously. "Don't look at me like that! It's not like I've done it, or anything, but I've heard stories. I even saw my brother doing it in the shower." Her reply slapped me in the face. I couldn't believe it. Not only was I having this conversation with an 11-year-old, but she had seen Johnny, her 15-year-old brother having sex in the shower. "You saw Johnny Rotten having sex?" Her brother was a real brat-type. We called him Johnny Rotten. He was a good kid though, no worse than I was when I was 15. "No, not really. He was pulling on it. Whad'ya call it, 'Wanking'?" "Among other things," I replied. I was a little angry at myself for not using better judgment and shutting this thing down, nipping it in the bud before it got completely out of hand. "Do you wank it?" She asked. Her bare foot was now sliding up and down my crotch. I didn't want to believe that an 11-year-old could make a conscious decision to foot-fondle someone 13 years her elder. "Occasionally," I said, feeling more and more uneasy. "Show me!" She smiled. Damn it was sexy. "You're a little young, don't you think?" This hurt her, and I knew it would even before I said it, but I had to do something to diffuse the situation. From her dejected expression, I thought it had worked, but it didn't. "You don't mean that. I saw you glancing..." She looked down to her crotch. Eyeing her panties that were still partially visible to me. Precocious was not the word to describe Cindy, she was more like Intelligent beyond her 11 years. "Trying to say that you weren't looking at me? Too young, huh? What were you thinking of to get you like this?" She asked, pushing her foot harder into my crotch. "I'm not even ticklish...I was just playing." I grabbed her bare foot and feathered my fingers against the sole. Nothing. She was right. She wasn't the least bit ticklish. She was a tremendous actress. Then the sudden realization hit me that this girl, this child, this pre-pubescent beauty, was attempting to seduce me, but something in her plan had gone awry. "Here's mine.She pulled her white panties to the side, showing me the hairless pot of gold beneath. I gasped. My mouth hung open, and my eyes grew wide. It was beautiful. She snapped the panties back to her crotch and started again to foot-massage my dick through my trousers. I was defeated. My cock was portraying my true feelings. I closed my eyes and put my head back, reveling in the feeling that her small foot was giving me. "Let me see it," she purred. I complied quickly, much too quickly. Before I could stop myself, I had scooted my pants and shorts down to my knees and tried to catch my breath as my dong stood proudly, inspecting the scene. She started her manipulations again, sliding the foot down the sides, stopping only to tickle the sensitive underside with her big toe. I don't know how, but she definitely knew what she was doing. "For someone who's never done it, you sure know how to do it!" "Johnny Rotten taught me," I snapped back to attention and stared at her, waiting for more. "He was in the shower... He didn't let me touch it, but he did show me how to wank it and where it felt good to touch it. I wanted to touch it... to kiss it, but he wouldn't let me. Anyway, that was that, his wasn't nearly as big as yours." It felt good to hear. I knew that I was of average size, but I guess I appeared monstrous compared to her 15-year-old brother. "Maybe you could kiss mine." I couldn't stop myself from saying it. This was a point of no return. If she hesitated at all, I'd stop the game, but if this young creature put her lips to my dork, there would be no chance of her getting out of this office a virgin, and I knew it. She seemed to know how important a moment this was, and she didn't hesitate at all. She quickly maneuvered herself between my legs and grabbed my dingaling with one of her small hands. I could feel her warm breath coating my cock and balls. "HardBalls," she giggled into my crotch. She was right, I was as hard as I'd ever been, harder than I thought humanly possible. When Cindy started rubbing my cock, the skin was so tightly wrapped that the friction and the heat made me think that I was going to explode. Not just 'cum' explode, but 'blow up' explode, like a sausage in a microwave. Without any warning at all, she swooped down and covered my dickhead with her lips. The hot, tight opening sucked and vacuumed the head, while her tongue worked back and forth against the sensitive underside. I was grunting now, lunging my hips and trying to force my entire cock into her mouth, taking her by the golden hair and fucking her face. Her slim fingers were digging deeply into my thighs. The added pain was pleasurable. "Ohhhhh Yeahhhhh!" My words were a long whisper. I had never felt anything like it, and I wanted more. I wanted it all. I let go of her hair and started caressing Cindy's back. I could feel the thin straps of the trainer bra and each vertebrae beneath her skin. I used both hands to pull the dress up and over her back. Her young body was beautiful, not that of a child, but of a young woman. Her amazingly narrow waist led to beautiful hips and slim, well-muscled legs. For an 11-year-old, little Cindy was a complete knockout! I tugged at the bra, the rubber-band-like straps stretching and snapping. I couldn't find the clasp, and believe me, I tried. I thought that maybe it was in the front, but then I thought that that design was reserved for those who want easy access tit action. It couldn't hurt to look. I groped underneath Cindy, her bobbing head still suctioning my cock like a Hoover Deluxe vacuum cleaner. The little triangles of cottony material covered two soft hills of flesh that I couldn't help but squeeze and caress. Cindy moaned when I did this, and the moaning only added to the intensity of the blow-job that I was receiving. I could feel the stream begin to churn and bubble within my balls, and I knew that I couldn't possibly hold out much longer, so I decided to get a little respite. I pulled Cindy's head up to meet mine. Her eyes were sparkling, and she was smiling, saliva coating her lips. I got to my knees with my cock bouncing majestically. "Holy shit!" I gasped. In my absent-minded, fuck-lust-filled state, I had forgotten that the door to my office was wide open. I quietly got to my feet, forgetting that my pants were now down to my ankles and tripped trying to get to the door. Cindy laughed, and I laughed too, though not as hard as her. I shimmied my pants, shoes, and socks off and crawled to the door, closing it and locking it. I turned out the fluorescent overhead lights and hoped and prayed that if anyone came looking for me, they would think I was in the downstairs cafeteria or in the computer room upstairs. I stood up in the new darkness and listened. My computer monitor glowed green against the far wall, but that wasn't really enough to see everything. I could hear Cindy moving about, and then I saw her crawling from behind my desk. She had removed all of her clothes. The sight of her naked form crawling across the floor like a kitten made me want her all the more. She sat on my sofa and crossed her legs provocatively. It was too dark to make her out completely, but I knew that she was smiling, waiting for more. "Come over here," her voice was a deep, throaty growl. I moved to her, slowly, letting my dick swing to and fro. Cindy reached beside the sofa and turned on the table lamp. We could see each other better now, and we were both smiling widely. Her body was fantastic. Her breasts weren't really breasts, just globs of fat that sat on her chest topped with two perky, pink nipples. I longed to suck them. Unbuttoning my shirt, I stopped in front of her, hoping that she would take the initiative. And she did. She slid my dick into her hot mouth with one stroke and began a suck action that quickly brought me to the edge again. I pulled out. It was too intense. I wanted her first cumshot to be her best. I caught my breath, kneeling in front of her, spreading her young legs. Just looking at the young hairless slit made me shiver with want. I simply had to eat it. My tongue painted up and down, back and forth across the barren plateau that was her snatch. The soft, hairless, unstretched lips were opening to me, throbbing, and hot, very hot. She raised her legs around my face, and I could feel the silky inner thighs caressing my ears. "Ohhhhhh lickk meeeeee!" The rosy bud of her clit bared itself, and I latched onto it and began to suckle. This drove Cindy wild. She bucked, tossed and turned, clamping her smooth thighs around my head and thrashing me about with her. I held on to her hips for fear that she'd snap my neck, alternately licking and sucking her little nub. I tried to hold onto her hips, but she was bucking too wildly. She was coming, I assumed for the first time, and it was heaven for her. I pulled back. I could see the glistening ooze coating her young snatch, her belly and small tits heaving with each breath. Cindy's pussy looked incredibly inviting, and small, very small. It looked too small, in fact, for what I wanted next. I wanted to at least try it, and Cindy sensed it. She really didn't know what came next. All she knew was that I had just made her feel better than she'd ever felt in her whole life. It wasn't enough for me. I still wanted to at least try to slide myself into that virgin, pre-pubescent box. She read my eyes and sensed my apprehensive feelings. "Yes... I want to." Her voice was confident, and although I knew that she had no idea what was in store for her, I went against my better judgment and all of my good senses and continued on. I grabbed Cindy's legs, spreading them slowly. She complied. I wasn't sure if this was going to work at all. I knew that this was wrong, very very wrong, but the sight of that stunning young thing with her slender legs spread widely and wanting me made me bypass all good reasoning. It's usually at this point where I make a conscious decision to wear a condom or not. My mind raced. 'This is an 11-year-old virgin! What disease can she possibly have?' I only gave a passing consideration to the fact that maybe she was old enough to get pregnant. Just the thought of a pre-teen carrying my child was too bizarre even for me to comprehend. Against my better judgment, I didn't ask Cindy if she had started her periods. I just assumed that she had. 'She's got breasts, she's got hips, she must have it.' 6th-grade Health class had finally paid off. Even after weighing the risks, I didn't care. Neither did my dick. It was even harder than it had been before, if that's possible. It was so hard, and the skin was so tight, it actually hurt. Too much blood flowing through my tube. It pulsed an eerie pink/purple with every heartbeat. I still didn't care. My mind and my dick were in final agreement: YES. She was waiting now, her legs spread obscenely. She was a very flexible girl, able to put her knees to her budding chest as she doubled herself. I grabbed myself while looking down at her, slowly inching forward so that my dickhead was at the entrance of her miniature box. I so wanted not to hurt her, doing my best to make her first experience a good and memorable one. Then I cursed myself for doing this at all. I'd always been horny, but this was illegal, and immoral, but the tightness that I was feeling was too much to turn back. I was being surrounded, enveloped by the hottest, tightest, most incredible orifice that I had ever experienced. "Oooooooooo it's so big. Unnnggggghhhh." "Does it hurt, Cin?" "Only a little. MMmmmmmmmm." I knew she was lying. It occurred to me that I was going about this the wrong way.I pulled the head of my dick out, watching it emerge from the hairless lips. I got to my feet, pulling the naked Cindy up with me. I brushed her hair from her face and bent to kiss her forehead. "One day," I said to myself, "maybe when she's older, I'll make her mine permanently." I meant it. Cindy hugged me tight, my dick bobbing against her belly.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13159.txt

Christine Stevenson

The Bank Manager's Radio Controlled Slave

'The Bank Manager's Radio Controlled Slave' Part One Copyright: 1986 through 1997. Christine Stevenson. Preface: Readers of 'In the Bank Manager's Cupboard' will remember how Karin's corporation had acquired David (now Davinia), his company, and what remained of his assets. Having trained him, she started to purchase radio-controlled devices to add further sophistication to her treatment of him. This story continues a year or so later. Chapter One: Karin, seated in the plush comfort of her executive chair in the penthouse office of 'Shedom International,' of which she enjoyed the title of Chairwoman, mused on how far she had come. Shedom was a name that Karin enjoyed because it expressed so well all that she had created, if not completely expressing her philosophy. Where possible, Karin elevated women into positions of power, and her organizations adopted positive discrimination policies. Where there were two equal candidates for a position of authority, she would employ the female candidate. Obviously, she would give males senior positions only if they were the best qualified for the job. But she always did her utmost to locate a more suitable female first. Her organization owned and controlled many apparently independent companies. Computerized memo systems kept her informed of the important activities of all Shedom's subsidiaries. Shedom was publicly quoted but little known; the vast majority of shares were owned by Karin and other Female Dominants, the rest primarily taken up by the Institutional investors who control so much of European investment nowadays. The shares were not sparkling performers on the Exchanges, but Shedom made healthy profits, and the shares were seen by all as a sound investment. A tiny red light flashed on her telephone, and Karin smiled as she became stimulated by the memories provoked by the presence of the red light. Just thinking about what she had done to David over the past year aroused her. Karin knew that the red light meant that 'Davinia,' a secretary to one of her Managing Directors, was lusting again. She ignored the red light, initially preferring to fantasize a little rather than bother to take any action herself.

Part One

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13076.txt

Bunda1

Carol's Weekend

'So how was your game last night?' she asked brightly as Ian came into the kitchen. Without replying, he walked over to the coffee percolator and poured himself a cup before turning to face her, his buttocks resting against the work surface. 'OK,' she said, laughing. 'So how much did you lose? £50, £100? More?' His gaze induced a little flutter of concern in her stomach as he slowly sipped his coffee. 'Rather more than that, I'm afraid,' he said quietly. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he mumbled something that she could not catch. 'How much?' she queried, her tone hardening a little. 'I lost you,' he said quietly, unable to look at her. 'What on earth do you mean, you lost me?' she replied, her voice tinged with nervous humour. 'It was the last play of the night,' he said. 'I had an incredible hand, and the betting just kept going on and on, but I knew I couldn't lose, so I just kept on going. Eventually, it was just me and Frank left, and the pot was massive. I ran out of money, and the rules state that you may not borrow from anyone around the table. Anyway, Frank said that he would offer me ten thousand against you.' Carol stared at him disbelievingly, too horrified almost to hear the outcome, yet knowing it already. 'And you lost,' she whispered. 'Four tens to his four queens,' replied Ian. 'I couldn't believe it.' 'Anyway, I told Frank that I would deliver the cash to him today, but he just looked at me as if I had gone mad and told me that the bet had been you, not £10,000.' 'And if I don't go to him, you lose the contract, is that it?' Carol finished for him. Ian shook his head, miserably. She watched the tears roll down his face and turned her gaze away from him, not because she was ashamed to see her husband cry, but so that he could not guess at the flutter of excitement that coursed through her. For several minutes, there was absolute silence before Carol dared to speak. 'What conditions am I supposed to accede to?' she asked in a firm, businesslike tone. Ian started to tell her that they would not go through with it, but she cut him short, asking again what the conditions were. 'We are supposed to go and stay with him at his house in the country next weekend, and he will have total control over us for 48 hours.' 'I see,' said Carol, and stood and left the kitchen.Behind her, Frank saw Ian enter the room and stop abruptly as he saw the powerfully built man caress his wife's perfect buttocks. 'Go outside and return in five minutes, Ian,' ordered Frank. Ian hesitated only briefly before he turned and left the room. 'Carol, please kneel down and take out my cock,' he said calmly, 'and then if you would be good enough to suck it for me, please.' Carol sank, trancelike, to her knees and reached forward to draw the zip of his trousers down. Reaching into his pants, she seized his cock and released it, unable to resist the little gasp that came as she saw the size of his semi-erect member. Grasping it by the base, she lifted the heavy head to her mouth and slid her lips over it. Almost immediately, she felt his tool begin to stiffen and grow as she ran her mouth up and down its length, twirling her tongue around its sensitive tip. She squirmed slightly as she felt her pussy spasm and release a trickle of moisture into her rapidly dampening panties. Ian was reasonably hung, but Carol reveled in the sheer size of Frank's cock, longer and thicker as it was. She felt Frank's hands slide under her arms and gently lift her off her knees. Her mouth lost contact with his prick, and she frowned inwardly. She had expected to suck his beautiful cock for a while more. 'Take your panties off, Carol,' he told her, 'and place them on the edge of the desk.' Carol did as she was told, secretly reveling in the now large, wet patch that clearly showed on the white cotton. Carefully, she placed them on the top of the desk before turning back to Frank once more. Grasping her waist, he pulled her towards him, and she felt the engorged knob of his manhood prod between her glistening lips as he raised her skirt from behind. Gently yet firmly, he drew her down, and she moaned as she felt him stretch her wide, driving his cock deeply into her until she was sitting astride him. 'Stay perfectly still,' he said quietly as he arranged her skirt demurely over her thighs so that it was impossible to see anything untoward in their position. At that moment, Ian returned, and Frank swung the office chair around until the pair of them faced him as he stood uncertainly in the doorway. 'Sit in that chair, Ian,' said Frank, motioning to an armchair directly in front of them. Silently, Ian did as he was told. Carol watched her husband sit down, his eyes flickering between the floor and the united couple in front of him. Abruptly, he saw her panties on the desk, and Carol distinctly saw his cock twitch in his trousers as he realized the full situation. The faintest of moans escaped her lips as she felt Frank's cock pulse strongly in her cunt, and her urge to rise and fall on his prick was almost intolerable, yet his hands held her waist firmly, resisting her attempts to move the monster between her lips. Then, suddenly, he moved in her, pulling her effortlessly upwards before letting her fall back onto his slick tool. Carol tasted blood as she bit her lip. Pain and ecstasy mingled for her as he drove his cock deeper into her than she had ever had one before. Again and again, she felt herself rise and fall, and she leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her knees as his giant cock filled her soaking passage. She opened her eyes as she heard Ian grunt and saw him shift uncomfortably in his chair, his trousers tenting at the front. 'See how your husband loves to see his beautiful wife get fucked by a proper cock,' exclaimed Frank with a touch of amusement in his voice. Sure enough, as Carol watched, she saw a stain spread on the front of his trousers, and realized that her husband had just ejaculated. A small tinge of compassion for her husband was swept away as Frank hauled her down once more onto his cock. On and on, he pounded into her, seemingly oblivious to the sensations she knew her tight cunt must be producing for him, and still, she heard his breathing steady and normal until all sound for her was drowned out in the scream of ecstasy she uttered as wave after wave of climax swept over her. Frank held her tightly as she shuddered and trembled on his lap, feeling her juice spurt out from her plugged cunt to dampen his thighs. Without effort, he lifted her off him, his prick exiting her with a lewd sucking sound that carried clearly to Ian. 'Take your clothes off, Ian, and your delectable wife will clean you,' Frank ordered, and watched as he stood and discarded his garments until he stood naked in front of his kneeling wife, droplets of come matting his pubic hair to his groin. 'When you have finished with Ian, join me on the terrace outside, Carol. Ian, you may go to your room.' With that, Frank tucked his wilting prick into his trousers and left through the French windows. Ten minutes later, Carol joined him as he leaned over the balcony. 'Thank you, Frank,' she said simply. He turned and smiled at her, then looked out over the beach and the people who passed before them. Ian watched them from his window as they stood close to each other, talking. His emotions lay in tatters, realizing just how much it had turned him on to see his wife ride that big prick. Incredible. As he watched, he saw Frank's hand slide down Carol's shapely back and rest for a moment on her covered behind, but it stayed still only for a moment or two before pushing the fabric up over her waist to expose her beautiful, firm buttocks. Ian realized that anyone glancing from the beach towards them must be able to see his wife's bare pussy, and the thought swelled his rapidly hardening cock still further. He was fully hard when, after dipping his forefinger into Carol's wet cunt, Frank slid it forcefully into her anus, causing her to cry out at the pain and arousal of its entry. Slowly and casually, his finger wormed in and out of her as she struggled to control her breathing. Supporting herself on the balustrade, Carol felt her knees weaken as her breath began to come in little pants. The sensations he was inducing in her were breathtaking, and she kept biting her lip to suppress her moans, acutely aware that any loud noise would undoubtedly draw attention to them from the passing people not thirty yards away on the beach. Very soon, Carol shuddered into another orgasm, not so intense as before but nonetheless very pleasurable. Once she had recovered, she straightened up and announced that she needed the lavatory. Frank smiled at her, his finger still hooked in her arse. 'By all means, Carol,' he said with a broad smile. As she turned to go, his finger bent a little in her arse, and she stopped abruptly. 'Here,' he said. Carol turned slowly and looked into the man's eyes. She could not believe that he had said that, and there was no way that she was going to pee there on the balcony for anyone to see, but his eyes held hers steadily, and she felt her resolve ebb away as she realized that he was perfectly serious. Some minutes later, Ian sprayed his watery spunk onto the window as he saw his wife release her stream where she stood. Once more, the pure eroticism of the situation had proved too much, and control had deserted him. Downstairs, Carol closed her eyes as she felt her hot liquid fall from her legs to splash around her ankles. Despite herself, she felt so highly charged that she wondered if she was going to pass out. Her nipples ached to be released from the confines of her dress, and her clitoris seemed almost to be vibrating of its own accord, so sensitive was it. Pulling her around in front of him, Frank turned his back on the beach and opened his zip. Despite the fact that his body obscured her as he pushed her to her knees, Carol had never felt so lewd in all her life. Here she was about to go down on a practical stranger in broad daylight, within calling distance of perhaps ten people. Not even a whore would take a risk like this, she thought to herself as she engulfed his fat cock in her willing mouth. She knew, though, that her pussy was practically on fire with this new feeling, and despite herself, she was unbelievably aroused. Reaching up, she began to pump his cock with her small hand as she worked her tongue frenziedly around his shaft. As if reading her mind, Frank suddenly spoke, 'Suck it, you tart. Take my cock all the way in like a £100 whore.' Carol renewed her frenzied attack on the head of his cock as the words tumbled over her. Recognizing the lack of malice in the abuse did nothing to alleviate the added thrill it gave to the situation. 'That's it, slut, suck my cock,' he continued, 'taste it, you fucking whore.' Again and again, he used the words, and each time seemed to have more effect than the last, until Carol's cunt juice was flooding down her thighs as her hand rubbed hard at her clitoris. Just as she came, she felt him shudder. 'Do not swallow,' he said clearly before firing an incredible amount of hot cum into her aching mouth. Despite his order, she had to swallow a little while more that squeezed around the edge of his prick and rolled down her cheeks. Pulling his cock out of her, he dragged her limp body to her feet and kissed her lips before moving behind her so that once more she was on show to anyone who cared to look in their direction. She felt his breath hot on her neck as he breathed into her ear. 'Now you may,' he whispered. In a trance, Carol let his warm spunk slide down her throat, only dimly aware that she had never swallowed Ian's cum before in their entire time together. Taking her hand, he led her back into the main room of the house where he fixed them both a long, cooling drink. Once seated, he watched Carol as she struggled to come to terms with the events of the last few hours and was pleased when he saw her eyes grow calm. Telling her to finish her drink, he then ordered her to the bedroom that they were to share for the next two nights. Once upstairs, Carol stripped off and went through to the bathroom to shower, while Frank sat on the bed and opened up the bag that she had bought.In it were several different items that he had told her to buy at an extremely seedy shop in one of the more run-down areas of the city where they lived. Presently, Carol came through, wrapped in a towel. Immediately, she saw the items spread out on the bed, and she blushed, causing Frank to smile at her obvious embarrassment. "Come here, Carol," he said, holding out his hand to her. She approached the bed, and as she reached him, he stood up and, gently catching her around the waist, bent her over the bed. Carol watched, fascinated, as the big man reached onto the bed and took a tube of KY jelly. Guessing what was coming next, she relaxed her body, only to tense briefly as she felt the coldness of the jelly liberally smeared onto her tight, puckered anus. "Relax," she heard him say softly, and a moment later, she felt the blunt tip of the dildo she had seen him take from the bed rest against her tight hole. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated hard on relaxing her sphincter as she felt him gently yet firmly work the fat rubber cock into her anus. At one point, its sheer width caused her to cry out, but in the same moment, she felt the rest of it slide into her until only the T-bar was left visible. He stroked her bottom for a moment before helping her to straighten up. Gingerly, she adjusted her position and found that apart from the feeling of fullness it gave her, she could move freely and without discomfort. Turning her around, he pushed her gently onto the bed and carefully slipped a pair of heavy chrome balls into her cunt. Finally, he held out a pair of thin rubber panties that she had not seen before and told her to put them on. "Finish getting dressed and then go downstairs and wait for us," he said in a hushed voice that did not quite hide his excitement. With that, he left the room. When she had readied herself, she went down the long flight of stairs, and as no one was about, she made herself a gin and tonic, settling on the settee to await developments. As she sat, she was very aware of the items he had placed in her and the heat she was experiencing from the tight rubber pants she wore. Whenever she moved, little pleasurable tremors flicked through her body. Twenty minutes later, the two men walked into the room. Ian was dressed in unbelievably tight jeans that did nothing to hide the bulge of his cock and a dark, mustard-colored shirt. Frank was dressed in an expensive cream-colored suit, under which he wore a shirt and tie. "Shall we go?" he said amiably and turned to leave the room. Rising too quickly, Carol let out a small yelp of pleasure as the balls moved in her hot pussy, and she stumbled past Ian, ignoring his curious gaze. Frank told her to get in the back of the car with him and handed the keys to Ian, telling him to drive and warning him not to drink any alcohol that night. The run into the local town took ten minutes, but after just a couple, Carol was squirming in the back seat as each time the car passed over a bump in the road, the butt plug dipped a little deeper into her. Once parked, the couple followed Frank until he turned down a dark alley and stopped outside an innocuous door. Tapping gently on it in an obviously coded way, he stepped back, and a second later, the door swung open. The three of them stood in the dimly lit foyer until a girl, dressed in a black leather basque and stockings, arrived and led them to a table close to a small stage. Frank ordered a bottle of wine for them, and shortly afterward, it was delivered to the table by the same girl who had let them in. She explained that she was there to see to their every need for the evening. Frank smiled knowingly. Suddenly, Carol jumped in her seat and groaned out loud. Ian, along with everyone else in the small room, stared inquisitively at her as she sat rigid, her hands pressed firmly on the tabletop, staring desperately down to her legs. After a moment, she seemed to relax and, with a gasp, she slumped back into her chair, looking hard at Frank, who simply smiled and took his hand out of his pocket. She could hear the other guests talking and laughing, and somehow knew that she was the center of every conversation in the room. She saw Ian look at her speculatively as she stood up and asked the girl where the lavatory was. Once directed, she moved off across the dimly lit room. Frank caught the waitress by the arm, whispered in her ear, and watched as she followed Carol across the room. When she reached the ladies' room, Carol found a cubicle and sat down. Raising her skirt, she pulled the front of the black, rubber panties down and looked at the small cord that extended out of her pussy. Just as she did, the door of the cubicle swung open, and Carol saw the waitress swiftly enter, closing the door behind her. "Excuse me," Carol said angrily, "I am using this lavatory at the moment. Would you kindly get out?" "I will when you have finished," smiled the girl. "I am here to make sure that you do not remove anything that you shouldn't." Carol knew there was no point in protesting and sighed deeply. "Be my guest," she snapped, and with that, pulled the panties down and proceeded to sit down on the lavatory. Angrily, she stared at the young woman who stood close to her, and her anger increased as she saw the girl simply smile back. With difficulty, Carol managed to pee before she stood up, re-arranged her underwear, and pushed past the waitress with a curt "Happy?" She was halfway back across the room when the love balls buried in her pussy burst, once more, into life. Carol's knees buckled, and she would have fallen, but for the fact that she managed to steady herself on the shoulders of a man sitting close to her. Unable to speak, she was aware of the curious look on the man's face as she leaned against him, panting for breath. As suddenly as it had started, the intense vibration stopped, and Carol managed to rise. Muttering "Sorry" to the man who now wore an amused expression, she walked carefully to her table. As she sat, she looked hard at Frank, who merely grinned and slid his hand into his pocket. This time, she felt the plug in her arse pulse, and once more, she was reduced instantly to a breathless, moaning mess. For the next half hour, they sat, barely speaking, drinking wine and sampling the little delicacies that the waitress brought to their table. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and a soft light spread over the stage, drawing their attention to it. A moment later, two women appeared on the stage, and to applause from the audience, began to strip and fondle each other. The audience watched as the two girls went through a standard lesbian scene, ending with them sixty-nining each other to orgasm. Carol noticed Ian squirming in his seat as the girls performed and could clearly see his tightly constrained cock bulge against the material of his jeans. After a small pause, the girls left the stage to applause, to be replaced by two men who proceeded to copy the act of the two girls. Carol had never seen two men together like this, and although it was not entirely to her taste, she found the scene strangely erotic. Several more acts followed, each more exciting to her than the previous, almost as if the whole show had been aimed at bringing her to a pitch of excitement. Several times, Frank had activated the items in her, which she now realized were radio-controlled, and she knew that her pants were awash with her own secretions. On stage, a beautiful girl was sucking the enormous prick of a stunning black man while she plunged a dildo in and out of her slick pussy. Carol could not believe that the girl could possibly be acting as she slid sideways onto the floor of the stage and fucked herself mercilessly to orgasm, groaning and screaming in her delight while the black man stood watching her, a grin on his lips. As the girl lay there whimpering, Frank leaned forward to Carol. "Finish him," he said simply. Dazed and aroused at her own sexual frustration, Carol moved like an automaton to the front of the stage. The black man advanced and held his cock proudly out in front of her. Without a word, Carol took his massive hardness in her mouth and began to suck. The audience watched in absolute silence as this beautiful woman, whom they did not know, fellated the actor for their pleasure. It did not last long, and with a broad grin, the man jetted his spunk into the girl's mouth, pulling his cock out halfway through to shoot a wad of hot come into her face. The audience went wild as the lights dimmed, and Carol slumped back into her chair. Frank leaned forward, and Carol felt him slip the straps of her dress over her shoulders to reveal her creamy tits to the entire gathering. Ian had never seen his wife's nipples so hard before. Then, to the delight of the audience, Carol brought her fingers to her face, wiped the man's come off her cheek, and massaged it into her breasts. "Ian," said Frank evenly, "go and get your wife some tissues from the men's room." With a desperate look at his wife, Ian did as he was told and limped away across the floor. Turning her chair to face him, Frank addressed the blonde. "We can leave now, Carol," he said earnestly, "or we can stay. Needless to say, if we do stay, you are going to be the center of attention for the rest of the evening." Carol stood, and for a moment, Frank thought that he had misjudged her and that she was going to leave. She stood looking at Frank for a long moment, and then, with an elegant wiggle, she let her dress drop to the floor. There was a moment's silence before the room erupted in applause at the sight of this gorgeous woman standing amongst them, clad only in a pair of rubber panties and high heels. Reaching up, Frank firmly grasped her stiff nipples and pulled her down to kiss her, smiling as he did so. When she stood upright once more, she realized that she was more aroused than she had ever been in her life before.Ian watched as his wife stepped up onto the stage and, in full view of everyone, slowly drew the rubber pants down her long legs. Silence reigned as she drew the two chrome balls from her pussy and lasciviously licked them clean before tossing them to Frank, who caught and pocketed them in one deft movement. Then she stepped down from the raised platform. Imperiously, she looked around the room until her eyes found Ian. Pointing at him, she beckoned him towards her. Hesitantly, he approached the magnificent form of his wife, sweat glazing his forehead. Meekly, he stood there as she undid his jeans and, in full view of the assembly, wrapped her fist around his straining prick and led him to the stage. Pushing him onto his back, she straddled his stiff prick and then sank down unerringly onto it so that, in one fluid motion, it was engulfed by her sopping pussy. Slowly and easily, she began to ride her husband for the entertainment of the audience, who had a perfect view of his knob sliding in and out of her hole.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/13460.txt

TheRant

Firsts

'Ah, Michelle!' The inspiration for today's self-indulgence had been on my mind more and more of late, but the morning's little meeting had really inflamed me. It had been a little accident. We both share the same homeroom and a number of the same classes, so our lockers are fairly close to each other. I was just walking back to it to switch books for the next class, my bag in my hand swinging gently as I walked, when I saw her crouched down on the balls of her feet going through the bottom of her locker. I was in a little bit of a hurry, and I guess I got a little close. When I passed her, my bag swung out and gave her a nice hard slap on the cheeks of her round ass as it stuck out. Trying to pretend it didn't happen, I rushed to my locker and undid the combination lock. Digging through the books, I gave her a quick glance and discovered that she was now standing up and staring at me with a strange look on her face. Then, flashing me a smile, she winked at me before turning to go to her next class. I froze. Well, most of me froze. My brain had locked up at the sudden blood loss to a lower region. 'She thinks I did it on purpose,' I thought. 'She thinks I had done it with my hand and not my bag. God..., I wish I had done it with my hand and not my bag. And she didn't seem to mind. In fact .... what does that wink mean?' The bell rang, and I quickly slammed my locker shut and ran for English class. I really can't say what happened the rest of the day in my classes. My mind was on automatic, walking me from class to class, occasionally taking notes when it decided they needed to be taken, but other than that, all I can remember was Michelle and that smile and wink. Let me tell you about Michelle. I've known her for a few years. The high school we both go to starts at grade eight, and we both started there at the same time.One of the nice things about this school is the homeroom is consistent. When you start, you're assigned a homeroom where you start the day, hear any messages that the school thinks you need to hear, and listen to your assigned homeroom teacher ask any questions they have to ask. It's a mixed group of students from grades 8 to 12, so it's a little bit intimidating at first, but you get used to it quickly. The nice thing is that next year when you come back, you get the same room, the same students - except for those who have moved or graduated - and the same teacher. This really can be a good thing, especially if a girl like Michelle starts out with you in the same group. That had been two years ago, we had both been thirteen, and were now fifteen and in grade ten. The first time I saw her, I had decided that she was very pretty, but was more interested in staring at the older female students. That hadn't lasted long, as puberty had started to hit Michelle hard and fast. At fifteen, I had made a note of her birthday - it was a month before mine, she was a goddess. She stood two inches taller than me - a temporary problem I half hoped, and was built better than any Playboy playmate I had ever seen in my meager collection of the magazines. Her breasts were large and high and jiggled nicely in her bra when she moved quickly or had to run. Luckily, we both had PE at the same time, so I got to see her run quite a bit. Her legs were long and shapely, leading up to a fine, tight, round set of ass cheeks that I knew as well as the back of my hand. I watched them moving away from me at every chance I had. 'God, I wish it had been my hand and not my bag.' She had long red hair that reached almost down to that perfect ass. I was glad it wasn't any longer. I wouldn't want anything to hide that perfect set of cheeks. Her skin, what I had managed to see of it anyway, was a pale pink without any blemish except for an occasional cute freckle. In the two years+ that I had known her, I had never seen a pimple on her. Whatever she used seemed to work perfectly. I, myself, wasn't always so lucky. Her eyes, when I managed to look at them long enough, were a pale green, and her mouth and lips were almost always smiling. The best thing about her was her personality. I know, what you're thinking. With a body like that, she doesn't need a personality, but you're wrong. Out of all the girls I had met so far in high school, there were three types: the stuck-up snobs who only talked with their select group of in-crowd friends, the shy or afraid who only talked to you when they had to and never looked at you in the eyes, and the easy girls, the sluts who always seemed to be trying to jump the football team. Unfortunately for me, football was never my game, so I missed out on them. Then there was Michelle. Everybody liked Michelle, and she seemed to like everybody back. It wasn't just the guys trying to get into her tight pants either, but from the locker room talk, every male I knew, including the teachers, would have loved to. She talked to the grades 8's to 12's, and she never talked down or up to anybody. I liked her because she wasn't afraid to joke around in class. We had a long-standing frog guts throwing contest in biology class when our 60's reject teacher was zoned out. So far, the score there was about even. She asked me to help her if she had a problem she couldn't figure out, or if she had missed class and didn't follow what was currently going on. I would classify her as a friend and hoped that she would see me the same, at least for now. I was determined that, after today, we were going to be more than friends. This Friday, I hoped it was going to be my hand and not my bag that gets a good feel of that ass. Still sitting in the cooling bathwater, I noticed that all my thoughts of Michelle had brought the usual reaction out of me, and hurriedly got to work to get rid of it. Chapter 3 --------- Friday, there was going to be a dance after school. It wasn't a holiday dance like Halloween or Christmas, and it was still two weeks until the spring break, so there wasn't any particular reason for the dance, but the timing was just right for me. I wasn't a particularly good dancer, but had been to a few of them before. Never on a real date with a girl, just by myself asking free girls to dance. I'd even danced with Michelle a few times. I thought of asking Michelle to go with me, but quickly chickened out on the idea. Luckily, it was a time when most people weren't couples. I know Michelle wasn't dating anyone seriously. She had for a few months last year, but it had ended rather abruptly, and the guy was now one of the few people in the school she wasn't friendly with anymore. Only a few of my friends had regular girlfriends, and even they were planning on going to the dance stag. I decided that was the way to go. Michelle would, for certain, be there. She hadn't missed one of the school dances since I'd known her. It was a long and frustrating two days waiting for Friday to come along, and when it finally did, the day was even worse. I fidgeted painfully in my desks for most of the day, imagining possible scenarios for that night, both good and bad. The good ones ended like something out of a Penthouse forum, and the bad ones ended with me being humiliated and having to leave the country from embarrassment. I didn't really expect either extreme to really happen, but hoped for the more positive outcome. There was a two-hour break after school ended before the dance was to officially begin, allowing time for students to go home and change clothes and clean themselves up if they wished to. After sweating nervously into my T-shirt all day, I certainly was one of them who wished to. I got home with lots of time to spare, sorted through what I should wear that night, and finally decided on a pair of pressed jeans and a fairly decent shirt. It was nothing fancy, but I didn't think anybody else would be dressing up too much for the dance. Stripping off my clothes, I jumped into the shower and quickly washed myself all over. Ending up with an erection again, I quickly jerked off, hoping that it would ease my tension and stop me from making a fool of myself that night. Not much luck at that. As soon as I got dried off and dressed, another one popped up right in my jeans. 'Oh, the joys of being fifteen and horny.' I was early for the dance when I arrived at the school, but so were most of the rest of the people. The dance was supposed to be open to all grades in the school, but rarely did any grades 8 and 9 show up, those that did usually just stood nervously in the shadows and watched the rest, and the grade 12's thought themselves too old to mix with us youngsters. It was just the school gym that was to be the dance floor, and taped music to be danced to, but most of us still were enthusiastic about it. Five teachers were going to be the chaperones tonight, a dubious job keeping track of so many hormone-crazed teenagers, while another acted as DJ, playing the tapes and asking for requests from the dancers. I had quickly found Michelle in the crowd, chatting and laughing with a few other girls and giggling when a boy went over to occasionally talk with them. I wanted to ask her to dance when the first song started, but decided to wait my turn. I guess I wasn't the only one who wanted to dance with her tonight. So I sat out the first dance and discreetly watched her dance with another guy. She seemed to be enjoying herself, but she seemed to enjoy herself wherever she was and with whoever she was with. After the first song ended, I decided to make a move, but Michelle had already been pulled away by another guy, so I asked Kathy, Michelle's best friend, to dance instead. Usually lately, she had been dating a guy named Steve who was in grade 11, but I hadn't seen him tonight. While dancing, we made some small talk, and I found out that he was working at his father's car dealership that night. Making an over-dramatic leer at her, I said good, that way I had her all to myself that night. She just laughed and said to be careful, Steve had a bad temper. As the music started to end, I steered us toward where Michelle was dancing. I don't know if Kathy knew what I was doing, but she seemed to be allowing me to lead her around and smiled at me. I thanked Kathy most formally for allowing the pleasure of the dance, and she said 'Thank you, kind sir,' back to me before giggling and going off to join another group of her friends chatting together. When I turned, there was Michelle alone. I quickly reached her before any of the shark pack circling her could get to her and asked her to dance. She smirked knowingly back at me and quickly agreed. It was one of the most awkward moments of my life. For the whole five minutes, we just stared at each other, neither saying anything as we danced. It was almost a relief when the dance was over, I thanked her and almost ran off to the side-lines. Gulping down a too-sweet soda, I watched one of the sharks attack her and pull her away for the next dance. And on it went like that. I danced twice more with her, my brain and mouth freezing, just managing to make my arms and legs move to the music. Occasionally, she said something to me, and I answered something incomprehensible back to her. Then it turned 9:45. The dance was going to be over at 10:00. Grinding up my nerves, I decided for one more try. When I reached her, I just managed to gently pull her away from another admirer and asked her to dance again. She looked at me with a little bit of both surprise and curiosity, but agreed. Then, when the music started, it was a slow dance. It wasn't the first of the night, and I had danced a few times with other girls and sat out a few, but none of my other dances with Michelle had been slow dances. We loosely put our arms around each other and rocked slowly to the music as we both looked at each other nervously.Staring at her face, I saw a small drop of sweat start to run down her forehead, then down the side of her face. It had been an active night for her; I don't think she sat out a single dance. Reaching my hand up, I carefully wiped the bead of sweat away. "It's pretty hot in here, isn't it?" Michelle smiled in agreement. "It's all these bodies jumping around all night. It's almost as bad as PE." The teachers in charge had hours ago opened the outside doors to let some fresh air in and the heat out, but it was a warm spring, and it didn't seem to be helping much. I hadn't noticed at first, but Michelle was getting awfully close to me. It wasn't something I didn't want or enjoy, or fantasize about, but it was causing some problems with some of my bodily processes. Getting bumped slightly by another couple dancing behind her, she knocked herself against me and almost froze as she felt the lump in my jeans dig into her. We both flushed red at the same time and moved slightly away from each other, but continued the dance. "Is that for me?" she asked in a whisper that I barely managed to hear. When she realized what she'd said, and that I'd heard her, her face became even redder. "I can't be the first guy tonight that this has happened to dancing with you." She let out a muffled snort of laughter and shook her head, her long red hair dancing around her in waves. "No, not the first," she agreed. "One of the grade 9 boys asked me, and he could barely move, let alone dance the whole time." With a weak sigh of relief that she hadn't screamed or done something else to humiliate me, I laughed along with her. When the music finally stopped, we were still laughing nervously. We stayed together as we left the dance floor, but I had to stare down a few guys who began to approach us. I couldn't tell if she noticed or not, which was a bit of a relief. Only about a quarter of the people who had been there were still there, and the clock said there was only ten more minutes before the dance was officially over. "Will you walk me home, Simon?" I froze, not certain that I'd heard what I'd just heard. "Of course. I'd love to," I managed to stutter out, hoping it hadn't been my imagination. She took my hand and guided me toward one of the open doors to the outside. Mr. Gere, our homeroom teacher, was beside it. He smiled at both of us, said he'd see us Monday morning, then warned us to be careful in the dark. At least I think that's what he said, as all I could really notice was Michelle's hand in mine. Michelle lived only two blocks away from the school, so it wasn't a long walk to her home, but neither of us seemed to be in much of a hurry. It probably took us three times as long as it usually took her to walk from the school to her house. We talked about little things on the way: schoolwork and movies, books and sports. By the time we finally reached the hedges around her house, I didn't know what else to say. As we approached the gate between the hedges leading up to her house, she suddenly changed direction and pulled me into a little nook surrounded by tall, leafy bushes. Then she kissed me. If you ever watch TV or read a book, it's always the guy who starts the kiss, but I didn't mind much and went along with her. Her strong tongue pushed through my lips and into my mouth as it gracefully searched for my own. I gave it a little nibble with my teeth and felt her giggle under her breath. Sucking in my tongue into her mouth, she returned the nibble. I'd read about and seen French kissing before, but actually experiencing it was something else. It inspired a kind of hunger as we slowly tried to eat each other's lips and tongues. I'd always wondered what it would taste like to taste somebody else's tongue. It was indescribable, but powerful and pleasurable. We both finally had to stop and could hear each other panting for breath in the near darkness of the nook. Neither of us said anything, but as soon as I could breathe normally again, I reached out for her and felt her eagerly respond. This time I used more than just my lips and tongue as I slowly ran my hands down her back and ended up gently cupping her ass in my hands. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I felt her giggle again. Then I jumped as I felt her own hands start to run down my back in reciprocation. After giving my ass a squeeze, our lips still locked together, her right hand slipped around and cupped the front of my jeans. Gently massaging the lump there, we both let out weak groans as we sucked on each other's faces. Then, giving me a sudden single peck on the lips, she said, "See you Monday," and rushed around the corner and up the walk to her house. I stood there, trembling, catching my breath, and hoping I hadn't done anything to drive her away. I thought about it but couldn't find anything really wrong, and she had seemed happy enough, if a bit rushed. Stepping out of the nook, I started to head home when I noticed that the front of my jeans were wet. I had had an orgasm when she had been squeezing me through my jeans and hadn't even noticed it. Maybe she'd felt that and ran off. I hope that hadn't been it. As I started the long, uncomfortably sticky walk home, it finally dawned on me. For the first time, it had been somebody else's hand that had made me cum. Even if it had been through thick denim, it had been Michelle's hand that had done it. I was extremely cheerful all the way home and couldn't wait until Monday.I looked down at two small feminine hands and arms joined together just below my chest. Gulping nervously and taking a deep breath, I felt two large soft objects squeezing into my back, and immediately felt an answering lump begin in my front. "Michelle?" "Did you invite someone else tonight too?" she whispered into my right ear. I was very much enjoying the sensation of her arms around me and her breasts cushioning my back, but had a better idea. "I like this, Michelle, but it'd be even better if I turned around." She released me with a laugh and slowly spun me around. "I think so too, but it's getting a bit crowded for that right now." I hadn't noticed, but the early show had ended and the small crowd had begun to leave the theater. Grabbing Michelle's hand, I pulled her with me against the wall to get out of their way as we waited for a chance to go inside. At the door, she headed toward the ticket counter, but I told her I'd already bought us tickets. "I don't know about that. I'd prefer to pay my own way." "When I ask you out, I pay," I informed her. "When you ask me out, you can pay." She thought about that for a second before smiling back in agreement. "Okay, but I'll keep you to that promise." That felt pretty good to me. It almost sounded like a guarantee that she was going to ask me out sometime. "Where do you want to sit?" I asked her as we entered the hallway to the theater. It wasn't very crowded, and it didn't look like there was going to be many people showing up. "Come on," she said, pulling me with her into the back row of seats. It was pretty dark, even with the house lights still on, and I barely managed not to trip over the empty drink containers and popcorn boxes on the floor before she stopped, and we sat down in the middle two seats. "You want anything to eat or drink?" I asked. "I could go get us something." I could still see that smile, even in the dim light, as she shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Why don't we just sit and enjoy the quiet before the movie starts?" I was all for that. Here we were in a near-empty theater, sitting in the middle of the back row in the semi-darkness. I couldn't have arranged it better myself if I'd tried. Then it dawned on my thick head that I hadn't arranged anything. I'd asked Michelle to the movies, but the choice and everything else had been her decision. This looked like it was going to be a good night. A few other people had entered the theater since we had sat down and had looked to be moving toward our area but veered off when they noticed we were already there. I noticed that they had all been in pairs too. When the lights finally turned out and the coming attractions trailer started, I found that we had the entire back two rows to ourselves. Feeling confident, I slowly inched my hand down the arm of the chair until I was almost touching her, then slipped down an inch further until I felt warm, soft bare skin. I hadn't really paid attention to what Michelle had been wearing when she showed up. I just remembered that she was beautiful, and I was scared to death, but it came to me that she'd had a sweater and a knee-length skirt on. As I gently rubbed the soft skin with my hand, I felt her hand slide down and begin to knead my own knee through my pants. The coming attractions had finally ended, and the first scene of the movie before the opening credits started, not that I was paying much attention to the movie. "Look," I heard Michelle's mouth close to my ear whisper to me, and she pointed cautiously toward a couple three seats in front of us. Watching with her, I watched a couple only a few years older than us, their faces glued together and gently moving over each other. "Wow!" I whispered back to Michelle, turning my head to find her face still so close to me that I could feel her breath as she exhaled. Moving forward, I inched myself closer until I could just feel her lips touching my own. "I guess we're not the only ones here tonight," I more felt than heard her say. Slowly reaching out with my tongue, I followed the contour of her lips, from the left corner, around the top lip to the right corner, then back along her bottom lip to where I had started. All the while, I gently rubbed circles with my left hand on her bare right knee. "Hmmmmm," I felt and heard her hum softly, then felt her own tongue searching out for my own. Then she suddenly pulled back to sit upright and looked at the screen. "I always like this part." Disappointed, I looked to the screen just as the picture of Bond firing down the gun barrel faded away, and the opening titles began. The opening song began, it had been played so many times on the radio the last month to become familiar, and then the slightly obscured but obviously nude bodies of women dancing and running flitted tantalizingly across the screen. "When I was little, I always wanted to be one of those women," Michelle whispered to me. "I'd play James Bond themes in my room and try to dance and weave to the music." "I'd like to see that sometime," I whispered back to her. She laughed quietly and answered, "I don't know. It seems kind of embarrassing now." "If you really want to do it in a few years, I can't see them turning you down. They make one of these every couple of years. All you have to do is show up at the studio, and if they don't beg you to do it, they'd have to be a bunch of blind idiots." Michelle was still laughing slightly as I felt her mouth come back to mine. Coming back up for a breath, she whispered, "I don't know about that, but ask me sometime, and I might just dance for you." As the movie continued, we alternated between trying to swallow each other and taking short breaks to watch bits of the movie. Each time we started again, my hand inched further and further up her skirt, her skin getting warmer and softer with every little bit. "Oh my god," Michelle said, pulling up after one session. I thought I must be better than I thought until she gently shook her head toward the aisle. Two latecomers had joined the crowd. They had sat in the row in front of us but only a few seats in from the aisle. Like the couple in front of us, they had their faces glued together. It was interesting watching them make out, but it took me a moment in the almost darkness of the theater to discover what had excited Michelle so much. "They're both girls," I whispered to Michelle, then froze, hoping they hadn't overheard the comment. If they had, they ignored it and just kept doing what they were doing. "God," Michelle repeated as I felt her own grasping hand raise up on my leg almost to my crotch. I was a bit surprised at her reaction, but pleasantly so. As we continued to watch the new entertainment, our wandering hands finally reached their goals. I felt her grab and start to squeeze my hardened cock through my pants, while I felt a warm, velvety softness surrounded by tight little curls of hair. Again, I froze. 'Shit,' I thought. Michelle isn't wearing any panties. Our faces were glued together when I finally noticed, and as I froze, I felt her laugh against me. "I thought I'd give you your own surprise tonight." As I explored the new environment I had discovered, I felt her tremble slightly and heard a sharp little gasp as I found a little lump of hardness among the wet softness. I'd read enough Penthouse forums and seen enough pictures to mentally follow my hand as it made its search. The little knob was her clitoris, but just to make sure, I lightly circled my finger on it and felt her gasp again, and her hand clutch harder on my cock. Not wanting to waste any of that unusual feeling, I reached to my pants with my free hand and undid the button and fly, first gently pulling Michelle's hand away, then pushing it back down the front of my underwear until I could feel her own skin on my cock and all balls. I wasn't sure how far to take this and was a bit worried about the usher seeing us. I had left my cock in my underwear and had slipped her hand inside, but that had been too much for the already stretched fabric, and everything ended up popping out over the elastic waistband. Our mouths clutched together, our tongues diving back and forth between them, I felt her start to stroke my cock and tease my balls as my own hand slid up and down her slit, my damp thumb circling around her clit, every few circles gently brushing up against it. Her slight trembling started to slowly increase in speed, while at the same time, her movements on my cock became harder and faster. Feeling my own orgasm start to build up, I felt brave and slipped a finger deep inside her and heard her stifle a groan in response. Suddenly, I felt her stiffen and clutch even tighter at my penis. That was just too much for me, and I shot out all over her hand and the back of the seat in front of me as I bit my own lip to stop myself from yelling. "Hmmmm," Michelle hummed a contented sigh to me as I felt her hand release my shrinking penis. My own was still gently stroking up and down in the wet pool under her skirt. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" she asked with a quiet laugh as she moved her hand in front of her and stared at the sticky mess that covered it. "I guess it must have been." For a minute, she just seemed to stare at the gooey cum covering her fingers and hand. I somewhat hoped that she would just stick her tongue out and lick it clean, and was a bit disappointed when she pulled a tissue out of her purse with her clean hand and started to wipe it away. I've had been reading way too many of these types of stories lately. She leaned her head over onto my shoulder contentedly before handing me another clean tissue to wipe myself, and the back of the chair in front of me, off. Afterward, my hand still gently clutching her under the skirt, we just leaned peacefully against each other and watched the movie for a bit. A little while later, I felt her head turn toward the two girls again.They had started going at it again. I couldn't see what their hands were doing to each other, but could well imagine interesting possibilities. For a minute, I watched Michelle watching the two girls and noticed that she was getting excited by them. I had discovered that to easily gauge a girl's mood, you just have to have your hand plastered to her pussy and a finger deep inside it. It works as a kind of mood thermometer. "Have you ever kissed another girl?" I just had to ask. She pulled slightly back before she sighed and slumped back against me. "Well, just Kathy, and that more just to practice than anything else." I felt muscles tighten interestingly around my finger, and the dampness begin to increase. In my own case, I also felt my cock begin to harden again. It had never really gone soft - try and see if you can get any teenage boy's cock to go soft when he has his hand buried in a beautiful girl's cunt - but now it was working its way back to full hardness. "Who do you think taught me how to French kiss?" I turned my head and pressed my open mouth to hers for a minute as our tongues waggled back and forth together. Finally pulling out, I said, "Please thank her for me. She must have been a very good teacher." I felt more than saw Michelle blush as her face heated up even further than it already was. Then I also felt her hand snake back down to my underwear - I had tucked myself back in afterward but hadn't done my pants or fly back up - and pull out my hard cock again. Taking this as encouragement, I started to really dig in into her wet pussy, slipping another finger inside and jerking them in and out as I rubbed whatever the rest of my hand could touch. Chapter 5 --------- It had been a long night for me. After the movie, we'd taken the bus back to the high school, that was the closest the city routes came to Michelle's house, and I walked her home. We paused again in the nook of bushes near the gate for a long, wet kiss before we said good night. That night, I slept more peacefully than I could ever remember, with only a few wet dreams of Michelle, her long red hair wrapped around us to keep me company. In the morning, I took my time showering, dressing, and eating my breakfast. My mother commented that I sure looked happy today, and my older brother asked how the movie last was. 'Great,' I answered him. What I could remember seeing of it, anyway. It was a twenty-minute walk from my house to the high school, and I took my time that morning. My insecurities about my relationship with Michelle had completely dissolved. It's amazing what having your hand buried in a girl's wet pussy for two hours can do to your confidence. This morning, it was Michelle who was waiting for me outside her locker. She smiled that Jell-O smile that melted my insides as she saw me heading toward her. "I had fun last night." "Me too." "Are you busy Friday night?" she asked me. "No, no," I answered quickly back. "For you, I'm free anytime." That hadn't taken long. I knew from what she had said last night that she was going to ask me out this time, but I just wasn't sure I could wait until Friday before seeing her again. "Great. We can go to the festival downtown together." Our city is a bit of a tourist trap, and all year round there were events going on to bring in the suckers..., I mean tourists. It sounded great to me. Going anywhere together with Michelle sounded great, but I was hoping for something a little more private. "I'd love to go with you." The bell for first class rang. We didn't have Math together, Tuesday's first class for me, so had to go different ways. "We can discuss the details later," she said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before she ran off. God, it was going to be a long, hard four days. It hadn't been that bad. We never got time alone together for those days, but I saw quite a bit of Michelle, and she teased and hinted subtly about what she had planned for Friday. It was sort of fun in a frustrating and agonizing way. It was agreed this time that I'd pick her up at her place, and we could walk the few kilometers together. Even with all the hints, I wasn't sure exactly what Michelle had in mind, but had decided to be prepared in any case. On my way home Friday, I stopped off at a drugstore, for privacy's sake not the one I usually use, and bought a box of condoms. It had been a troublesome and embarrassing experience. First, I had to surreptitiously find the aisle where they were sold, then try to find the best ones. I'd never known there were so many brands and different types, so I closed my eyes and grabbed the first ones my hand touched. Paying for them was even harder. Friday's at four PM is not exactly a quiet time in most drugstores, and I had to wait in a fairly long line-up before getting to the cash register. Then when I got there, the cashier, a girl who looked only a few years older than me, gave a knowing smile before ringing up the purchase and accepting my money. 'Do you want a bag for your condoms?' she finally asked loudly enough for everybody else in line behind me to hear. I didn't answer her, just stuffed the little box in my pocket and ran out the door. I must have covered a full kilometer before I finally slowed down enough to start to catch my breath. If I'd timed the run, I wouldn't have been in the least surprised if I'd broken some world record. 'Michelle,' I thought to myself. 'Please be worth all this trouble.' When I got to Michelle's at 6:00 to pick her up, she pulled me inside to meet her parents. I had seen them before at a few school outings, but had never talked to them before. It was a thankfully short, but excruciating moment. 'Sorry about that,' Michelle apologized as we started the long walk together. 'But they wanted to see who it was I was going with.' 'No problem,' I told her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer to me. 'They were just being parental. It's their job.' It hadn't taken that long to walk downtown, at least I hadn't really noticed the time as Michelle and I talked, my arm around her the whole time. As I'd been afraid of, it was pretty crowded. There were bands playing every couple of blocks, and crowds of locals and tourists gawking at the shows and performers that the fair had brought out. The streets in the center had been blocked off to cars, and the streets were full of noisy dancing people. Michelle pulled me in among them and began to move to the music. As I'd said earlier, I wasn't really much of a dancer, but I ate up the sight of Michelle swaying and gyrating to the music. "Michelle!" a high voice managed to break through the racket to get our attention. It was Kathy..., and her boyfriend Steve. I haven't really described Kathy, but she is really a fox. She's a lot shorter than me with a thin, willowy body that she hasn't completely grown into yet. I had stared at Kathy a few times, but nowhere near as often as I watched Michelle. She had long, blond, almost yellow hair, that she'd done up in a ponytail that hung over the front of her right shoulder and down the side of her small breasts. Where Michelle was stacked, Kathy's chest seemed more delicate and budding. All in all, she was damn cute. Kathy shared most of the same classes that Michelle and I did, and we had talked a few times and shared a few jokes. She was a very nice girl and Michelle's best friend at school. "Hi, Simon," she said to me, giving a shy, knowing smile before she turned back to Michelle. 'God, had Michelle told her about what had happened to us in the last week?' I thought. I would have been a bit shocked, but not very surprised, if she had. They'd always been close at school. I could almost always find them together, sometimes with a few of their other friends, talking and giggling about some secrets that us boys were never privy to. Michelle and Kathy hugged each other that way girls do and started asking each other what they'd seen and if they'd been to this or that yet. Steve just hovered in the background over Kathy's shoulder, watching Michelle in a way that was starting to get on my nerves. I know every guy that saw Michelle stared at her, but to do it while Kathy was there was a bit much. He was a year older than me, and it really showed. He was a good ten centimeters taller than me and a few kilos heavier. I wasn't really intimidated by that, but at the time, I wasn't about to tell him off in front of the girls. Michelle made a date to meet Kathy later in front of the McDonald's, then said good-bye as she pulled me after her. "'OOOOwww," she said with a shiver of disgust. "I can't stand that guy." "Steve?" I asked. I hadn't been sure she had noticed the way he looked at her, but I guess she had. "He is a creep, isn't he. The way he looked at you, I just wanted to shove his face into the asphalt." Michelle laughed in agreement. "Yeah. I just wish Kathy would dump him. I've told her enough times what I think of him, but she just doesn't want to listen. He doesn't treat her very good at all." We both watched over our shoulders until Kathy's shining ponytail and the creep had been lost in the thick crowd. "Come on. Let's go get something to eat. I'm starving," Michelle finally said, pulling me toward an outdoor food cart surrounded by people. It was a bit embarrassing, but she forced me to keep my promise and let her pay for everything that night. I got a few curious stares when she pulled her wallet out of her purse and paid for the drinks and hot-dogs we got from the cart, but I did my best to ignore them. It was a pleasant, if noisy, evening. We listened and watched and danced until we were too tired to do any more. Just before 9:00, Michelle dragged me to the McDonald's to wait for Kathy and Steve, but after fifteen minutes of waiting, we gave up on them. Michelle was sure it was Steve's fault - Kathy never was late for anything - I agreed that she was probably right. By 10:00, the crowd had reached its peak.If there was anybody else in the city who wasn't already there, it would have come as a surprise to me. Michelle pulled me along with her as we skirted the largest sections until we reached the streets surrounding the festival. The streets were completely empty of traffic and people, but not of cars. Every legal spot had a car in it, and quite a few illegal ones were filled up too. The towing companies would have had a field day if the city hadn't warned them to only tow cars that were a real hazard to public safety. Nobody wanted to scare away the tourists. "Let's go for a walk in the park," Michelle said as she led me down the dark streets. Another thing our city was famous for was its picturesque and green landscapes. Trees grew on almost every street, and parks, both little and large, were scattered between the residential and commercial districts. The one she was willingly dragging me to was one of the biggest and most tree-covered. It was one of the few that could still be called natural, as most of the trees were older than the city itself, and the rough pathways running through it made it seem more of a nature hike than a park. "It's pretty dark in here," I commented as I tripped over an exposed root for the fifth time. "We'd better be careful." "Oh, I'm sure you can protect me from all those fierce wild animals hunting the woods," Michelle said, giving me a hand up again. "And it's not like we have to worry about muggers. This isn't New York." As I just got to my feet, she gave a sudden extra jerk, and I plowed into her, almost knocking us both over this time. "Anyway, you can do lots of things in the dark that you can't do in the daytime." Taking the hint, my body tight against hers, I pulled her even closer until her soft bulges met my hard one. "What do you have in mind?" With that, she plastered her face to mine and started her hands roaming my body. In return, I sucked her tongue into my mouth and started to do the same. She was dressed very similarly as she had been on Monday, except her skirt was a bit longer, going almost all the way to the ground this time. Cupping an ass cheek with my left hand, it felt to me like she hadn't worn panties this time either. That was probably why the skirt was longer. With all that racing around and dancing we did at the festival, she would have been another attraction if she'd worn that sexy short thing she had to the movies. Lifting my right hand, I cupped a breast through her sweater. No bra either. This looked like it was going to be a very interesting night. Rubbing the sweater gently, I could feel the nipple harden through the material. Monday, with my hand buried in her pussy for the entire movie, I hadn't had much of a chance to touch those beautiful soft pillows under her sweater. Enjoying the feel through the sweater, I thought it would be even better if I could actually touch skin, so I slipped up the side of the sweater and cupped her right breast in my hand. God, she was stacked. I could feel her hard nipple digging into the center of my hand as it cupped the entire breast. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I felt her hum with pleasure as the palm of my hand rubbed her nipple. Our faces still glued together, I used the vibration of her groans and hums to try to find what she enjoyed best as I gently tugged and rubbed her breast. At the same time, I felt her hands move to my waist and start to undo my pants. The button was a bit of a problem for her in the near-total darkness, but the fly flew open easily as she touched the zipper at the top, as it was already under a great deal of strain from the inside. Together, her hands pulled down both the pants and my underwear until they reached my knees. I would have completely stepped out of them if she had wanted me to, but I felt a bit safer having the ability to quickly pull them up if anybody discovered us. We were in a public park in the middle of a big city, after all. Her hands now free, she found a good use for them as one gently cupped and squeezed my balls, and the other jerked at my erection. I didn't know quite what she had in mind for that night, but I wanted to really be inside of her when I came. Unfortunately, it was not to be, as the wonderful job she was doing on my cock quickly drove me over the edge. As she felt my balls begin to tighten, she aimed my penis to the side and continued to quickly jerk me. I let out a loud groan - I really didn't care if there was anybody else around to hear me - and shot out jets of sperm onto the grass and flowers by the trail we were standing on. "That should make good fertilizer," Michelle said as she pulled our mouths apart. I could sense that Jello smile now and felt my stomach quiver back at her in agreement. "Now I think you should last a little bit longer next time." "Next time?" I asked, still feeling weak from the orgasm. Hobbling along as best I could with my pants around my knees, I followed her off the path to a small, neatly trimmed plot of grass. Letting go of me, my hand slipped from out of her sweater as she lowered herself down to the ground. "Yes. I wanted our first time to last more than a couple of seconds." I liked the sound of that and hoped she meant what it sounded like. The little plot was lighter than the dark around it, the moon illuminating everything enough so I could actually see as Michelle reached down and slowly pulled her skirt up until it was bunched at her waist. I guess she wanted to have the ability for a quick retreat if we were caught too. I just stared down at the beautiful sight as I felt my slightly softened penis rush to get hard again. Then she used the hand that wasn't holding the skirt at her waist to slip her sweater up and over the top of her breasts. "Do you like me, Simon?" "Michelle, you are absolutely the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I truthfully told her as I looked down at her as she stretched out on the grass. "Then I want you to fuck me." I was a little surprised to hear her use the 'f word,' but enthusiastic about the idea. I almost just let myself jump onto her before I remembered the condoms in my jacket pocket. "Uh, Michelle... yes, but I was wondering about..., I bought some condoms, ... and I wondered..." Michelle let out a little laugh and reached over for her purse. It was a marvelous sight to watch her breasts distort and wiggle as she reached for it. She pulled a small foil package from her purse and handed it up to me. "Save them for another time. I get to pay for everything on this date." Looking at the little package, I tore it open and emptied the plastic piece inside it into my hand. Stretching it lightly between my fingers, I looked down at my cock and then uncertainly at the condom. Michelle let out a little laugh again and took it from my fumbling hands. "Here, let me do that for you." It felt almost magical as Michelle's small hands grabbed my cock and unrolled the plastic quickly over the top of it. I could tell that this wasn't the first time she had done that, but I didn't care right now if she had been boinking the entire school band on a regular basis. I lowered myself until I was on my hands and knees over her, then let myself drop lightly onto her. I felt her hand reach down and grab my cock and aim it in the right direction. "God, I'm so wet," Michelle murmured. "I really need you in me right now." The giving guy that I was, I let her have her way as I slowly pushed my body and felt myself go inside of her. As our groins hit each other, I realized I was entirely in Michelle. Looking down between those incredible breasts, all I could see was one mass of short curls as our pubic hair entangled itself. "Yes," Michelle whispered at me, and I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Lifting my head up, I looked right into her face, then briefly touched my lips to hers. I felt her hips gently move, and let out a groan of pleasure myself. I'd read a lot about how this moment was supposed to be, but reading is never quite the same as experiencing. I felt my own hips then respond reflexively with their own thrusting motion and heard Michelle return her own pleasurable groan. "You like that?" I asked, and felt her grip me tighter as she repeated the 'yes' she had just said. Her soft breasts cushioning my own chest, I supported myself as best as I could on my arms and knees as I continued to slowly pull out and ram back into that velvety cunt. I could hear both of our breathing start to speed up, and naturally responded by increasing the speed of my thrusts. Michelle was panting in labored gasps by the time I felt my balls tighten, and I emptied myself inside her. For another minute, I continued to pump my hips until my penis had shrunk almost back to normal size and slipped out of her hole. I would have liked to just keep going, but even at fifteen, I couldn't orgasm more than twice in a five-minute period. Leaning forward, I kissed her gently again, then shifted my weight so I could lie on my side next to her. "That was the most wonderful experience I've ever had," I told her as my hand reached up to slowly touch the nipple of the breast I hadn't gotten to the first time. "Hmmmmm," she hummed to me, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. "That was just..., hmmmmm," she said, repeating the sound. It almost sounded like a cat purring. I felt the nipple respond and engorge to my touch, so I gently started to tweak it. "That feels nice, too," Michelle said to me as she turned her head to look at me. "But we should do something about that." I followed her gaze down to my condom-covered penis as it rubbed against her thigh. I reached down to slip it off, but stopped just before touching it. "What do I do with it?" I asked. I know that if I was strolling through the park and found a used condom by the path, I'd feel pretty nauseated. Pulling her purse to her again, Michelle pulled out a small plastic bag. "We can get rid of them on the way home later.""Gently stripping off the cum-filled condom, I quickly dumped it into the plastic bag. Then I jumped as I felt Michelle touch my cock and looked to see her wiping it off with a tissue from her purse. "Are you sure you're not part Boy Scout?" I asked her as I held the bag open for her to add the used tissue. She laughed again. "No, I just like preparing for everything." At that, I leaned forward and kissed her again while my hand pinched and kneaded her breast. "That wasn't the first time for me," she told me. "But I really wish it was." "I kind of figured that out when you knew how to fit the condom on me so easily." She snorted lightly. "That I can do, but I haven't done that many times either. Just with Jay a couple of times when we were dating last year. But that didn't turn out too well." Leaning my head on my elbow, I listened as she told me about her and Jay. They hadn't gone out that long, but she had been extremely horny at the time. When Jay had made a move on her, she almost jumped at the chance. It had been more than a bit of a disappointment. Jay's idea of sex was to shove into her, move once or twice, and then shoot off. The only thing she got out of it was the knowledge of how to put a condom onto a penis. I kissed her gently after that, internally cursing Jay. The guy was obviously an asshole for having treated Michelle like that. Pulling away from her, I looked at her and asked if it was all right if I did something I've always wanted to do. She seemed a bit curious, but quickly said I could do what I wanted. Inching down slightly, I lowered my head and began to kiss her breast, then sucked in a nipple and used my lips and teeth to gently tug it. "Ohhhh, that you can do as much of as you like," Michelle added her agreement again. As I gently sucked one nipple then the other, something she had said earlier came back to me. 'Them,' she had said when she had given me the plastic bag to put the used condom in. Chapter 6 --------- I had been right about the 'Them.' It hadn't been long before Michelle slipped another condom on me. I now knew how to do it myself, but it felt better when she did it. For the second time, I took the bottom and Michelle took the top. The first time we had fucked, I wasn't sure how far she had really gone, but there was no doubt to me that she reached her peak that second time. The third time, she got on her hands and knees, and I entered her from behind, taking it slow and easy until we both went off together. By that time, it was after 11:00, and we decided we had better head back. Michelle's curfew had been set at 11, but her mom wouldn't mind so much as long as she got back before midnight. We didn't realize how much of a mess we had become until we got out of the park and back under the streetlights. Both of us were covered with grass stains, and I spent a few minutes picking little blades of grass out of Michelle's long hair as we walked. I was worried that it might get Michelle into trouble, but she assured me that her mother would be cool about it and probably not even mention her disheveled appearance. Her dad would probably explode if he saw her, but she was sure her mom could sneak her inside and by him before he got a good look. I dumped the little plastic bag and its gooey contents into the first trash can I could find. I was starting to really like that little nook outside Michelle's house as we said our good-byes. I told her I'd phone her tomorrow afternoon, and she said to make it tomorrow night because she had too much to do tomorrow. Then with a final delicious kiss, she ran off to try and sneak into her house. I phoned her at nine the next night, and we talked for about an hour. She said she'd had no problem getting inside, and had just got a little lecture from her mom to be careful what she did. I agreed with her that she definitely had the coolest mother there was. The entire phone call, she seemed excited about something, but when I asked her about it, she just told me to wait until Monday morning at school. She was planning something, but didn't want to tell me about it until she was sure she could do it. It sounded a bit ominous to me, and I hated a mystery, but thought I could hold out for the day and a half. "Simon, how would you like to spend spring break with me?" she asked me Monday morning in front of my locker. I was thrilled. Spending a week with Michelle would be a dream come true. I had been planning to go to a friend of mine's cabin for the break, but that I could get out of. His parents had a nice place by a lake out in the boonies, and I'd gone with them a couple of times, but that versus Michelle wasn't even a contest. "My parents were taking me and my little brother down to Florida. He wants to go to Disneyland." That didn't sound too bad to me. "But with all these reports and homework due right after the break, I don't think I could make it." I wasn't sure what she was talking about. Sure, most teachers assigned something to do during the break, but there wasn't anything that time-consuming that I knew of coming up. "So I asked my parents if it was all right if I stayed here when they left. I didn't want my school to suffer because I was going away, and Mikey was so looking forward to going to Disneyland. It took a while, but I convinced them. My mom was a big help. She'd said since my 16th birthday is less than a month away, I was old enough to look after myself. My dad put up a little bit of a fight, but she won him over." I stood frozen and stared at her. She had really been surprising me lately. "So do you want to come and stay with me for the break?" Five days with Michelle. Nine if I counted the weekend before and after. I was in heaven. "My mom just said no parties, and I was only allowed people over to study with." Michelle for nine days. "So? You want to come study some sex ed. with me?" It didn't take much coaxing from her. I told Ryan, my friend with the cabin by the lake, that I couldn't make the trip this time, but thanks for the offer. He was curious what was going to make me miss it, but I ducked around it. I wasn't about to tell him about Michelle and have it being blabbed all over the school. Ryan was my friend, but his brain was a sieve when it came to secrets. My mom, my parents were divorced, and my dad lived on the other side of the country, I told nothing. She was already thinking I was going with Ryan Saturday to his family's cabin, so I let her continue to think that. It wasn't really a lie. I just never informed her about my new plans. Instead, I just packed a backpack with clothes and the school books I'd need. I figured that I couldn't have sex with Michelle for nine straight days, and we'd probably have some time to study. It might make her mom happier if she ever found out. I also threw in a few things, like my collapsible fishing rod, that I'd usually bring with me to the lake just so my mom wouldn't get suspicious. Saturday - Day 1 ---------------- So Saturday morning at 9:00, I said good-bye to my mother and older brother, the only one of my siblings still living at home, and pretended to head off to Ryan's place. Instead, I headed to that park that Michelle and I had been at. It looked quite a bit different in the daytime, and I found a nice secluded bench and sat to wait. Michelle's family's flight didn't leave until 4:00, but they'd planned on leaving about 2:00 to go to the airport. Michelle would have gone with them, but since she didn't have her driver's license yet, and the bus trip to the airport was such a long one, she was going to say her good-byes from home. I waited until 2:30, just to be on the safe side, before going to her house. I knocked on the door and heard her quickly unlock it. "Honey, I'm home," I said, hoping to sound cool, then froze with my mouth wide open as I saw her standing in the open doorway. I felt my mouth starting to really water and quickly closed it before I started to drool on the welcome mat. "Do you like it?" Michelle asked me, already knowing the answer. "I borrowed it from my mother's closet, but I don't think she'll mind." My first thought was that Michelle's dad was certainly a lucky guy. My second was to rush inside and then close the door before somebody on the street saw her and she got arrested for indecent exposure. It was that kind of outfit. I didn't know the name for it, but it was some sort of lingerie. Lacy and mostly transparent, it hugged Michelle's curves tightly, accentuating her natural assets to their fullest. Michelle's large breasts were almost falling out, it was so tight, and her large chunky nipples could be seen poking through the thin material toward me. The crotch of the one-piece outfit was so tight I could see both of the lips of her vagina and the little button of her clit poking through the already dampening material. "If you don't like it, I could always take it off," Michelle said coyly, watching my reaction. That was too much for me, and I dropped my backpack with a loud thump behind me and pulled her to me. After coming up for air, I told her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world, but taking it off was her choice. Personally, I could be happy just sitting for the rest of the day and looking at her. "But that wouldn't be any fun," she told me after another wet kiss. "And we're supposed to be studying, remember?" "Right. Sexual Education. And I always try to get an 'A' in every class." "Come on, then," she said as she pulled me away from the door and into the living room. "Let's start today's lesson." I watched as she sensually removed the outfit, first gently pulling one breast out the top, then the other, and then slowly lowering it to the floor and kicking it away. "My god, you're beautiful." I looked at her over and over until my eyes stopped on the small mound of pubic hair between her legs."It had been mostly shaved away except for a little heart-shaped clump of fine red curls. "Do you like it?" Michelle asked me. "Kathy shaved hers like this and I asked her how she did it." "Kathy shaved your pussy?" I asked as I gazed worshipfully at it. "No!" she said, flushing a lovely shade of pink. "She just told me what to do. I did it myself." "You did a lovely job," I said as I reached over and ran my hand through the soft little curls. "Your turn now," she insisted as she started to unbutton my shirt. I started to help, but she told me she wanted to do it herself. My cock had been hard already, just seeing her, but by the time all my clothes had been neatly folded on a chair, I was afraid that it would explode as soon as she touched it. "It really looks like you're happy to see me," she said as she stared down at my penis thrusting up toward her. "It looks so big." My cock isn't huge by any standards, but I liked the compliment. I've measured it a number of times, and its average size when erect is about 16 centimeters, give or take a centimeter depending on how excited I am. 16 centimeters or about six inches is small if I can believe all the stories I've read, but it gives me enough problems as it is, so I really didn't want it any bigger. I can't understand how anybody with a foot-long cock could survive high school. I know when I get an erection in my pants, it feels so uncomfortable and sometimes painful that I can't move and certainly can't walk around. I'm sure a foot-long one would have snapped in two long ago. Michelle reached down and touched me, and I felt my cock jump, but I was glad to find that I hadn't shot all over her yet. "I've never really seen one in the light before." As I looked at her looking at me in the full light of the living room, I realized that I had never seen her in the light like this before either. The theater had been too dark to really see anything, and in the park, I could just see general shapes and shadows. I wanted to get a good look at her too. "My god, you're beautiful," I repeated, and saw her flush pink again. She was so busy looking me over that she certainly didn't take any offense as I devoured her body with my eyes. For such a tall girl, she had such tiny, delicate feet. She was in excellent shape, and I followed her leg muscles up to her knees and then up her thighs, where her hips started to expand and round themselves. Her stomach was flat but not overly muscled, and her cute little belly button stuck out slightly. She was an outie. Reaching out with my hand, I lightly touched it and felt her gasp and shiver in response. Her shoulders were her only overly muscled area; her arms were fairly thin and delicate looking, but probably needed to be to support those huge mounds on her front that seemed to defy gravity as if they were floating on air. As I've said before, Michelle was stacked. I could cup one of her breasts in my hand, which I did, but to really get a good hold of one, I needed both hands, and even then, there was a lot of flesh overflowing them. "You enjoying yourself?" Michelle asked with a giggle. I just nodded back to her as I touched and prodded the flesh before me. "Then I guess you don't want to fuck me." I looked up at her, straight into those lovely green eyes, and said, "Anytime." I moved away to head toward the pack I'd left by the front door, but she caught my arm and stopped me. "Where are you going?" "Well...I brought those condoms I never used. I thought they might be needed." She shook her head, and I smiled as her long hair danced around her. "Uh-uh. Not this time." That was when she told me what she'd done. It seems that the day after we'd gone to the movies, she'd made an appointment with her family doctor, but couldn't get into to see him until Saturday, the day after our date at the festival. He'd been her doctor her whole life and was getting pretty old, he was nearly fifty, but he'd always been understanding about any problem she had. She'd been nervous about asking him, but he'd just talked to her for a few minutes, then wrote out a prescription for birth control pills. "I'm supposed to tell you that he thinks you're a very lucky young man," she added, still more than a little pink. "I was hoping to be on them before the festival, but couldn't get an appointment any earlier, and I was too horny to wait any longer." "You mean...?" "Yup, no more condoms." I pulled her to me and kissed her, and felt all that bare skin as our bodies came together. When our groins touched, we both let out simultaneous groans of pleasure but didn't let each other's mouths go. "How do you want to do it?" "I don't know," she said uncertainly. "I just want to do it." Smiling at her, I dropped to the plush carpet and lay down on my back. "You get on top. You seemed to like it that way the last time." "Yeah, that was great," she admitted, flushed now with more than just embarrassment. Stepping over me, with one foot on each side, she squatted down, then slipped onto her knees. "Hmmmm," she let out that same purring sound as the first little bit of my cock entered that slippery hole between her legs. Then she collapsed, letting me push all the way inside her, and started wiggling and gyrating her whole body. I almost shot when her wet vagina first touched me, the sensation was so much better this time without that layer of plastic between us, but managed to hold out for twenty or thirty seconds before I gasped, and my hips started to jerk up and down uncontrollably. Gasping for breath, I kept pumping as I squirted inside her. Neither of us slowed down, and my cock didn't soften any. If anything, it felt harder than it had ever been, as we continued to thrash around. Looking up at her, I could see her breasts bobbing up and down and left and right, her head thrown back. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was wide open as she sucked in gasps of air. I doubt it was more than a few more minutes before I felt her cunt muscles start to spasm and clutch my cock even tighter. She let out a long scream that set me off for a second time, and I felt my balls tighten and the cum pour out of me into her. After a moment, she collapsed forward onto me, her nipples pleasantly digging into me as she lay sweaty and gasping for air. "That was a good one," she finally managed to say when she caught her breath. Kissing her back in agreement, I just hugged our wet bodies together until we felt strong enough to move again. Both of us wobbly getting to our feet, we laughed at each other until our legs felt they could support us. Then, completely naked, a mixture of our juices running down the inside of Michelle's legs and my cock, she gave me the grand tour of the house. Her family was definitely a bit better off than mine, but she didn't rub it in or show off. She just wanted me to know where I'd be living for the next week and a bit. She'd shut all the blinds and curtains in the house before I'd arrived. "I can't see us wearing much the whole week, and I don't like the neighbors THAT much," she explained. There was the kitchen and dining room, which except for the size and quality of the furnishings didn't look that different than mine. There was her father's study and her mother's art room, she liked to dabble at pottery and painting from time to time, and the downstairs bathroom and the laundry room. I'd already seen the hallway and the living room, but couldn't even remember what color the carpet was in there - just that it was soft on the back. She pulled me up the stairs into her parents' bedroom. The bed was enormous, more than big enough for two people, and right over the top of it was a skylight almost the same size. That was the only window Michelle hadn't covered up; you'd have to be flying to be able to see inside. "Your house probably gets buzzed by helicopters a lot," I said and got the sweet-sounding laugh back I'd been trying for. Her parents had their own bathroom. Their own HUGE bathroom. It was almost the same size as the bedroom itself. One side had a wall of closed cupboards with a double sink next to it and what looked like two toilets next to each other. "That's a bidet," Michelle informed me, pressing on a lever. I watched as water sprayed up from the center and then splashed back down inside the bowl. Staring somewhat fascinated by the device, I finally said, "Your mother must spend a lot of time in here." Michelle let out a series of little giggles in return, then pulled me to the other side of the room. One corner had blind-covered windows and a huge bathtub underneath it. It was big enough for quite a few people. "It's a Jacuzzi bath," Michelle said, bending over to show me the vents that swirled the water around when the bath was full. I didn't get a very good look at them since my eyes were glued to her round ass as she bent over. "My parents sometimes like to have baths together." That comment gained a look from me, and I saw that it had made her flush that pretty pink again. The other corner was a wood-paneled walk-in shower. Looking up, I could see a number of shower heads pointing down and another group of them running down one of the walls. A small bench sat across from the wall heads, right at the point where they all aimed. "You must have very clean parents." Michelle flushed pink again, I was coming to love that color, before pulling me back outside, then through the bedroom and back into the hall. "That's my brother's bedroom," she said, pointing toward a closed door. "I wouldn't even go in there at the best of times." Then she showed me another bathroom, this one much more normal-looking. It had a normal-sized tub/shower combination and the usual other bathroom attachments. "What, no bidet?" I had to ask her. She just laughed again and pointed out the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. Then came the ultimate. "And this is my bedroom," she said, pulling me into the last room upstairs."So this is what heaven looks like," I whispered. She must have heard me, and I got that pink color back, but this time it was added to that Jello smile that so made me weak. It felt a bit like how I felt when I had tried to get up from the carpet downstairs. "Wow," I said, and really meant it. The room was something else. The ceiling was a sky blue, and the carpet was the green color of grass. The exterior wall was one big photograph taken from somewhere in the mountains with lots of trees, up-thrusting peaks, and a lake in the center, with large water-colored curtains covering what I guessed to be the window in the center of that. The other walls were covered in the usual girl pictures and paraphernalia, stuffed toys and the like. There was a dressing table and mirror with a bench slipped underneath it, and a large chest of drawers with an assortment of small porcelain and glass creatures on top of it. Walking to the dresser, I lifted a delicately crafted unicorn up and peered at it. "I used to collect unicorns when I was a little girl," she said, taking the little beast from me and carefully putting it exactly in the place I had gotten it from. "So that's where you must have got that liking for long things pointing at you from." She stared at me and noticed that the unicorn horn was not the only thing pointing at her anymore. Taking her hand, I pulled her with me and stopped at the side of her bed. "So this must be your bed then." She was still looking at me. "It looks nice and soft. How are the springs?" She broke out in a long string of uncontrollable giggling before I pulled her to me and added, "Want to try them out." Still giggling, she lay on her back on the bed and pulled me down toward her. Later that night, we lay together in her parents' bed. Her own had worked perfectly, but if we wanted to have anything but great sex on it, we needed something bigger. I could see the stars in the clear night sky through the skylight above us and could feel the gentle breeze of Michelle's breath on my cheek as she slept peacefully next to me. We'd talked for a long time after we'd made love, and both had gotten a good laugh at how we had finally gotten together. I'd told her about the little accident with my bag and her ass, and she'd told me how she'd spent two hours the day before the festival searching nearby parks before she had found the spot she had eventually brought me to afterwards. Sexual Education lessons seemed to be going very well. All together, we must have had sex at least ten times that afternoon and night, and the soreness in my penis echoed it. That means we had fucked at least eight times and made love twice. That was the first lesson we learned together that day. That fucking and making love were two different things. Fucking was quick and aggressive, and by the time we were through, we were both always exhausted and dripping sweat. Making love was a slow process where we joined our bodies together until we both exploded in ecstasy. Afterward, we just held each other and enjoyed the sweet aftertaste sensations. I have to admit I certainly loved to fuck Michelle, and she returned the sentiment enthusiastically, but we both agreed that making love was even better, and the explosion of orgasms felt even more intense and lasted longer. As I felt myself drifting to sleep, Michelle's arm draped over me, her breasts crushed against my chest, I realized that I had learned something else that night. There was no other sensation better than falling asleep with a warm, beautiful girl entangled with you. Chapter 7 Sunday Day 2 I woke up the next morning as I felt Michelle shift from the bed and go into the bathroom. When she came back up, I was sitting crossed-legged on the bed watching her. Her hair was a bit of a frazzled mess, and she looked like she could use a shower, after yesterday I'm sure we both needed one, but she was still achingly beautiful. Jumping off the mattress, I ran past her to use the facilities myself, then laughed as I gave the bidet's handle a pull at the same time as I flushed the toilet. The things some people dream up. Michelle was sitting on the side of the bed waiting for me when I came back out, stifling a big yawn as she tried to wake herself up. Looking at the clock, I was surprised to find that it was after 11:00. That didn't really matter though, there was no one around but us to care what time we slept in to, and we had stayed up pretty late last night. Dropping next to her, I felt the bed shake and watched as her breasts bobbed up and down and felt a familiar tingle in my loins. I felt my sore cock begin to struggle to expand, but tried to will it back down. After yesterday, I doubted that either Michelle or I were quite ready for another round yet. "What's up for today?" I asked her. Michelle smiled back at me, then looked down at my slightly twitching cock. "I hope nothing for a little while. I'm a bit sore down there." "Me too," I admitted with a grin. "I think we overdid it a bit yesterday." Michelle leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. "Yes, but it was a good sort of over-doing." "How about we start the day with a shower?" I asked. She turned to look at me with a sly look on her face. "Simon, you're not telling me I smell, are you?" I laughed and bussed her lips once. "If we both don't reek, it would be a miracle. But really, I just want to try that gadget in your parents' bathroom. And see what you look like all dripping wet." "I thought you'd already seen me all dripping wet," Michelle teased, spreading her legs wide. Laughing, I stood and pulled her after me into the bathroom. I was dying to try that big shower room, but was a little intimidated by it. With Michelle along for a guide, I hoped it would be easier. "I've only used it a couple of times myself," Michelle admitted, "but my mom showed me how everything operated when they had it installed. It's not really that complicated." Michelle turned on the water, and it started to gush out of a small, normal-shaped faucet near the bottom of the shower floor. "That's so the temperature can be judged before you step inside. It's no fun standing under a sudden spray of freezing or boiling water." Fiddling with the cold and hot water knobs, she finally got a satisfactory temperature. Next, she pointed out a series of buttons near the door. "Each shower head has its own on/off switch. You can turn one on at a time or all at once if you really want to get drenched. Get inside, and I'll show you what I mean." She gave me a pat and a shove on the ass, pushing me into the middle of the shower room. Looking up, I inspected the multiple heads along the ceiling, then the four along the side of the wall. Whoever designed this thing liked making things complicated. I'd always thought of a shower as just a place to get clean, but this thing was like some big kid's toy. "Here we go," Michelle said, standing just outside the door as she pressed all the buttons at once. I jumped and let out a scream as eight jets of chilly water hit me at once. Giggling at the doorway, Michelle said, "It takes a second for the pipes to clear." The chill quickly disappeared, and then the sprays became deliciously warm, drenching me from head to foot. Reaching out for Michelle, I pulled her into the downpour with me. Giggling together, we wiggled about until we had let the jets hit every centimeter of our bodies. Stepping to what looked like a small medicine cabinet on the wall, she took out two bars of soap and threw one to me. Of course, I couldn't catch the slippery object, and it fell to the floor. I think that had been her idea since when I bent over to pick it up, I felt and heard a loud smack as she slapped me on my bare behind. "Oh, I'm going to get you for that," I declared as I stood back up and rounded on her. The little room wasn't big enough for a real chase, but we had fun trying to catch each other. When I finally had a good hold of her, I started to scrub her down with that bar of soap she'd tossed me, and still laughing, she returned the favor. If we both hadn't still been so sore and drained from last night, I'm sure a lot more would have happened in that shower. I know my painful erection had wanted more, but neither of us were up for it. Still, tomorrow would be another day, and then Michelle had better watch out. Out of the shower, we dried each other off. As I stroked her back, I heard her stomach rumble, and felt mine answer back. "God, I'm hungry. How about I make us some brunch?" "Brunch?" Michelle asked. "Well, it's almost 11:30. It's too late for breakfast, and still too early for lunch. What would you call it?" Michelle agreed, and I left her upstairs on the bed to brush out that long red hair of hers while I raided the kitchen to see what there was to eat. From there, it almost seemed a normal day. We ate together and then studied and did homework for most of the afternoon. At least that was something our parents would be pleased about if they ever found out what we were doing. The only really unusual thing was that we did it all buck naked. Since it was just us two alone, Michelle decided the 'au naturale' look would suit her just fine. I didn't even pretend to have a problem with that. Like I said, Michelle and I had almost all the same classes together, all except math and physics. Michelle was extremely smart in most things, but had some trouble with numbers sometimes and didn't have the grades there for the honor courses. First, we started on the work we both had to do, which went extremely fast together. Then we helped each other in the other subjects. It was sort of fun watching Michelle work through a complicated problem. She'd nibble on the end of a pen or pencil, her bare breasts sitting on the table in front, a cute frown of concentration on her face. I tried to be supportive but only offered any help if she said she needed it.I think it was watching her like that that must have triggered our first sex of the day. It was about 4:00 and I had begun to sprout an erection under the table as I watched her work and saw her breasts jiggle as she wrote things down or leaned back and forward in her chair. My cock was still slightly sore, but I thought I could live with it. "How are you feeling?" I asked Michelle as she erased something with the end of a pencil. "Huh," she said, looking at me uncertainly before that Jell-O smile crept onto her face and she flushed. It was an amazing sight watching her as I could actually see her nipples start to tighten as she realized what I had in mind. "Not too bad right now. I don't think I'd like to try to run a marathon, but I'm up for anything else you might have in mind." As I stood up, she really grinned as she saw my state. I crossed the table to her and began to nibble on her ears and neck. Letting a hand slip into her lap and onto her pussy, I felt a dampness start to seep out of it. "Yes, you feel pretty good to me." That first sex of that day was a mixture of both fucking and making love. We both took it slow, each knowing the other was still a little rough from last night, but we were both too excited to pace ourselves much. Trying something different, I pulled her into the living room and I sat down in what I found out was her father's leather recliner. Pushing the handles, I let the footrest up and lay outstretched in the chair. Getting the idea, Michelle stepped so my feet were between her knees and inched herself forward until she was just in front of my cock. Giving me a look that showed she was uncertain how to proceed now, I helped by reaching out to catch an ass cheek in each hand and boosted her up and forward onto my waiting cock. Grabbing the armrests for support, she very slowly lowered herself down onto me until I was embedded completely inside that tight, warm cavity. We didn't move for a bit, just sat there together enjoying the feeling of our two bodies connecting. Michelle was the first to move, rocking slightly forward then back again. It felt so wonderful that I started to assist the movement until we could hear the boards and the springs of the chair squeaking underneath us. It was just bad timing that sent us both rocking in the same direction at the same time and sent the chair over backwards with us inside it. As we hit the carpet with a loud crack, I had my arms tightly wrapped around Michelle's midsection to try and protect her from the impact. Luckily, the chair absorbed most of it, and the worst thing that happened was me getting slapped in the face by Michelle's giant mammaries. Amazingly, we found ourselves still in the chair, my feet sticking now straight up in the air and my cock still in Michelle's vise-like grip. "Are you okay?" I asked, trying to breathe around the two soft pillows of flesh. "Yeah," Michelle answered with a nervous tremor. "...I just hope we didn't break my dad's favorite chair." We hadn't, we found out a few minutes later after we had finished what we had begun in the chair. It was a bit of an awkward and uncomfortable position, but Michelle just moved her legs to help support us better and started to grind her groin back at me. 'What a girl!' I said to myself as I joined her. We both let out screams seconds later as we both climaxed together. Now I understand what I've read when it said that fear and adrenaline can make sex more exciting. "Should I stand up and give the neighbors a thrill?" Michelle asked as we sat opposite each other in the Jacuzzi bath. "Huh!" I answered as I splashed water at her. "With you living here, they probably all stay by their windows with binoculars just to get a little flash." It was late at night when Michelle suggested a good hot soak. She'd filled the tub, told me to get in, then turned on the agitators. It felt a little weird at first, but after a short while, I grew to like it. If I sat on one of the vents, it really became downright pleasurable. I had been surprised when Michelle reached up and opened the blinds that covered the picture window only a foot higher than the top of the tub. Flipping a switch next to the one that turned on the Jacuzzi, the bathroom lights went out. "If we don't stand up, nobody can see us," Michelle told me as I saw her move her seat a little bit. A sudden smile told me that she'd found another of the vents that was circulating the water in the tub. "Why don't we both stand up, and we can really show them something," I said with a leer before I slipped across the tub to cuddle beside her. "Simon, you have a very dirty mind, you know." "And you have certainly helped the quality of those thoughts lately," I agreed. "Maybe this will inspire another one." With that, she raised herself up and then plopped down into my lap. I didn't have an erection at the time, but her squirming behind was certainly going to change that soon. Then I had an idea. It sounded interesting to me, and I'm sure Michelle would enjoy it. Moving her slightly over and away from me, I wrapped my arms around her, took a breast in each hand, and then told her to stay still. Looking over her shoulder at me, she asked, "What do you have in mind?" "Just wait and see," I asked her as I gently squeezed her breasts, lightly teasing the nipples between my fingers. "I just want to see if I can do something." Michelle was curious but obeyed me. The squirming had started it, but it was the feel of her breasts that really helping it along. I felt my cock start to fill with more blood and slowly raise itself up. "Oh," Michelle let out a little squeak as she felt the head touch and enter her from below. It seemed a long time to me, but it was probably only a few seconds, but as it grew, it pushed its way up and deeper inside Michelle's soft tunnel. "Oh, my," Michelle said with a weak, shuddering sigh after I reached my full size and was buried in her. "That was something. I could actually feel you getting bigger inside me." "It was something I just thought up," I told her as I started to wiggle and gently thrust my hips. "I didn't know if I could do it. I think the water helped a bit. It helps make things lighter." "You're not calling me heavy, are you?" Michelle said over her shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eye. I answered back with a hard upward thrust that caused her to gasp in pleasure. "The only thing heavy about you is these," I said, giving her breast another squeeze, "...and I like them just the way they are." "Hmmm," she replied with that soft purr of hers. Enjoying the warm water and bubbles circulating around me, I just held on from behind her as we continued to move against each other. All the sex yesterday and today had given me a real feel for Michelle and a lot more self-control as I waited for her to reach her peak before I let myself go. With a high-pitched squeal, Michelle had an orgasm. Her cunt clutching madly at me, I couldn't hold on anymore myself and shot off a stream of cum into her. After we had calmed down a bit, Michelle wiggled herself around, my softening cock still in her, until she faced me. Wrapping her arms around me, she leaned forward and kissed me. Then leaning her head on my shoulder, we just held on to each other and enjoyed the warm comfort of the pool. Monday - Day 3 -------------------- That shower had been made for sex. We'd pulled the wooden bench from the wall into the center of the room, and Michelle lay on her back on it, her ass just slightly overhanging the edge. I dropped to my knees between her bent legs, using a wet towel for protection from the hard tile floor. Michelle raised her head for a better look as I fisted my cock into the base of her dripping pussy and shoved it in with a single push. As I started humping her for our first fuck of the day, her long legs wrapped around my back and pulled me even tighter inside. "That's better," Michelle said with a lustful sigh. "I want to feel you. Come on! Deeper! Go deeper!" That was all the encouragement I needed as I pushed as hard as I could again and again into her. The wet wood of the bench squeaked from our exertion as the hot, steaming water pounded down on us from above. "Yes! Yes!" Michelle screamed as I felt her legs pull me even tighter. I could actually feel the head of my cock hitting something solid as I reached deeper into her depths than I had ever touched before. With one more "Yes!" I felt Michelle start to tremble as her cunt clamped down hard on me and sucked me tightly into her. That was just too much for me, and I joined her with a primal animal scream of my own as I shot load after load of semen inside her spasming womb. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I pulled her body up to me and hungrily pushed my mouth to hers. As the final spasm slowly settled down, we let out a sigh of contentment into each other's joined mouths. "God!" Michelle said as she pulled her face away, her breaths coming out in ragged pants. "No wonder mom and dad spend so much time in here." I hadn't broached the subject with Michelle on my short stay here, but it was easy to tell that Michelle's parents were just as into sex as she was starting to become. Hell, if the bedroom with that huge bed and skylight hadn't told me that, this bathroom certainly did. Her legs still wrapped around my back, still holding me to her, and my softening cock still buried inside her, I had to say, "Your parents sound like fun people." Michelle giggled and agreed. "Oh, they're certainly into sex. I'd know more, but they had both their bedroom and this bathroom soundproofed when I was little. I imagine my mom can get pretty wild." "You must take after her then," I said as I began to nibble on her neck. Inside her, I felt my cock start to twitch as it started to expand again. "Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment. My dad, though, is a bit of a stick in the mud. He even turns blushed when he sees two people kiss on TV.""I don't know how mom handles him." "Like... I... said," I started to nibble and suck on her right nipple between words. "If... she's.... anything... like... you... she... wouldn't... have... a... problem." "You say the nicest things," Michelle said as she started to grind her ass into the end of the bench. My half-erect cock shot up to full size quickly. As we sat having breakfast downstairs in the kitchen, Michelle told me what she wanted to do that day. "Shopping!" I'd always known girls seemed to have a thing for shopping. I only went to a store if I was actually looking for a particular item, but the idea didn't seem like a lot of fun to me. Of course, I didn't tell Michelle that. I was her guest, and she'd certainly entertained me enough in the last few days. Anyway, we both agreed that we could use the sunshine and the trip away from the house for a little while. The only two people I was worried about seeing me were my brother or mother, and they were both working during the daytime. I think my brother would totally understand once he got a look at Michelle, but my mom was very Victorian about sex and would throw a fit. To her, sex was something you just had to do and put up with when you were married. It didn't really turn out that badly. Mostly, Michelle's idea of shopping was going out and trying on an endless collection of clothes. We went from store to store, Michelle finding something she liked or thought I would, and trying it on to see what it looked like. I offered to help her in the change room at each place, but she laughed and just said she didn't think the management would allow it. Also, neither of us wanted to get caught fucking inside, and we both knew that if we were alone for any length of time, that's what would happen. Anyway, I still got a kick from her showing herself off in one tight outfit after another. We did manage to go to a few places other than women's clothing stores. We stopped off and fed each other lunch. That was an experience, carefully placing food into Michelle's mouth as her tongue came out to lick and suck in items off my fork and spoon. We got a few stares from the other tables, but we both got a good laugh out of it. Try it sometime. It's really a sexy experience. We also stopped at a couple of music stores where I found something in the sale section that I just had to buy. While Michelle was digging through the record, CD, and tape racks, I managed to pay for it and stuff it in my jacket pocket before she saw me. Or at least I thought I had. When we got back to her place, the first thing she did was ask me what I had bought at the store so sneakily. I was a bit disappointed that I'd been caught, but decided now was as good a time as any to ask her. Together we went into the living room, and I told her to wait right there as I went over to the stereo system to give it a look over. It didn't look too complicated, so I pulled the little bag out of my pocket, quickly tore the wrapping off of the cassette, and slipped it into the machine. Pressing play on the machine, I joined a curious Michelle on the couch. Finally, loud music began to play out of the speakers in the corner of the room. Michelle's face flushed pink, and her hand flew to her mouth as she recognized the song. "Oh god, you didn't...." As Carly Simon belted "Nobody Does It Better," I turned to Michelle and said, "Well, you did say that you might dance for me if I asked?" Not saying anything, Michelle stood up and walked to the machine. Hitting the stop button, she rewound it, popped it out of the machine, and looked at the label. "I don't believe you did that." Picking up the bags we'd got while shopping, for the amount she tried on, she really hadn't bought that much, she called a "Stay right there!" over her shoulder before running upstairs. I didn't know what to think as I sat there. Was she mad at me? Was she going to throw me out? "Simon?" It was Michelle's voice, but she hadn't come back into the room yet. "Turn on the stereo and then go sit back down." Now it was my turn to be the curious one. Complying with her, I hit the play button and hurried back to the sofa to sit. As the same song began to play, I jumped as Michelle flew into the room in a leap, landed on one foot, did a quick spin, and then bounced across the room to the other. For a second, I thought she was naked, but then I made out that she was wearing a skin-tight, peach body stocking. I watched, no, actually, I gaped as she danced and gyrated around the room to the music. It was almost like the opening of a James Bond movie. The clothing hid just enough that it tantalized me, making Michelle even more sexy than she already was. Something I had thought would be impossible. How can you improve on perfection? As the song ended, Michelle turned off the stereo, stumbled over next to me on the couch, and collapsed. She was sweating and panting so hard I thought she was dying. I only seen her like this a few times before, and that was right after a great fuck. Reaching over, I gave her knee a good squeeze and asked, "Was it good for you? It certainly was for me." Michelle laughed hysterically, threw her arms around me, and pulled me hard to her. "God, that was great," she said into my ear between pants. "I haven't danced like that for ages." "You were fantastic!" I told her. "You really looked like you knew what you were doing." Michelle's breathing was slowly coming back down to normal. "I took ballet lessons when I was a kid, but had to give it up when these things sprouted up." She cupped her two breasts in her hands and gave them a good squeeze. "You don't see any ballerinas with a 'D' cup." "I don't know," I said, reaching over and giving them a good squeeze myself. "It would certainly bring in more guys to the ballet." Michelle jumped back up to her feet and headed out of the room again, yelling, "The next show is in five minutes. Turn the music on when I tell you to." And that's how we spent the rest of the afternoon. For each song, Michelle would go upstairs and change into one sexy outfit after another, then dance to each of them. She was very good. I still think that if she ever wanted to really give it a try, she could easily get a part as a dancer in the next movie. She really gave it to me on the last song on the tape, "For Your Eyes Only." As Sheena Easton belted out the first words of the song, Michelle jumped into the room. I thought that I had gotten used to her flashy entrances, but this one made me jump again. She must have gone into her mother's drawers again for the outfit she was wearing this time. A long silk negligee, slit up the sides to the top of her hips, spun lightly around her as she hopped and danced around the furniture. At about the middle of the song, she gave me a sexy smile, and in a single motion, it came flying off over her head and landed in my lap. Now just dressed in the smallest, tightest bra and panties I had ever seen, she continued to dance. I thought it was the most erotic thing I had witnessed in my short life until, with a flick of an arm, her bra shot over to join the negligee. As I continued to watch her, I picked up the soft undergarment and gently started to rub one of the cups against my cheek. As the last note of the song ended, Michelle kicked out toward me, and the panties she had somehow managed to slip off landed on the couch next to me. By the time the loud click announced the tape player going off, I had Michelle pinned under me on the sofa as I kissed and licked her face and bare breasts. Her hands tore at my pants and shirt until they were on the floor next to the flimsy clothes she had just discarded, then in a single movement, I was inside her. It was the wildest sex we had had yet. The thick cushions of the sofa acted almost like a trampoline as we both pumped up and down, our asses bouncing into the air as our groins slammed over and over together. I'm not sure how many orgasms Michelle had. I really think she had had her first while she was still dancing, before I clutched her hips tightly, pushed myself as deep as I could into her, and exploded. The room spun around me, everything turning red as I finally collapsed on Michelle, the cushions thankfully absorbing most of the shock. "Simon! Simon, are you all right?" Michelle's worried voice pulled me back out of my daze. I don't think I had actually passed out. The moment had been too good for my body to allow that. I think I had just overloaded. I rolled over to free Michelle from under me and told her I was just fine. I was just a little blown away. But, anytime she wanted to try that again was fine by me. We spent the rest of the day just relaxing and recovering. Tuesday - Day 4 ----------------------- The next morning, after our romp in the super-shower, Michelle announced that she had a surprise for me. After yesterday's workout, I wasn't sure I'd survive a surprise, but was willing to at least look. Still wet from the shower, we cuddled together in the huge bed. "Well, what's my surprise?" I asked nervously. Michelle gave a little giggle and reached over to the nightstand on her side of the bed. Picking up a remote control, she turned the TV on. Her parents had a really good entertainment center on the wall across from the bed with a good-sized TV, video recorder, and stereo system. The TV was showing an old Barnaby Jones repeat, in French no less. Then, with the other hand, she picked another remote and pushed a button on it. The VCR, a beta, turned itself on. I'd noticed that they had two VCRs, a VHS one out in the living room and a beta one in here. The war between the two formats was still going on, but VHS looked as if it would soon be declared the winner. The TV picture went to static for a second before a woman driving a car took its place. I watched as the titles began on the screen. 'Deep Throat' it announced. "Shit!" I yelled. "Where'd you get a copy of this?""I'd never seen a porno movie in my life before, but I had heard of this legendary movie. Michelle giggled again. "It was an accident. My parents must have left it in the machine and forgot. My stupid brother was watching some idiotic show, and I wanted to watch gymnastics. It was the Olympic finals. Anyway, my mom said I could watch it in here. I was just fiddling with the controls when I accidentally turned on the machine and... wow, did I get a shock." "I bet," I agreed, my concentration split between Michelle and the TV. "I turned it off right away before my parents found out I discovered their little secret, but the next time they were both out, I found their stash of movies. They've got about a dozen all together." "Shit!" I repeated. I don't know if that was for Michelle or for the woman sitting in the kitchen getting her cunt eaten. "Have you watched them all?" Michelle shook her head. "I chickened out every time. It's not often that I'm home alone when both of my parents aren't home, and I'm certainly not going to let my little brother catch me watching one. I've seen the beginning of a couple, but never got very far in them." For the rest of the morning, Michelle and I sat back against the headboard of the bed together and watched dirty movies. My hand was buried in the folds of her dripping pussy while she squeezed and jerked my cock. It was almost like at the James Bond movie, except we were both completely nude and we were paying more attention to the screen. 'Deep Throat' was enlightening, even if neither of us thought the actors and actresses were very attractive. It was almost all one oral sex scene right after another, something we had never gotten into. I had been curious though, at that James Bond movie I had licked one of my fingers after I'd had it buried in Michelle for a while. It hadn't tasted that bad, but was a bit oily. It was a lubrication of sorts after all. I was dying to get between Michelle's thighs for a better taste and really, really wanted her to suck on me back, but was too nervous to start something like that first. It had only been two weeks really since we had started together, and I didn't want to do anything that might drive Michelle off. The second movie, 'Behind the Green Door,' we both agreed was better but was a bit on the extreme side. The young Marilyn Chambers was really hot in it, and the guys were certainly better looking than Harry Reems. We couldn't believe some of the things they were doing, but it turned us on so much that we had to join in. On her hands and knees, facing the TV so she wouldn't miss anything, I drilled into Michelle from behind. For a little while, I half dreamed it was Marilyn I was fucking, but realized that Michelle was even sexier, and it turned back to the girl in front of me. With all that was going on on the screen in front of us, it didn't take either of us very long to finish. Afterward, we went back to cuddling at the head of the bed and finished watching the movie. After it ended, Michelle set the machine to rewind the tape. We certainly didn't want her parents to come back and notice that somebody had been watching their private collection. We both decided we were starving at the same time. We'd skipped breakfast, or more correctly, completely forgot about it in the excitement of the movies and had burned up a lot of energy already this morning. We chased each other down the stairs to the kitchen and threw some leftover pizza from last night to heat up in the microwave. It was a pretty fast lunch, but we both wanted to get back upstairs to the next movie. It was really nice having a girlfriend just as horny as I was. We'd just slipped the next tape in the machine and settled down to watch it when the phone rang. That in itself was not an unusual situation. Every night around 8:00 o'clock, Michelle got a call from her parents asking how she was and was everything all right. Michelle told me she was tempted to tell them that she was having a great time getting her 'brains fucked out' --- a direct quote, but just told them everything was fine and she was getting a lot of studying accomplished. Which was true enough. If Michelle didn't get an A+ in sex Ed. this year, nobody would. I would usually just sit on the floor trying not to make a noise the whole time. This time though, when the phone rang, it wasn't even 1:00 yet. We both scrambled to turn the TV and VCR off. The screams of two...no, better make that three people screwing themselves silly wasn't something we wanted as the background noise during a phone conversation. I took my usual place on the floor and shut up while Michelle went to pick up the upstairs phone.""Michelle asked her gently, her tone differing from her words. "It really wasn't his fault. I shouldn't have..." Kathy weakly argued back. "Come on, Kathy," Michelle demanded harshly. "You don't have to take that kind of crap." "Yeah," I added in. "Steve's an asshole. You can do much better than that." Slowly, Kathy started agreeing with us and reluctantly agreed that she was going to break up with Steve. Before Kathy could back out, Michelle ran for the phone, gave it to Kathy, and told her to phone Steve right now and tell him she was through with him. With Michelle and I on either side of her for support, she phoned him and told him, with some quiet coaching from Michelle, that she was through with him and never wanted to see him again. We could hear Steve start with some sweet talk, then turn to pleading before his voice turned harsh and he began to yell at her. I was really amazed when Kathy's face suddenly turned from the anxiety and confusion she had worn since she got here to anger. "GET OVER IT, YOU ASSHOLE!" she screamed down the phone before she slammed it hard back on the receiver. For almost five seconds, she looked strong and confident before she started to sob again into Michelle's shoulder. When she finally managed to get a hold of herself, Michelle let her go. For a minute, there was total silence before Michelle stood up, grabbed my hand, and said, "I'll go get us something to drink." I wasn't sure what was going on, but since she had a death grip on my hand, I went along with her. In the kitchen, Michelle got some glasses from a cupboard while I got a 2-liter bottle of coke out of the fridge. While I started to fill glasses, Michelle just stared at me, an unusual look in her eyes. "I want you to make love to Kathy," she finally blurted out. My hands opened up by themselves, dropping the open bottle onto the counter. We both reached for it, knocking it onto the floor and spilling even more of it. While Michelle wiped it up, I stood frozen and confused. The girl I was in love with, there was no doubt about that to me now, wanted me to have sex with her best friend. At least that's what I think she had said. Just to make sure, I asked, "What did you say?" Michelle looked up at me from the floor, her face flushed that pink I knew was from embarrassment. Reaching down, I gave her hand up, then watched as she washed out the cloth she had been using and rinsed off her hands in the kitchen sink. "I said... I said I want you to make love with Kathy." "That's what I thought you'd said," I sputtered in confusion. "You want me to have sex with Kathy." She took my shaking hands in hers before she continued, "Not just have sex with Kathy. I want you to make love with her." "But..., I... you..... but I thought we..." Michelle pulled me to her and planted her lips to mine. I just stood there lifelessly for a few seconds, but eventually joined in. "Kathy needs that right now," Michelle told me as she pulled her face slightly from mine. "She's in pretty fragile shape right now,... and from what she told me, Steve didn't treat her too well. He just fucked her. I want her to know there's more to sex than being used like that." "I..., I..." I started to answer, but Michelle just picked up two glasses and headed back to the living room, leaving me little choice but to pick up my own and follow her. Kathy was standing up, a weak smile on her lips when we got back. "I'm sorry to be bothering you guys with all this. I'd better go." "Sit," Michelle said, putting the two glasses on the coffee table. "You're not interrupting us. Simon and I needed to take a break anyway. Right, Simon?" Sipping slowly from my glass, I managed a, "Right." Kathy blushed pink as she thought about that, but picked up the drink and sat down, wincing as she hit the couch too hard. "God, Kath, have you been to a doctor?" Michelle demanded, taking the glass from Kathy's trembling hand. "No. I'm fine. Really!" Kathy told her back. "Come on. Take that shirt off," Michelle told her, reaching for the bottom button of Kathy's blouse. "I want to see what that bastard did to you." "Michelle!" Kathy screamed as she clutched desperately at Michelle's hands, stopping her from going any further. "I can't..., not with..." "I can leave," I said hopefully. "Don't be silly," Michelle said, talking to us both. "It's not like Simon hasn't seen a girl without a shirt before. In fact, neither of us have been wearing anything at all for the last three days." Kathy's face really turned red this time. "I know. Would it help if Simon and I took ours off too?" Michelle asked. Before Kathy could get a word in, Michelle was already undoing hers. "C'mon, Simon," Michelle ordered me as she tossed her shirt over the back of the couch. "Take your shirt off." My brain just went on automatic as I felt my arms pull my shirt off over my head and toss it on top of Michelle's. While Kathy gawked in shock at us, Michelle quickly reached over and undid the buttons on her blouse. The poor girl put up no struggle at all as Michelle gently pulled her arms out of the sleeves and placed it with the others. "God!" I swore as I got a look at Kathy. She was a very pretty girl, but that wasn't what I was staring at. From elbow to shoulder on both arms was patches of yellow, blue, and black, and under her bra on her ribcage was a large red mark that was just beginning to darken. "I'm going to kill the bastard." Kathy crossed her arms over her bra defensively before shaking her head. "No. I think it's just the one on my ribs. The rest..., well, Steve could get a bit rough when we..." Michelle looked over at me sadly, then shook her head at Kathy. Taking a deep breath, I kneeled in front of her. "We'd better take a look at your ribs anyway. Something might be broken." Ever so gently, I touched the new red spot and saw Kathy grimace in pain. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing, but could feel nothing wrong with what I touched. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" Kathy shook her head as she stared wide-eyed at me. "I think I hit the doorknob on the door. I can move okay, it just hurts a bit when I move certain ways." "You really should go see a doctor," I told her and felt her flinch under my hand. "No, no," Kathy said in a panic. "He'd want to know what happened and tell my parents, and then they'd want to know what happened...." Grabbing her gently by the shoulders, I said, "Okay. Okay, but if it gets any worse, you've got to promise me you'll go to a doctor." Kathy calmed down slowly, then nodded her head as she stared at me. "Okay, yes. But it doesn't hurt much right now." Unsure what else to do, I went back to sit next to Michelle, with Kathy on the opposite side. Michelle leaned over to me, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and whispered, "You're doing fine," in my ear. Then we all sat there quietly and sipped at our cokes. It was strange sitting next to two girls wearing only bras on their tops. Taking quick glances between the two, I realized the whole time I'd been looking at Kathy's bruises, I hadn't once looked at her bra or breasts. They weren't very big. Compared to Michelle's mountainous breasts, they were barely more than a handful. "You know this isn't really fair on Simon," Michelle said. I wasn't sure if she'd seen me staring at Kathy's chest and forced myself to stare down at my drink. "Here he is with nothing on at all up top, and here we are with these covered up." With that, she slipped her bra off and added it to the growing pile of clothes. I almost dropped my glass as my hands shook. I guess she had seen me. Kathy looked nervously back and forth between Michelle and I, she gave a little shrug, and slipped her own bra off and lay it carefully next to Michelle's. Okay. This time I couldn't stop myself from staring. Champagne glass tits, I think they would have been called. Little cones of flesh with two cherries on top. In fact, a double scoop of vanilla ice-cream is what they reminded me of. I had to stop myself from licking my lips. Michelle reached out and gave my knee another squeeze of encouragement. For a second, I didn't know what to do. Then a light bulb lit in my head. "Michelle?" I asked. "Did you ever thank Kathy for me?" Michelle was sipping again at her cold glass of coke as she looked at me with uncertainty. "You know," I had to remind her. "What we talked about at the movie." Michelle's eyes opened wide as she let out a loud cough as the coke went down the wrong hole in her throat. I took the glass from her hand so she wouldn't spill it on the carpet as she coughed to clear her windpipe. I figured that a bit of turnabout was fair play, and allowed myself to enjoy her discomfort a bit. "I'll take that as a no then." Looking over Michelle's mountains at Kathy, who stared back at me nervously, I said, "Thank you very much. You do very good work." "For what?" Kathy asked back. "Well, Michelle told me that you were the one who taught her how to French kiss." Kathy glared angrily at Michelle, who just started to giggle back at her outraged expression. "Like I said, you do very good work." Kathy quickly stood up, still glaring at Michelle. I thought she was going to leave or yell at her, but instead, she walked by her and stood in front of me. The next thing happened so fast it really took me by surprise. Kathy jumped me. One second she was just looking at Michelle, and the next she was in my lap, her face glued to mine. As I usually do in that kind of situation, I froze, but Kathy's wiggling ass in my groin and her passionate attack on my mouth quickly thawed me out. I could still hear Michelle giggling as I opened my mouth and felt Kathy's tongue push past my lips in search of mine. Then just as suddenly, she pulled away, jumped off me, and went back to sit next to Kathy. "Is that what you mean?" she asked sweetly. "Yes...." I answered as I started to breathe again. "Yes... very good."Michelle's giggles finally broke into a full fit of laughter as she shook, her magnificent breasts bobbing and shaking with each outburst. Looking over at Kathy, I saw her start to break up and join in. It was pretty contagious, and after a moment, I had to join them. After we calmed down, Michelle jumped me herself, her tongue and mine wrestling back and forth between us. "So who's better?" she asked as she pulled back. I was becoming quite good at impersonating a statue of late. Gulping, I looked at Michelle and then at Kathy, who smiled back at me. "Well... I... You're really both great." "Well?!" Michelle asked again with a glare. "I'd really need more practice before I could tell you that," I finally answered, hoping to save face. "Great idea!" Michelle agreed. "Kathy! Your turn again." "Michelle... I..." Kathy said uncertainly. "Go ahead," Michelle coaxed her. "And remember, this is for the world championship." Kathy gave a nervous giggle as she came over to me again. Instead of plopping herself in my lap and turning her head to mine, this time she straddled me, my legs between her thighs. "Well, here goes," she whispered to me as she wrapped her arms around me and lowered her face to me. If I thought she was good last time, this time she was an animal. Sucking my lips into her mouth, she nibbled at them before her tongue forced my mouth wide and started her attack. For a second, it felt as if she was going to swallow my face whole,... it was that good. Then the rest of her joined in. One hand started to gently rub my back, slipping down to occasionally give my ass a pat or squeeze, while the other slowly worked its way up the side of my chest until she reached my head. Then, lightly, she grabbed my ear and started making little circles on my earlobe. I'd seen girls and guys both nibble on ears in movies and even blow into them a bit, but had never known what effect that could really have on a person. As we busily exchanged saliva, I felt her hard nipples poke me in the chest and reached my hands up to cup her little breasts in my hands. As I pinched her nipples, she started to purr back to me in response. So that's where Michelle got that from. Kathy's legs squeezed together and then relaxed as she humped my groin with hers. "Ah, guys," we heard Michelle whisper to us. "You're going to make a mess of two perfectly good pairs of jeans if you keep doing that." Kathy jumped and pulled away from me. Throwing herself off me, she stepped back and looked embarrassingly at us both. "Oh, Michelle, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'd better go." "Don't be silly," Michelle told her. "I just meant that you'd both probably be much more comfortable if you removed your pants." "Michelle, I..." Kathy sputtered in confusion. It was really that sort of afternoon for her. "Simon, why don't you take Kathy upstairs and show her where she can hang her pants," Michelle told me. "I've got a few things to do down here. I'll join you guys in, say, about an hour." Strangely enough, neither Kathy nor I said anything as we both went up the stairs. Kathy started toward Michelle's room, but I grabbed her hand and led her to her parents' room instead. Standing at the foot of the huge bed, we just stared shyly back at each other. It was a strange feeling, shy after the way we had been at each other in the living room, but alone, up here, it seemed natural. "What do we do now?" Kathy asked in a quiet whisper. "Well..., if Michelle comes up here and we still have our jeans on, she'll be really mad." Kathy just looked at me uncertainly, then reached for the button on her jeans. My eyes followed her closely as she pushed them down to her feet, hopped out of them, then kicked them out of the way. Her pink panties were so tiny they almost looked like the bottom part of a string bikini. The thin line of cloth barely concealed her pussy lips, and I bet if she turned around, I wouldn't have seen anything but the crack of her ass. "Well?" she asked. At first, I thought she wanted a comment on how she looked - she looked yummy - but then realized that she was talking about my own still panted condition. It was a relief to undo the button and fly on my pants; I'd had a hard lump in my trousers since Kathy had first plopped herself in my lap downstairs. I repeated her performance by pushing them to my feet and kicking them to the side of the room. If there was any doubt in my mind that Kathy hadn't known my condition, there was absolutely none now. My cock strained against the cotton of my underwear as it tried and forced its way through. I could feel Kathy's eyes on my groin and felt myself flush in response. I looked up at Kathy and found that she had shut her eyes, her head tilted up slightly. Then, in a single motion, she hooked her thumbs in the side of her panties and crouched down...taking them with her. As she stood straight again, her panties sitting on her socks, she opened her eyes and stared right at me. Standing there totally,...well, except for the socks, naked, she looked like something out of a fairytale. Petite, I doubt she was even five feet tall, her long blond braid had hooked over her shoulder as it tended to do and hung down past her right breast. Her small, heart-shaped face looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes. 'No, not a fairytale,' I decided. Kathy looked just like a Wendy Pini wet dream come to life. Make her eyes longer and taper her ears to a point, and she would make one hell of a sexy elf. Then my eyes spotted the large purpling mark under her breast and the old colored marks all over her shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a combination of anger and sadness. I guess my expression must have echoed my reaction because she suddenly dropped her eyes and looked disappointed. "How could anybody hurt anybody as pretty as you are?" I hurriedly said as I took a few steps toward her. "That Steve has a lot to answer for." Looking up and smiling again, she shyly asked, "You really think I'm pretty?" I wanted to tell her she was adorable, but that isn't the kind of thing you say to a girl you're soon going to make love to. I was almost certain of that now. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen," I finally told her. It really was the truth. Both Michelle and Kathy were pretty, but Michelle was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. With Michelle, I think I could be happy if I just sat down and got to stare at her for the rest of my life. But Kathy was prettier. She smiled a bit more confidently at me as she finished closing the space between us. I had to look down at her head - I'm sure I could have comfortably rested my chin on top of it - as she hugged me. I felt her hands then come down and grab the sides of my own pair of underwear and slowly work them off of me. "That's better, isn't it?" she asked me as she freed my prick from its confines, its head now resting comfortably on Kathy's warm stomach. Reaching down, she wrapped a little fist around it and gave it a stroke. "Hmmmm, that's nice." Then she really surprised me as she dropped to her knees and began to place wet kisses all over it. I stared amazed as her lips worked their way down one side to my balls, kissed them just as thoroughly, and up the other side until she reached my crown. I let out a loud groan as her tongue snaked out of her mouth and began to lick me like an ice-cream cone. "Hmmmm," she purred again before smiling wetly up at me and licking her lips. "I see Michelle and you were busy not long ago." I had forgotten Michelle and my earlier fucking, and I imagined my dick would probably be not very clean. I was going to ask her if she wanted me to wash it when she just opened her mouth and sucked me inside. I groaned again as she pulled me deeper, and I felt my cock head touch flesh at the back of her throat. Her magical tongue seemed to wrap itself around me as she moved her head slowly up and down. Knowing that in my current state I wouldn't last much longer, I reluctantly pulled her from me and lifted her to her feet. "You don't want me to suck it anymore?" she asked, surprised. "God, yes," I answered quickly. "But later. I want to last a bit longer." Leaning forward, I crushed her mouth to mine, then wrapped my hands around her ass and lifted her so I wouldn't have to bend forward. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she helped support herself as our bodies pushed together. Coming up for a breath, she moved her head to nibble at my earlobe, then whispered, "Would you do me then?" I wasn't absolutely sure what she meant, so I asked, "You want me to eat your pussy?" "Yes!" she replied, tightening her grip on me. "Would you?" Letting her go, I sat her on the foot of the bed and knelt down in front of her. As I placed a hand on the inside of her thighs, her legs relaxed and spread wide for me. "Just like Michelle's," I said as my fingers ran through the soft blond curls of the heart right above the wet slit in front of me. "Michelle really did it then?" Kathy asked with a giggle. "Oh, yeah," I answered back, not looking at anything but that pink gash in front of me. "You seem to give Michelle a lot of ideas." With that, I reached out with my tongue and just touched the wet folds of flesh. It tasted a bit like Michelle's but was slightly different. 'Not bad,' I thought as I bent down and tried to push my tongue deep inside. "Hmmmm, that's nice," Kathy told me. "But slow down. There's no need to rush." I pulled my tongue out of her and licked around the edges. "Uh, Kathy..., well...is this better?" Kathy looked down at me before she started to giggle again. "You've never done this before, have you?" I gave an embarrassed head shake that she really seemed to enjoy...I had my tongue deep in her at the time. "Ooooo, Michelle doesn't know what she's missing. This is the only way Steve ever got me off." "Hmmmm?" I hummed inquiringly, my mouth still too full to talk. Pinching her clit lightly with my lips, I began to lick it with my tongue. "Eeeeee,."Kathy let out a little squeal of delight. "Yes, keep doing that. You're doing great." "I liked to fuck Steve, and we both liked it when I took him in my mouth, but I never got off unless he was eating me." 'Well, we're going to have to change that,' I thought to myself as I dug in further and felt Kathy respond back. Little drops of liquid leaked out and down her thighs, which I quickly scooped up with my tongue before plunging it in and around again. Kathy began to jerk occasionally as I licked a particularly sensitive spot. Deciding I was going to try to send her over the edge, I pushed my face tightly into her, my nose burying itself into her soft core, and started making an airplane noise with my lips. Kathy let out a loud scream as the vibration seemed to trigger something primal in her. Grabbing my head, she pushed it harder into her groin as it started to grind back against my mouth. My face started to get wet as I slurped and licked at the fluid coming out of her. Jabbing my tongue out, I felt her vagina tightly grip it and pull it deeper inside. 'I think that was it,' I decided. I just hoped it wouldn't last too long. I was having some trouble breathing, and my tongue felt like it was going to be pulled out by the roots. Slowly, Kathy dropped, her grip on my head releasing, and the spasms of her cunt becoming weak trembles. As I pulled my face from her and licked my lips, she let out a sigh of utter contentment. "You want to fuck me now?" "Uh-uh," I said, surprising her. I leaned forward and gave a slow, gentle kiss, then reached under to scoop her in my arms and carry her around the giant bed to its side. "I'm going to make love to you." I laid Kathy in the bed and then hopped over her. "What's the difference?" she asked me. I decided to show her the difference. I showered her face and neck with slow, wet kisses as I made my way to those small, firm breasts of hers. Nibbling lightly on one nipple and then the other, I started to get her worked up. "Stop teasing," Kathy pleaded. "I'm not teasing. This is the way it goes," I told her before I began to loosely pull on the hard tips of her nipples with my teeth. That large bruise below her breasts drew my attention, and I gave it a soft kiss also before saying, "If this starts to hurt at all, let me know. There should be absolutely no pain in this." "No pain...right," she agreed in a soft whisper as she started to go along with me. Reaching for my cock, I rubbed the head over her pussy, paying special attention to her engorged clit, then began to ever so slowly push it inside. I wanted it to get nice and slippery before I got completely inside her, and by the way her vagina gushed out its juices, that wouldn't be a problem. With me on top in the missionary position, I held myself up like I was doing push-ups. Her sweetly smiling face looked up at me as I finally reached bottom in that vise-like chamber between her legs. Holding myself there, I lowered my face to hers and began to nibble her lips and then her tongue as it came out to greet me. Imperceptibly slowly, I began to pull my hips back until the head of my cock was the only thing nestled inside her, then just as slowly I pushed back inside until our groins pressed completely together. For fifteen minutes, I repeated that, over and over, only speeding up slightly when Kathy begged me to go faster and harder. When her orgasm came, it built up just as slowly. Starting with a single tremble, her vagina grabbed me tighter with each thrust, clasping onto my cock and trying to pull me even deeper. Kathy's moans started out as just loud purrs, then got louder and louder until with a scream that I'm sure even Michelle could hear through the soundproofing of the bedroom, her body exploded below me. I tried to hold on longer myself, but having this sexy little body below me, thrashing and panting as the orgasm hit, was too much for me. Pushing myself as deep as I could inside her, I exploded, shooting out the stored cum that had been building up inside my balls since Michelle had asked me to do this. "I never...," Kathy said between pants as her body slipped into that relaxed afterglow that followed a real good orgasm. "That was so good." Gently, I pulled out my still rock-hard cock from inside her. "No, please..." she pleaded. "Don't stop." "I wasn't even considering it," I told her as I moved to lie next to her and rolled her onto her side so she faced away from me. Her ass just above my cock, I reached down and slipped it back into her pussy from behind. Cupping her little breasts in my hands, I kneaded them and felt her nipples grind softly in my palms. Again, I began to move slowly back and forth into her. I don't know how long we continued making love, or how many orgasms Kathy went through. After each successfully more powerful orgasm, I changed our position until finally I was flat on my back, and she was kneeling on top of me, my cock buried deep inside her. I held on to her hips to keep her from rushing the pace as she bounced up and down. For the last few minutes, I had felt her body rock with mini-orgasms as I felt the biggest yet start to build up. I had only cum that once inside her so far, but could feel the sensation that I was going to go off again, and very soon. Then Kathy let out another loud, long scream as her body started to shake like she was having a seizure. From the expression on her face, it was one hell of a pleasant seizure. Letting myself go, I thrust my hips upwards as she shakily plunged down on me. Just as her orgasm reached its peak, I felt my balls start to squeeze and my cock spasm. Then, again and again, in what felt like an endless chain of orgasms, I filled her up with my semen. Then too drained for anything more, she let herself flop forward onto my chest and just lay there gasping. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her as we both basked in the moment. Raising her chin on my chest so she could look into my face, she smiled a smile that only a completely content and blissfully happy woman could give. "Did Michelle teach you how to do that?" I bent forward and kissed her on the forehead, the only place on her face I could reach in the position we were in. "We sort of stumbled onto it," I admitted. "We were both so drained from fucking we didn't have the strength for any more, but neither of us wanted to stop. The first time was amazing, then we worked out how to keep doing it. It gets pretty hard sometimes, though. At times, I just want to plunge in and go like a jackhammer, but have to hold off." "A jackhammer sounds like fun," Kathy said weakly to me. My shrunken cock gave a twitch in her gooey cunt at that. "But later. I don't think I've got the strength for that right now." "Me either." "But I could do this," She said as she pulled me completely out, then slid down my body until her face hovered over my cock. Sticking her tongue out, she started to lick the combined mess we had made off of it. "Hmmm, nice and sticky." After that, it didn't take me long before I started to respond and grow again. Kathy's face was bobbing up and down as she swallowed my cock when I looked up and found Michelle standing in the open doorway. Chapter 9 --------- "Uh..., hi Michelle," I called out nervously. I knew that this was what she had asked me to, but it still was an uncomfortable position having your girlfriend walk in while her best friend was giving you a blowjob. "Michelle!" Kathy yelled, spitting my cock out with a wet plop. Turning, she jumped off the bed and ran to her friend, throwing her arms around her and hugging her tightly. "Thank you. Thank you. It was great." It made quite an erotic site. Like I said, Michelle was a bit taller than I was, and Kathy was really tiny, so her face fit snugly right between Michelle's breasts. Michelle was a little bit stunned by her friend's overjoyed reaction. "Don't thank me," Michelle finally said. "I think Simon was the one who did everything." Kathy did turn her head to give me a grateful smile before burying her face back in Michelle's bosom. "Yeah, but he wouldn't have done anything if you hadn't let him." Then Kathy surprised us both by reaching up and pulling Michelle's face down for a long, wet kiss. Afterward, she let go of everything but Michelle's hand as she dragged her over to the bed and sat her next to me. Then, hopping onto the bed, she dived back at my cock and started her mouth-work back on it. Michelle's eyes were glued to her friend's face as Kathy pulled me into her mouth and started a vacuum suction. "Simon, how are you doing?" "I...I'm doing great," I answered shakily as Kathy wrapped her hands around the base of my cock and started to pump up and down with her bobbing head. "But I think we've created a monster..., or at least a nymphomaniac." Kathy giggled before she spat me out for a second. "Don't be silly, I've always been one of those." Michelle's head lowered down further as she watched Kathy start to get really worked up as her head bobbed hard and faster. "K....Kathy...., I'm....I'm...goi...going to cum," I told her through gritted teeth. If anything, that only sped her up. "Kathy!" I let out a scream as my hips involuntarily bucked up as I started to shoot. Wrapping her lips tightly around my cock, I saw her cheeks draw in as she sucked my cum out of me like a straw. "Aaaaahhhhh," I screamed again as she reached one delicate hand down to my balls and gently milked them, pumping even more out of me and into her mouth. "Hmmmm," Kathy announced as she slowly let me out of her mouth and stuck her tongue out to lick up anything she had missed. The whole time, Michelle's face hovered nearby, her eyes and mouth open with surprise. Seeing this, Kathy reached out and planted her cum-covered lips on Michelle's, then she started to French her. I watched Michelle's eyes open even wider as her friend pushed my cum into her mouth with her tongue.Then, as if she had given up, she relaxed and joined Kathy in the kiss. Releasing Michelle and grinning maniacally, Kathy asked, "So how do you like the taste of cum?" Michelle blushed, but stuck her tongue out to lick a small white droplet that had leaked out of the side of her mouth. "How do you know if I've tasted cum?" "Well, since Simon had never eaten pussy before, I figured you hadn't done him either." Michelle turned to me, her eyebrows high. "You ate Kathy's pussy?" I smiled weakly at her before nodding, "It was pretty tasty." Michelle had to pause a minute to take that in, so I winked at Kathy and added, "You know, Kathy. This isn't really fair." "Fair?" "Yeah, fair." I told her. "Here we are both buck naked on this bed and there is Michelle still wearing a pair of pants." "Yeah, Michelle!" Kathy said indignantly. "You practically tore my blouse and bra off downstairs, I think it's only fair if you get just as naked as us." Michelle looked back and forth between us, then stood up and slipped off both her sweatpants and panties in one motion. "Is that better?" "You did shave it," Kathy said as she stared at the little red heart-shaped patch of hair on Michelle's groin. "Here, let me take a look?" Michelle, having given up any control of the situation, got on the bed next to me so that Kathy could get a better look at her. "Oh, look, Simon," Kathy said as she carefully examined it. "Michelle's got all wet." Joining in the game, I crawled down the bed to get a better look myself. Indeed, Michelle was definitely showing signs of dampness. Reaching out a finger, I rubbed it up and down her slit and felt even more moisture slip out. Winking at me, Kathy said, "Don't you think you'd better clean that mess up." I looked at Kathy's mischievous grin and then at Michelle's shocked expression as I dropped my face to her pussy and began to lick up the moist leakage. Pulling my face up, I looked at Kathy and declared, "It's no good. Every time I lick one lot up, more just leaks out to replace it." "Well, don't give up," Kathy ordered me on. "I'm sure if you do it long enough, she'll dry up." So I dug back into Michelle with a vengeance, my tongue licking up and down, then pushing inside as I searched for more of the moisture. Sure enough, Michelle didn't disappoint me. All the while, Kathy sat near me, giving me helpful instruction and absent-mindedly playing with Michelle's nipples. As I felt Michelle reaching orgasm, I stopped and looked up. Michelle looked down at me, pleading with me to continue, but I just looked at Kathy and told her to watch closely. Moving upward, above the heart-shaped patch, I found Michelle's belly-button. Remember I had said earlier that she was an "outy," and I also had found that that little knob sticking out was pretty sensitive. Reaching out with my lips, I kissed and sucked on it just as I had moments earlier on her clit. Sure enough, that set Michelle off. As I continued on her button, I reached a hand and pushed two fingers inside her while my thumb found her clit. She gushed as she came. Her clenching vagina squirting out its lubrication all over my hand and down the crack of her ass onto the bed. "God! God! God!" Michelle kept screaming as her body tightened and jerked. "Wow!" Kathy added as she stared in awe. "I've never seen another girl orgasm before. Did I look like that?" Letting go of Michelle's belly-button, I began to lick up the mess Michelle had just made. She trembled as I touched her ultra-sensitive clit but didn't tell me to stop. "Pretty much," I informed Kathy after I got most of Michelle clean, but I knew that as long as I kept licking her, she'd never quite be totally clean. "Hmmm," Michelle purred as I crept up her body to lie next to her. "That was..." "Yeah, it was, wasn't it," I said with a grin. "I was thinking of doing that earlier this morning to you..., when we were watching the movies, but I didn't have the nerve. I wasn't sure what you thought about oral sex." "Good," Kathy said from Michelle's other side. "I'm glad I could teach you two something too." "Too?" Michelle asked. "What did you learn?" "Well,...other than making love, I learned that I should listen to you more often when it comes to guys. You have great taste." With that, she leaned over Michelle and pulled my face to hers. Just below us, Michelle watched us as we kissed each other. Then we pulled her into a three-way kiss with us. We also learned that it's difficult, but not impossible, for three people to French each other at the same time. Coming up for breath, Michelle laughed when she got a good look at us. "We're a mess." That was true enough. My face was covered with the dried and drying remains from both Michelle and Kathy's pussy, while they both had flakes of dried jism on theirs. Not to mention the swampy mixture that covered our groins and upper legs. "We could introduce Kathy to the super shower," I said with a jolt of inspiration. "Super shower?" Kathy asked. "Oh, you're going to love this," I said. An hour later, we were all very, very clean and starting to get a bit wrinkled. Kathy had a blast with the shower and had found a new use for the side jets of water that Michelle hadn't discovered. If she stood right in front of them, spread her legs and bent over to touch the floor, she found that the second jet up was right in line with her cunt. Michelle and I took turns pushing the button, turning it on and off as we watched Kathy reach orgasm from the spurting jets of warm water. Lying on the clean bed, we'd decided to change the sheets, we hugged each other, our wet bodies slipping deliciously over each other. "Can you stay over tonight?" Michelle asked Kathy. "It shouldn't be a problem," Kathy liked the idea immediately. "It's been a while since I came over for a sleepover, and my mom knows you're here all by yourself." "At least that's what she thinks," Michelle said with a laugh as she reached down for my shrunken penis only to find Kathy's hand already there. We all sat up while Kathy phoned her mother for permission to stay over. "Hi, mom... Yeah, I'm fine... No, no... If he phones again, tell him not to anymore... Yeah, I broke up with him... Oh, we just had a fight and I decided to dump him... Yeah, I'm sure I'm fine... I'm over at Michelle's and I was wondering if it's all right if I stay here tonight... Uh-huh... Oh, I'm sure I can find something to eat for supper." With that remark, she gave my cock a squeeze and a jerk. 'Anytime,' I mouthed to her, making her stifle a giggle. "Okay... Thanks... See ya tomorrow... Bye." Hanging up the phone, she announced that she was all ours for the evening. "Did I hear right that Steve was calling you at home?" I asked her. "Just let me know if he bothers you. I don't care if he can pound me into mush. If he even looks at you the wrong way again, I'll kill him." Kathy's face looked like she was about to begin crying again, but she didn't look sad or depressed like she had last time. Reaching out for me, she wrapped her arms around me and said, "Thanks for the offer, but I can take care of him." "Well, in that case, why don't we go get supper ready," Michelle added. Kathy looked down at my growing cock and licked her lips. Michelle laughed. "I think something more substantial would be in order. No insult to Simon, but I think we're going to need all the energy we can get for later." "I could go for that," I added in agreement. We found out that Michelle had been busy while I was upstairs with Kathy. She'd thrown a load of dirty sheets in the washing machine, then the dryer, filled the dishwasher with dirty dishes and had begun to prepare a huge meal for all of us. The main dishes only had to be put in the oven to bake. It was true that for the last few days, we'd basically lived on junk food and stuff that could be quickly heated in the microwave. With a guest over, she decided to go all out and make us a real meal for a change. Being a good house guest, I helped fold the still-warm sheets. I knew that the way we were going, we'd need more sheets pretty soon. Then I emptied the dishwasher while the girls got the dining room table ready. Michelle acted like a good hostess. I think she was trying to copy her mother, and I think she would have been very proud of her if she'd been watching. The only thing unusual was the three naked teenagers politely talking and eating. Before we began, I saw Michelle lay out a thick cloth napkin in her lap, and I followed her example. I certainly didn't want to accidentally spill anything hot down there and ruin what I hoped to be a really good evening. After the meal, we all went into the living room and sat together on the couch to let everything digest. I could tell by the manic look in Kathy's eyes that she was in a bit of a rush for the night's entertainment to begin, but I thought we should just relax for a while. I've heard that you're supposed to wait for an hour after eating before going swimming. I wasn't sure if the same rule applied to sex, but it was better playing it safe. "How 'bout we finish that movie we were watching before Kathy called?" I asked Michelle. "Why not?" Michelle agreed. "Maybe it'll give us some good ideas for later." Kathy looked a bit disappointed but didn't say anything. I didn't think she'd stay disappointed for long, though. She was a bit surprised when we headed upstairs to watch it, but we explained that it was on a beta tape and the machine in the living room was VHS. After we got comfortable on the bed, Michelle reached for the two remotes, turned the TV on and then the VCR. The tape was still right where we had left it, and I watched Kathy as the picture came on the screen, accompanied by the loud groans of three people having more than a good time. "What the fuck?" Kathy said, her eyes glued to the picture. "Exactly," I agreed. "Where'd you get these?" "It's from my parents' private collection.""I found them a few months ago but didn't have a chance of watching them," Michelle said, smiling as her friend began to get turned on by the images before her. "Few months ago!" Kathy spared Michelle a quick angry glance before turning back. "And you didn't tell me about it!" "I knew you'd want to see them," Michelle answered back. "But I didn't want my parents to catch me watching them." "Wow, I want to try that!" Kathy said enthusiastically, pointing to the screen and hopping up and down on the bed. Only half watching the TV, the other half on the excited girls, I realized that it was going to be a long, long night. After the tape ended, Michelle hit rewind and turned the TV off. As one, both girls turned to look over at me. For a moment, I thought I was about to be raped, but instead, they just crawled toward me and asked what we should do first. That they were going to let me be the one deciding was a bit of a comfort. "Well, Kathy did say that she wanted to try something," I replied. "Yay!" Kathy screamed like a kid opening Christmas presents. "You lie down." Stretching out in the center of the bed, I watched as they had a little discussion to themselves. "Okay," Kathy finally told Michelle. "You can go first." Hopping over to me, Michelle leaned close and gave me a wet kiss before climbing on top of me. "Let me get that," Kathy said helpfully as she held my cock for Michelle as she slowly lowered herself onto it. Michelle began to slowly rock back and forth on me, my dick grinding around inside her as she moved. "My turn now," Kathy declared as she crawled up to my head. As Michelle had done first, Kathy leaned over and planted a long wet kiss on my mouth. Then, with unsurprising agility, she flipped one knee over my head and lowered herself down on my waiting mouth. As my tongue shot up and in and my lips pulled and nibbled on the ones between her legs, Kathy purred her delight. The rocking of Michelle on the bottom gave more than enough movement of the mattress to keep my face shaking into Kathy's little dripping cunt. From my vantage point, I couldn't see much except the curve of Kathy's ass and her back above me. Occasionally, I saw the long braid of blond hair go flying as she threw her head back and let out a howl. Michelle's tight vagina gripped and pulsed away on my hard member at the same time as Kathy's juices poured over my chin and into my working mouth. It was all like some wet dream come true. Deciding to get further into the action, I reached my hands around to grip some hard-nippled breasts that I knew had to be there, but instead found Kathy's face and mouth glued tightly on Michelle's right nipple as she sucked madly at it. That left one still free, so with my left hand, I hooked onto Michelle's other breast and began kneading it and rubbing my palm over the hard nipple. Michelle let out a groan of pleasure from both our ministrations. Not wanting to leave Kathy out, I grabbed onto one of her breasts with the other hand and repeated the process there. Where Michelle filled my hand to overflowing, Kathy's soft little breast with the diamond-hard nipple in the center fit right into my hand. "I'm cumming!" Kathy let out a scream that echoed in the sound-proofed room over and over as she ground her ass into my face. I thought I was going to either suffocate or drown as her ass and groin pushed down, and a wash of liquid splashed onto my face. "Cumming! Cumming! Cumming!" Kathy chanted loudly until it was over, and she slumped over to lean on Michelle. From Michelle's own movements, I could tell she was almost there, and I had been suppressing my own orgasm so I wouldn't go off before her. "Switch positions," Kathy said raggedly as she pulled off of my face, and I felt a cool breeze of life-giving air. Michelle was a bit reluctant to get off my cock. Both of us could tell she was almost there, but she finally got off with a little coaxing from me. I did want to taste her, and I knew that if she went off while still on my cock, I wouldn't be able to help but shoot off into her. Eating her cunt full of my own cream wasn't something I was quite ready for yet. Kathy quickly hopped on my wet penis and began to happily bob up and down on it. Michelle first looked down at me, gave me a kiss, then tried to do what Kathy had done. It wasn't too successful. Like I've said, Kathy is a little thing - willowy thin but sexy. Michelle, on the other hand, had a couple of inches on me. She wasn't fat, the only fat I could really find on her was those two gorgeous lumps in her front and a bit on her hips and ass that gave them a nice roundness. Still, I had a problem when she first sat down on me. Those lovely ass cheeks are a beautiful sight to see, but can be a bit scary when they're covering your face. Eventually, I found I had to reach under her to support her so that she didn't kill me too fast. All the while, I was trying to breathe and get comfortable under her, my tongue and mouth were sucking and licking at the dripping mass between her legs. Just as I finally thought I had gotten the position right, Michelle exploded. I had forgotten how primed she'd been. She was only moments away from going off when she pulled off my cock, so just a few moments of my tongue was enough to trigger a massive orgasm. Michelle let out a scream of her own that rivaled Kathy's earlier one as she began to convulse. I slurped hurriedly at the wetness to keep it from going up my nose and stop me from breathing completely. Then the worst happened. Michelle passed out, her knees giving out and her entire weight collapsing on my face. As the room blurred and darkened around me, I decided that if this was how I was going to die, then so be it. There were certainly worse ways than being suffocated by the cunt and ass of a beautiful girl while another hopped up and down on my spewing cock. And it was spewing like crazy. The panic and fear, along with the intense pleasure of Kathy's tight little cunt gripping me, was too much, and I shot load after sticky, wet, loud, deep inside her. My last thought was how bad I knew the girls would feel at finding my dead body underneath them. Then Michelle toppled off of me with a loud sucking sound as the vacuum pump between her legs pulled off my face. I gasped and gasped at the cool air as it pumped in and out of my lungs. As Michelle's leg finally cleared my chest, Kathy dropped down on me and rubbed her face into my face and neck. "That was good, Simon." I couldn't help but laugh and agree with her. It certainly was the most memorable sex I'd ever had. The three of us just lay there, cuddled together for about fifteen minutes, enjoying the warmth and contentment of the sex afterglow. I was enjoying the whole experience that day but was a bit confused and worried. My assumptions about Michelle and my relationship were having to go through a bit of a rewrite. Before Kathy had come over, I had decided that I was in love with Michelle and was beginning to even have thoughts about what our children would look like after we got married, but now I wasn't sure what was going on between us. I had always thought of us as friends, and after the last week, we were definitely lovers. But was that it? Kathy jumped up off the bed like a spring. I don't know where that girl gets her energy from. I was still a bit worn out from our last fuck and beginning to feel a similar soreness in my penis that I had after that first night-long fuckfest with Michelle. "Wow. You've got it," Kathy said as she excitedly dug through the box of porn videos and pulled out one of the tapes. Removing the rewound one from the VCR, she shoved the other one inside and pushed the tape down. "I've always wanted to see this." Snuggling back up to us, she got Michelle to pass over the remotes, and she started it running. The familiar face of Linda Lovelace driving down some street popped up on the TV. So Kathy was another one curious about the legend. I just hope she wouldn't be as disappointed as I was in the movie. Neither Michelle nor I had the heart to tell her we'd watched it just that morning. About a quarter of the way into the movie, Kathy turned to me, her mouth wide open, and asked me if I'd look down her throat for anything unusual. I looked but couldn't find anything that didn't look like it should be there. "But I'm almost sure I've got a clit in my throat," Kathy said only half seriously. "I sure get a kick when a guy stuffs his cock in my mouth." I reached down and gave the little knob protruding between her legs a little pinch and made her jump. "At least you're not missing one between your legs." That led the three of us into a long conversation on the merits of oral sex. Since Michelle and I had just been introduced into the acts that day, that made Kathy the expert. She told us in great detail about what she and Steve had done to each other. He had been somewhat accomplished when they had first done it, but everything she had done was a first for her. Except for me today, Steve had been the only person she had had any sort of sex with. I had a few questions about the bastard myself that I had been wanting to ask her but never thought the time was right. First, I asked her about all the fading bruises on her shoulder and upper arms. She winced slightly at the memory but said that Steve had had this habit of holding her tightly there whenever he fucked her and he sometimes lost control and squeezed a little too hard when he came. Then I had to ask her about that comment she'd made earlier about the only time she got off with Steve was when he was eating her pussy. I thought she must have been joking since she seemed to cum almost continuously when I fucked her. "After having you, I'd have to say that Steve wasn't very good, and definitely wasn't very long." "Steve had a little cock?" I asked in amazement. I'd always thought of him as the macho jock type. Kathy giggled. "No, it's not that.Size-wise, you're both about the same. It's just that once he got in me, he didn't last long. Even if we did it a second time, he always shot off long before I felt anything. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't any good. That's why I liked him to eat me. His tongue could last longer than his cock. It was Michelle's turn to giggle. "Well, I've only felt Simon's tongue there twice now, and he seems to have a strong tongue too. But even he shot off pretty fast the first couple of times we did it." "Really!" Kathy asked, looking back and forth between us. I reluctantly nodded, my face red. "Hell, I'd been waiting to get in Michelle for years. She was just too much for me." "But the way you did me this afternoon...Wow!" Kathy said in doubt. "I didn't think you were ever going to go off." I took that as a compliment, so I reached over for her and gave her a long, wet kiss of thanks. "I could have gone off as soon as you touched me," I told her. "You had me so worked up, and were so sexy." It was Kathy's turn to blush red. "But that wouldn't have been fun for either of us. I wanted you to cum." I turned to Michelle, not wanting to leave her out, and gave her a kiss too. "It's no fun unless the girl enjoys it too. The feeling when one of you goes off on me is just...well, it's almost better than when I do it myself. And when we both do it...wow!" That was enough of that for both girls. Kathy wanted me to make sure she didn't have a clit in her throat, so she sucked my cock into her mouth just to make sure. I went along with her and tried to see if the head of my cock could feel anything in there, but the sensations were too overwhelming for me to be certain. I pulled out before I could cum in her mouth. "I want to make love," I declared. Kathy graciously said that Michelle could have me first, since I "was hers." I kind of liked the thought of being Michelle's, but I really thought Kathy just wanted to go second because she thought I'd last longer that way. Kathy sat down in a crossed-legged position just off the center of the bed and began playing with her wet pussy, while Michelle and I got into the missionary position, the way we always started. It was strange having an audience as I slowly made love to Michelle, but Kathy didn't want to miss a moment. She'd been too much of a participant the first time to really understand the slow process Michelle had dubbed "making love." The girls seemed really in time with each other, and as Michelle reached her first orgasm, I looked and saw Kathy's hand plunge herself into a matching ecstasy. It really took an effort for me not to shoot off with them, and I had to take a minute time-out to let myself calm down. Pulling out of Michelle, we switched positions. Unconsciously, I mimicked the same pattern I'd done with Kathy in the afternoon as Michelle lay on her side facing Kathy, while I slipped behind her and pushed my cock into that dripping mouth between her legs. After a minute of slow, deliberate pumps, I slipped a hand under Michelle so I could grab a breast in my hand. My other hand reached over the top of her so I could find her clit. Rubbing my finger in the sticky goo that was leaking out of our joined groins, I made it nice and slippery before I started to tickle her clit with it. Still sitting in front of us, Kathy let out a giggle of pleasure as Michelle let out a groan of one. Then, drooping onto her stomach, she leaned forward and began to kiss Michelle. I had a very good vantage point as I watched Michelle's cheek distend as Kathy's hot tongue pushed inside and dug around in her mouth. The two of them before me were making it harder and harder for me to hold on. Kathy made it even harder when she moved her mouth from Michelle's down to the breast in my hand and began to alternate licking my fingers and Michelle's hard nipple. I knew I wasn't going to be able to take much more of this. Then Kathy slowly licked her way downward. For a moment, I thought she was going to start on Michelle's cunt with my cock slowly going in and out, but instead, she pursed her lips and sucked on her extra clit, that little knob of a bellybutton that seemed directly connected to her pussy. Michelle let out a loud scream as she started to hump back on my cock. That was it; there was no holding back this time as Michelle's vagina clasped and pulled on my cock. I let out my own scream as I shot into her hot womb. "Yay!" Kathy added happily, getting a good view of our combined orgasm. "My turn now. My turn." "God, Kathy!" I begged. "Give me a minute to recuperate." As my cock pulled out of Michelle's full cunt with a loud, wet pop, Kathy dived on me and started licking the combined juices off of it as she hurriedly tried to get me hard again. I just lay and enjoyed it. Now, the strange thing about both Kathy and Michelle is that neither of them could ever be called a lesbian, or even bi. But both did enjoy kissing each other, and Kathy had a real fascination with Michelle's breasts...a fascination that I shared. Kathy even enjoyed licking Michelle's sticky juices off my cock and face, and Michelle eventually learned to like it too, but to the best of my knowledge, they never went any further than that. The furthest south either mouth ever touched was Michelle's extra clit, that bellybutton, and the only time I ever saw them touch the other's pussy was when they were helping each other shave. It would have been a kick to watch the two girls go down on each other, but I was more than satisfied to live with the way they were behaving now. As Kathy sucked me, she paused to show Michelle exactly what she was doing, giving Michelle a lesson in cock teasing. Then, deciding enough was enough, she spat me out and lay down for her turn. By the time I was through with Kathy, I was both sore and exhausted. The girls could have gone on, as Kathy was completely insatiable, but I had to back out. I felt a bit like I was letting my gender down, but there was no way I could go again tonight. Instead, we put another movie on the Beta and snuggled together on the bed to watch. It was great being sandwiched between the warm, soft bodies of two beautiful girls. I fell asleep to the gentle voices of Michelle and Kathy discussing the sexual positions of the couples and triples and, in some cases, quadruples on the screen. Chapter 10 Wednesday, Day 5 I awoke to a slight hissing sound to find Kathy snuggled up to me, her cheek on my shoulder. Again, she looked adorable, her features completely relaxed, her lips trembling ever so slightly as she breathed in and out. That had been the hissing sound that had woken me. Trying not to move and wake her, I reached a hand to the other side for Michelle, but she wasn't there. Turning my head to look, I could see her wrapped head to toe in a blanket just on the edge of the bed. Moving my pillow to support Kathy's head, I shifted myself over until I could reach out and touch Michelle. As my hand touched the roundness that I supposed must be her blanket-covered shoulder, she flinched away from me and rolled off the bed. Before I could ask her what was wrong, she fled into the bathroom and slammed the door. I was going to go after her when I felt Kathy grip my own shoulder from behind. Bleary-eyed and only half awake, she shook her head to get rid of last night's cobwebs. "When a girl runs into a bathroom and closes the door, you never ever follow her inside," she told me. "But Michelle..." "No buts. The bathroom is like Superman's Fortress of Solitude. Once the door is closed, it becomes off-limits to everyone else," she explained as she climbed up off the bed. As she walked over to the bathroom door and knocked, I couldn't help but admire the movement of those two small ass cheeks, even though I was more than a little worried about Michelle. "But it's all right for you to go in?" I asked. "Yes. She's my best friend, and we're both girls." The bathroom door opened timidly, and Kathy quickly entered before it could shut behind her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watched and waited for some answer. It was a very nerve-wracking fifteen minutes before Kathy came back out. Kathy looked at me with an embarrassed, sheepish grin. "Michelle's all right," she told me, relieving some of my tension. "It's just...a woman problem. She'll be back to normal in a couple of days, but she might be a bit different until then." It came to me what the problem was, but my knowledge of that part of female biology was a bit lacking. Michelle came back out of the bathroom, a robe tied tightly around her. She looked like she'd been crying, and she was still sniffling a bit. I jumped off the bed and ran to her. Grabbing her in a hug, I felt her flinch again and pull back from me. The rebuke made me feel like she had slapped me. Seeing my hurt expression, Michelle began to sob lightly again and hugged me, this time not pulling away as my arms went around her. "I'm sorry, Simon," she said between sniffles. "I wanted this week to be so perfect for us. And now...this. I knew I was due..., I just hoped that it would wait a few days longer." "Michelle, it's all right," I finally said to her. "Nothing you do is ever wrong." That brought an even louder sob from her. I lightly kissed her on the lips and had her push back from me and run back into the bathroom. "Come on back to bed," Kathy said from behind me. "She'll be all right. It's just that Michelle gets kind of sensitive at this time of month, and she doesn't like to be touched. Me..., it just makes me more horny." That, I had my doubts about. A hornier Kathy wouldn't be humanly possible. Eventually, I shuffled back to the bed and lay down next to her, but I couldn't get back to sleep. Kathy had a few ideas about curing that, but with Michelle like this, I just didn't feel right doing anything. And anyway, after last night, my penis felt a little bit too raw and sore for anything more right now.I heard the super shower running for about fifteen minutes before Michelle came back out, the robe tied tight around her again and a towel wrapped around her hair. She just gave me a sad look before leaving the bedroom and going down the hall to her own room. I lay there with Kathy cuddled up with me for a long time before Michelle peered around the door and said she was going downstairs to make everybody breakfast. She was completely dressed this time. I nudged Kathy and felt her moan slightly as she began to wake for a second time. "Come on," I told her. "Michelle's gone down to make breakfast, so we'd better hurry up and shower." She was still a bit groggy until the first jets of hot water hit her, then she livened up. We washed each other down with soap, my sore cock only jumping a little as I rubbed my hands over her body. Then she had a surprise for me. Undoing that long braid of blond hair, she asked me to help her wash it. It was the first time I'd seen her with it undone since I'd known her. Standing there with long strands of wet hair surrounding her and covering most of her face and upper body, I told her she looked like a sexy 'Cousin It'. After she was done chasing me around and mock beating me up about that comment, she had me rub in the shampoo then rinse it out, then repeated the process with a hair conditioner. I was a bit surprised how long the entire hair washing took, but I came to understand that old joke about a girl staying home a night to wash her hair. Rubbing the mass of twisted and knotty hair with a towel to dry it, she then asked me to brush it out. The whole thing took about a half hour, but she did look very pretty when it was done. Just tying it back with a barrette, she told me she'd wait for it to be completely dry before she braided it back up again. We both were fully dressed when we headed down. Michelle looked a bit uncomfortable when she saw us. She had reverted to hostess mode and had set the table for a meal. She said to just sit down and she'd bring in the waffles, eggs and bacon. I obeyed her, but Kathy went in the kitchen to help out. A couple of minutes later they came out with two trays covered in food. Michelle looked much better. She was smiling, and it didn't even look forced this time. We didn't do much talking as we dug in, but the atmosphere between us seemed to have lifted a bit. "I'd better get back home before lunchtime or my mom'll be phoning up worrying about me," Kathy said, stuffing the last piece of her maple syrup-covered waffle in her mouth. That was a frightening thought. Michelle and I were going to be alone again. "I could go home early if you want," I told Michelle. "I could just say that Ryan's family came home early for some reason." "Don't be silly, Simon," Michelle said as she piled the dirty dishes back on the trays. "I want you to stay." "But..." I began to ask, but Kathy gave my knee a squeeze and shook her head at me before I could finish the question. "Even if guys can't,...well..., fuck," Kathy whispered to me after Michelle took the dirty dishes into the kitchen. "She still needs you here." "Okay," I nodded. If Kathy said Michelle needed me, of course I'd stay. It would just be uncomfortably difficult to have her around and not be able to touch her. We sat in the living room watching game shows on TV for most of the morning. After Kathy's hair was dry enough, Michelle helped her weave it back into a long braid. Other than that, it was a quiet morning. About 11:00, Kathy said she'd better get home. Giving Michelle a hug, she then gave me a kiss good-bye, her hand giving me a good grope, before leaving. Now it was just Michelle and me. Me and Michelle. Michelle and me. I felt a bit lost without all the sexual possibilities that had joined us together the last five days. "How about we do some more homework?" I finally asked, not coming up with anything better. "We got everything done on Sunday," Michelle told me. I thought about that for a moment, then added, "Well then, how about we do some more math together. Next year, I want you to be in the same class with me." Michelle smiled almost her Jell-O smile back at me. "You mean tutor me." "Yeah," I said, getting enthusiastic about the idea. "If we can just get your grade up a bit, you can move into the honors class with me." Michelle was a bit doubtful about that possibility but agreed to give it a try. For the next two hours, everything seemed almost normal between us as we sat next to each other at the kitchen table and went through the math textbook. She wasn't really bad at math; she just found it hard to visualize the numbers as anything except squiggles on a piece of paper. I helped her to learn how to try and actually see the numbers as more than that, to make them more real. Just memorizing times tables and formulas is good for the first few grades, but once you get into geometry and algebra, you have to learn the ability to let the numbers be fluid. Eventually, she seemed to grasp part of the idea, and she went through the trial problems I gave her much easier. We'd gotten a bit carried away when the doorbell rang. Looking up, we were surprised to find it was after 2:00. Michelle's smile melted me as she got up to go see who was at the door. It really came as a surprise for me when Michelle came back followed by Kathy carrying an overnight bag. "Hi," she said, giving me a long kiss. "I hope you two don't mind another guest for a while." I looked at Michelle, and she seemed genuinely happy that Kathy was back. "I asked Kathy in the kitchen this morning if she could come and stay for a few days," Michelle informed me. "My mom didn't put up much of a fight," Kathy added. "Once she found out Michelle wasn't feeling too well, she practically pushed me out the door. She has a hard time each month too." Michelle looked a bit embarrassed by that. "So what are you two up to?" Kathy joined us in the little study group. She was in the same math class Michelle was in and getting even worse marks, so any help there was much appreciated. We spent the rest of the afternoon grasping at the language of the universe. After having supper, we all sat on the sofa together in the living room and watched movies for the rest of the night. Regular ones this time. It was nice being between the two girls and not having to worry or think about sex. Michelle went to bed early at 10:00. This time she went to her own bedroom by herself, while Kathy and I shared her parents' bed. I felt more than a bit uncomfortable being alone with Kathy like this while Michelle was by herself just down the hall. Still, it didn't take much coaxing by Kathy for us to go at it. Neither of us had had any sex today, and I was no longer that sore. The first time, we went at each other like animals, pounding away at each other until we both climaxed together. I was more than a little glad that this room was soundproofed, both of us got a little bit noisy. The second time, I gently made love to her until Kathy was having just one long orgasm after another. She almost had to beg for me to finally cum inside her that second time. Afterward, we just held each other and drifted off to sleep.I even used that same joke about going in the changing room with Kathy, but got a much different reaction. She was really all for that and even asked if I wanted to fuck her inside it. She seemed honestly disappointed when I backed down and just sat and waited for them to come out. It was a bit embarrassing for me when we ran into some people we knew. It was spring break after all, and any teenager who hadn't managed to go somewhere on vacation wandered the malls. Michelle and Kathy put on quite a show for them, fawning all over me. I imagined by Monday when we got back to school, I'd have quite a reputation. At about supper time, I splurged and blew the rest of my cash on taking the girls to a better restaurant. It wasn't anyplace really fancy. I didn't have the money or the reservation to take them to someplace like that, but I wanted to show them that I was grateful for everything that they had both shown me, and done with me. When we finally got back to Michelle's house, it was already after 8:00. A red light was flashing on the answering machine near the telephone. Turning the machine on, Michelle's mother's voice spoke out, "Michelle honey, where are you. Give me a call when you get home. You've got the number. Bye honey." "Oops," Michelle said. "I forgot about the nightly security check." Giving Kathy a hug and surprising me with a kiss on the cheek, she waved us away. "You two go upstairs and have fun. I've got to phone my parents, so I'll see you in the morning." Kathy grabbed me by the hand and pulled me upstairs after her. It wasn't like I was fighting going up with her. It was just a surprise that Michelle had sent us away like that. Our relationship was getting more and more confusing every day. Kathy shut the bedroom door behind us. "Just give me a minute in the bathroom. Get ready, and I'll be out soon." I stood there for a minute before I started to take off my clothes. Instead of just tossing them in a pile near the bed, I actually folded them up and put them on a chair. As I had expected, Kathy was completely naked when she came back out. She jumped on me, pushing me back on the bed and began to lick my neck and chin until she came up to my mouth. We just lay together, our mouths glued together, our hands stroking each other as we enjoyed the physical contact. "Would you eat me?" she asked, giving me a smile full of mischief. "I've already had one dessert tonight, but I'm always ready for seconds," I told her as I wiggled down and off the bottom of the bed. Grabbing her by the hips, I pushed her a bit up the bed so that I could comfortably reach her pussy while I kneeled on the floor and leaned over the foot of the bed. Inhaling deeply, I smelt something unusual. Then, sticking my tongue out, I slowly licked her slit from the bottom to the top and around the hardening button of her clit. "Strawberry?" I asked her, smacking my lips and enjoying the lingering taste. "I cleaned myself up for you," Kathy told me, still grinning. "It's been a long day, and I thought you might like me better like this. I've got a couple of different flavors if you don't like strawberry." I lowered my head again and really dug into her with my tongue. Then, giving her clit a little nibble with my lips, I looked up at her again. "It's really yummy," I admitted. "But I've kind have grown attached to your natural taste." "Really? Steve sort of preferred that I flavor myself." I quickly slipped up the bed and kissed her, then slipped back down and buried my face back between her thighs. By the time I had to come up for air, she was loudly panting and moaning in pleasure. "I'm not Steve. And I like you just the way you are." After that, she quickly came on my tongue, drowning me in a sweet nectar with just a hint of strawberry. When I crawled back up to her, she threw her arms around me, licked my face clean of her juices, and then just hugged me tightly, her head on my shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered in my ear softly. "My pleasure," I said, and meaning it. I really got a jolt out of feeling her orgasm under my face. "Not for that silly," she said, giving me a mock punch. "I mean for what you said to me. Nobody's ever said anything like that to me before." "Well, as we both know, Steve's an asshole, and every other guy is just too dazzled by your beauty to even talk to you. Give it time. Guys will be begging to drool all over your pretty little feet soon." "I don't want any other guy," she told me, then kissed me so hard I thought we were going to permanently graft together. "Want me to do you now?" she asked me. "How 'bout a soak first," I asked her, then introduced her to the marvels of Michelle's parents' Jacuzzi. It was a long wet night for us both, in many ways. We more than caught up with all the sex we hadn't had in the last two days, and then some. Friday Day 7 ----------------- I slowly woke up the next morning the best way possible. I could feel a warm wet mouth stroking and sucking on my cock, a hand gently cupping my balls. I just lay there for a minute, enjoying the familiar blissful sensation. "Hmmm, Kathy. That's really good," I said to her. "Uh-uh, lover," I heard her familiar sweet voice next to my ear while she sucked hungrily on my pounding erection. Opening my eyes, I could see her face near mine, an impish smile on her face. She quickly glued her face to mine in a sloppy kiss, her tongue diving into my mouth. "She's pretty good, isn't she?" Kathy asked as she came up, a trail of saliva still joining our mouths. I looked down and found a mass of wildly scattered red hair bobbing up and down on my groin. Kathy slipped down my body and shoved the hair away so I could get a good look. I'd known it had to be Michelle blowing me, but it still came as a surprise to see her green eyes stare up at me, her mouth full of my hot flesh. "God, yes," I said, letting out a groan as her tongue teased the sensitive crown of my penis while still in her mouth. "And to think this is her first-ever blowjob," Kathy added enthusiastically, her head synchronistically bobbing up and down next to Michelle's. "She's a natural." I just lay there, enjoying the feeling as Kathy coached Michelle on what to do. When she finally told her to wrap one hand around the base of my cock and pump while the other gently massaged my testicles, I couldn't hold back any longer. Not knowing if Michelle wanted me to shoot off in my mouth, I gasped out, "I'm cumming!" a few seconds before I exploded. Kathy told her to take me as far as she could in her throat and swallow, which, to my pleasure, she did, or at least tried to do. She managed the first few squirts before choking and coughing. She had to quickly spit out my spurting dick, which Kathy pounced on, sucking madly on it, her cheeks distending as she yanked the cum right out of me. Michelle watched, her coughing ceasing, a drop of white syrup rolling down the corner of her mouth as her best friend gobbled up what she missed. Finally pulling off of my softening cock, Kathy looked up at Michelle. "Let me get that for you." She reached out with her tongue, wiping up the spilled cum and pushing it back into Michelle's mouth. As they Frenched, swirling my semen back and forth in their two joined mouths, my cock began to start to grow again. "Wasn't that great," Kathy stated ecstatically. "I just love a wet cock in my mouth." "I think I got a bit lost there at the end," Michelle said, her voice still a bit hoarse. "Don't worry. I'm sure Simon will let you practice until you get it right. Right, Simon?" "As much as you want," I agreed quickly. "I'm just glad you're back." The two naked girls slithered up my body, and we joined in that three-way French kiss we had learned to do. It was strange, as I could still taste something that had to have just jetted out of my cock, but coming from their two purring, passionate mouths, I didn't mind at all. "You all right now?" I asked Michelle. "I'm better," Michelle stated. "But it still might be a few days before I'll let you eat my pussy. Other than that, I'm as horny as normal." "Glad to hear it." After that, we all ran screaming and giggling into the super shower for a good, long soak... and fuck. I wanted to try something that we'd done before but in what I hoped would be a safer place. On the bed, I had thought I was going to die as the girls both sat on me at the same time, but without the softness of the mattress allowing them to drop so far, I thought it would be possible now. I pulled out the bench again and set it right in the center of the little room, then, lying on it on my back, I told them to come over. Since Michelle didn't want to be eaten, and I didn't really want to eat her at this time of the month, I told her to get on my cock, while Kathy got to stand over my face. Michelle stepped over me, and Kathy held my penis straight up for her as she bent her knees and slipped me deep inside. Then Kathy mounted my face, her cunt already dripping its natural lubrication. The girls leaned on to each other for support while they each ground themselves into me. It was much better this way, as I didn't have to worry about suffocating while enjoying them both. Kathy was the first to let out a scream as my tongue wrapped around her hard little clit and pulled it into my mouth. What juices the hot water from above didn't quickly wash away, I hungrily slurped up. As she slumped forward on to Michelle, she pulled a hard nipple into her mouth and began to chew on it. That was too much for Michelle's sex-deprived body to take, and she began to slam up and down on me as her own orgasm rocked her. Not wanting to be left out, I let a screaming groan out, which Kathy greatly enjoyed, and shot my second load of the day deep into Michelle's tight warmth. Afterward, I gently shoved them off of me, and we huddled together on the bench, enjoying each other's presence and the streaming water raining down from above.It was much better this time not having to fear for my life, though that surge of adrenaline last time did make for a very memorable climax. After breakfast, we had to start work. We still had more than a day until Michelle's parents and brother came back, but it was a big house, and we didn't want Michelle getting into any trouble. First, we opened all the windows to let the place air out. After staying out all yesterday, we had all noticed the sweaty, overpowering odor of sex permeating the house, and that would be a dead giveaway if it wasn't gone by tomorrow. Next, we went upstairs and went room by room, making a list of things that needed cleaning up or washing. Michelle completely skipped her brother's room again, declaring any mess in there his business. Michelle's bedroom had only been used twice by her, and once that first day, so there wasn't much that needed to be done in there but strip the bed and add the sheets to the pile of washing. The guest room hadn't even been touched, so we left that. The main bathroom upstairs needed a bit of cleaning up, so we added that to the list. The two rooms that needed the most work were Michelle's parents' bedroom and their bathroom. Downstairs, the living room just needed to be tidied up a bit. We always cleaned up the dining room after each use, so there wasn't much there to do. The kitchen wasn't a mess, but there was a bit of cleaning in there. We hadn't even used the downstairs bathroom. That left her father's study and mother's art room. We'd only used them a little that first day. We were getting a bit silly after the first few fucks and had decided each room needed to be christened properly, and loudly. We had to straighten her father's desk a bit, as a large flat surface can come in handy, but we hadn't disturbed anything in her mother's room. So, we now had a list. Michelle decided to leave her parents' bedroom and bathroom until tomorrow morning since we'd only mess them up again by then. It was late afternoon before we managed to complete everything on the list, with a few breaks for lunch and carnal recreation. We were all sweaty and dusty by that time, so we decided a nice long soak would help. It got rid of the dusty part, but we managed to work up another sweat by the time we got out. The two girls got real playful when they got naked and wet. The most memorable event for me was a little contest between them to see who could get me to cum first. We sat in the hot, swirling water, and they'd take turns diving under and blowing me, switching when they had to come up for air. Michelle had the better lung capacity and could stay down longer, but Kathy had the experience and technique and managed to get me to shoot off in her mouth. As usual now, Kathy shared her winnings with Michelle in a sticky, soulful kiss. After that, we just ordered a pizza for supper and spent the rest of the night in bed watching a couple more of the movies we hadn't gotten to yet. It was a thrill watching them, but much better experiencing the real thing with my two lovely girls. Saturday - Last Day ------------------- I was going to really miss waking up like this every morning. I just lay there, still half asleep, as a soft, warm wetness engulfed me, sending little bursts of pleasure up my spine. Opening my still foggy eyes, I looked down and saw both Michelle and Kathy very busily, and noisily, slurping on my erect cock. One would swallow my cock, and the other would suck on my balls, then they'd switch positions, and then from either side of my cock, they would French kiss, their tongues licking around it to meet. "Kathy?" I said in a daze. When she looked up, I added, "Come here." I reached for her, pulling her first in for a long, wet kiss before pulling her up so she could straddle my face. This time, I had her so she was facing towards me, so when I looked up, I could see her small, firm breasts jiggle and her pretty, elfin face contort with passion as my tongue went to work on her. I could feel Michelle busy down below, sucking on me like a vacuum cleaner, and her newfound expertise was having a quick effect on me. I let out a scream into Kathy's pussy as I shot stream after stream of jism into Michelle's mouth. She hung on, keeping me inside the whole time, only releasing me after my last spasm and then licking me clean. She was getting very good at that. I was going to really miss that tomorrow morning. Kathy still hadn't reached her own peak yet, so I concentrated on her firm little clit, only diving down every ten seconds to lick up the excess moisture and shove my tongue deep inside her. Sucking on her hard knob, I felt her shiver in anticipation of what was to come. When she began to grind herself into my face, I knew she was there. Giving her sensitive clit a long, tight lick, I quickly moved down to the slit leading inside and fucked her with my tongue as she began to convulse in ecstasy. Looking up, I saw her face tighten, then her eyes fly wide open as the high point of the orgasm hit her. She never looked more beautiful than she did right then. I continued to lick at her as she dropped, and she had to pull away from me when the I touched her now supremely sensitive clit. She collapsed next to me, a beatific smile on her face, her breath still coming in short pants. "That...that was reeeeeeally good." I reached out and kissed her so she could have a taste of herself, then feeling Michelle cuddle up close behind me, I turned to her and let her have a taste too. We just lay there, our wet skin pressed to each other for an eternity. None of us wanted to move, to lose that moment together. But we still had much to do. "We'd better get up," Michelle finally had to say. The three of us sighed with reluctance, but agreed that we had to get up. Gathered in the shower, we all washed each other down. The sensation of all that soapy, silky smooth skin quickly excited me. I pulled over the bench and lay back on it the same way I had yesterday. Kathy came over to my head, but instead, I picked her little body right off the floor and lowered her onto my hard, throbbing cock. Then I pulled Michelle over and told her I wanted to eat her. She'd done such a good job this morning that I wanted to reciprocate. She was a bit reluctant, but all three of us had given her a good washing, and she was as clean as she could ever be. When she straddled my face, facing a happily bobbing Kathy, I pulled her down and stabbed my tongue deep up inside her. I didn't notice any difference in taste. She was still my yummy Michelle. Reaching up with my hands, I found that Kathy had already assumed her usual position, her face glued to one of Michelle's ample breasts as she hungrily sucked in a hard nipple. I reached over and caught one of her own and began to tweak the nipple as I gently stroked the side of her face with the other. I don't know if it was that Michelle was primed because it had been days since I had last eaten her or it was just that I was getting better at gobbling pussy, but it only took a minute before she started humping my face and covering it with her sweet juices as she came. As she reached the down point and started to relax, she began to pull off me, but I grabbed her by her hips and held her to me so I could keep mining between her legs with my tongue. I didn't stop or let go until she finally reached another one, this time with both Kathy and I joining in. As we shakily separated, our muscles quivering from the workout, we realized that we were going to have to wash ourselves again. After getting ourselves clean, we kept the shower running and began the long job of scrubbing the shower. It became much easier when Michelle jumped out for a moment to come back with a big sponge mop. We mopped off each wall and the floor until no evidence of our presence. Out of the shower, we dropped the face-cloths we had used in a clothes hamper and began to wipe each other dry with large, fluffy towels. Reasonably dry now, Michelle added the towels to the laundry, stripped the bed in the other room, and ran downstairs to throw everything in the washing machine. At the same time, Kathy and I began the long job of cleaning the Jacuzzi. On hands and knees, we scrubbed it with sponges until it gleamed like new. Michelle had come back up and was washing out the toilet and the bidet. It was 10:30 before Michelle judged that the bathroom was as clean as we were going to get it. In the bedroom, we made the bed and gathered every article of clothes or evidence we had been there. I had to remind Michelle to make sure she put away her parents' tape collection back where she had got them from. Then we retired downstairs for a late breakfast. By 11:00, we had finished and dropped all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. We only had an hour left together. Michelle's parents weren't due back until later this afternoon, but we had decided to play it safe and go our separate way by noon. I grabbed a girl's hand in each of mine and pulled them behind me as I went back upstairs. Instead of her parents' room, I headed to Michelle's own. There was no use messing up, and maybe smelling up, a room we would just have to clean again. Michelle's room would be much safer. "I want to make love to each of you once more," I told the two beautiful, naked girls standing before me. The bed was big enough for two if they were really friendly, which we intended to be. "Michelle can go first," Kathy said. "You're hers." Michelle reached out for her friend, pulled her into a tight hug, and gave her a long, wet kiss that left them both gasping for breath. "Not any more," Michelle finally announced. She turned to me, her eyes saying "please," and asked me, "You don't mind if we share you from now on, do you?" I pulled her to me and kissed her just as passionately as she had kissed Kathy, then turned to Kathy and asked, "What do you think of that?""She just took a running jump, knocking us both back onto the bed and added another kiss to the lot. "I think she agrees," Michelle said with a giggle. "And it looks like she's going first." My penis had to agree with that as it jumped up and began to dig into Kathy's thigh. I reached down and aimed it toward its goal and then pushed my hips up until it penetrated. "Uhhhhhh," Kathy groaned, finally releasing my mouth from hers. I rolled us over so I was on top and began to slowly thrust deep inside her. Bending forward, I sucked in one of those hard cherries at the tip of her breasts and began to chew on it. I stopped everything as I began to hear a sobbing sound and looked up at Kathy's face to see her crying, with long streams of tears flowing down the sides of her face. "Don't stop!" she cried out to me. "Never stop." I started thrusting back into her and leaned over to lick the salty trails off of her, then planted a series of light kisses over her entire face. I felt a hand on my back and turned to find Michelle sitting on the edge of the bed, a happy smile beaming down at us. She gently stroked my back in the same rhythm as I pounded into Kathy. "Yes!" Kathy began to scream as her pelvis pushed against me and her vagina clamped itself around my cock, holding me tight inside as it milked me dry of semen. "Yes!" She wrapped her arms around me and held on tightly until our hearts slowed down back to normal, then with a small sad smile she gave me a peck on the lips and said, "Michelle's turn now." My cock made a slurping suction sound as it pulled out of Kathy, dripping slowly onto the blanket beneath us. Michelle looked at Kathy and then my sticky cock. "You want to clean it," she asked Kathy. Kathy gave me a long look before shaking her head, "I'll do it after he's filled you up too. Unless you want to do it." "It's all yours," Michelle declared as she lay stretched out on her back next to us. "Good," Kathy said, clapping her hands like a little girl. "I want to taste all three of us." My cock had only begun to soften, and the thought of sweet little Kathy licking it clean after I came in Michelle hardened it right back up fast enough. I just moved a foot to my right so I was between Michelle's thighs and pushed inside her already dripping pussy. Kathy just lay next to us, a blissful glow about her, as I began to pump and roll my hips into Michelle. As I leaned forward to suck in a nipple like I had on Kathy, she joined in and sucked in the other one. Michelle seemed to really like that and began to purr passionately back to us. "You really like my boobs?" Michelle asked her friend. "They're so big and beautiful," Kathy answered back before gobbling it back into her mouth. Michelle reached out with a hand and began to rub her fingertips over Kathy's nipples in return. "Mine are so small," Kathy finally said, saliva running down her chin and covering Michelle's breast. "Even Steve wished I'd had bigger ones." I had to pull myself off Michelle's breast at that. "Kathy, remember we all know that Steve's an asshole," I told her forcefully. "You have beautiful breasts. I wouldn't change a thing about them." "Do you like them better than Michelle's?" she asked me, a cheeky, knowing smile on her face. "I...I..." I stuttered, looking back and forth between their faces and mammaries. "I...I like them both. You're both so different, but both so beautiful. It would be like comparing apples and..." "...watermelons?" Michelle jumped in before both girls began to giggle uncontrollably. I reached out and pulled Kathy into a kiss, then did the same to Michelle. "I love you both," I said. There, I said the 'L' word. I didn't think I'd have the nerve to do it, but it just came out. I don't know if it was that or just the mood that we were in, but Michelle took that moment to climax. She let out a single loud gasp as she gushed wetly over my cock. Her whole lower body spasming again and again. I managed only a few more pumps before I shot deep inside of her. As I slowly pulled out and saw the sticky mess that covered my limp cock, I realized that Kathy was in for a real meal. She just stared at it, yelled "Yum!", and dived down to feast. First, she licked the excess that was dripping off my balls and onto the bed, then worked her way up, careful not to miss a drop, until she reached my penis. Then, she grabbed my balls in her hand and milked any stray drops left inside out and quickly licked them off and swallowed them. Michelle and I just watched in silent awe. After she was finished, the three of us just lay huddled, a tangle of sweaty body parts in the bed. I was the first to notice that Michelle's alarm clock said it was 12:10. "It's after 12:00," I said. "We'd better go." "I don't want to go," Kathy said, tightening her grip on the two of us. "Neither do I," I said, giving her a short kiss on the chin. "But we don't want Michelle to get in trouble." Kathy slowly released us both, and we awkwardly rolled off the bed. "Want us to help clean this up?" I asked, looking at the sweaty, sticky sheets on the bed. "No," Michelle just said, giving us both a pat and push on our naked bottoms. "You two go get dressed, and I'll meet you downstairs." Kathy and I made our way to the living room where we'd left our bags and dug through them to find clean clothes to wear. I watched her every move as she stepped into her panties and strapped on her bra. It was just as erotic to watch a girl dress as it was to watch her undress. By the time we were both putting on our socks, Michelle had joined us, still stark naked. The three of us just stood looking at each other for a minute. Then Kathy began to sob again. Michelle and I both rushed her, swallowing her little body up in a group hug. The two of us rained kisses back at her until her sobs changed to giggles. "I love you two," Kathy said, joining us in the wet assault. That sent Michelle off now, and I had to fight off a bout myself. Michelle kissed me and whispered, "I love you" at me, then did the same to Kathy. Being the man, thinking I had to be the strong one, I was the first to pull myself out of the group clinch. "I'd better go," I said, picking up my bag. Kathy picked up hers too and hooked it over a shoulder. At the door, we stopped again and each gave the other a quick last kiss. "I'll call you both tonight," I said before opening the door. The girls both agreed to that. Kathy quickly ran out before she could start bawling again. I gave Michelle a quick peck before racing after her. I quickly caught up with her and grabbed her before she could get too far. Walking her home, I held her hand all the way there."She'd always had a knack for manipulating people into being happy. She took that as the compliment we had meant it as. Unfortunately, the school she needed to go to was halfway across the country. Kathy wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to finally study, but her parents wanted her to go to the university where they had met, in Quebec. That was even farther away than Michelle's. Thankfully, languages was one of the few things that she really excelled at, beating both my and Michelle's grades. She was completely fluent in French, which would be a bonus where she was going, and Russian. Her father was originally from Georgia, the Soviet one, not the American one, and had taught her to speak it as she grew up. We spent as much time together as we could before they had to leave, fucking ourselves silly. Then I was alone and had to relearn the acquaintanceship of Mr. Handy. I hadn't really needed him much in the last couple of years. The three of us wrote and phoned each other constantly, and once I talked them through a brief introduction in the UNIX operating system and emailing, we were in touch every day. When either of them came back to town for a visit or a holiday, they'd spend the first day with their family and then I'd rent a hotel room, and we'd spend the day getting to know each other again, again and again. I was still staying with my mom. I know that sucks, but I didn't have the money for both the university and an apartment. The only time the three of us managed to get together was the summer and at Christmas. Then at the beginning of my second year, Kathy surprised us both by telling us she was getting married at Christmas. Michelle was Maid of Honor, and I was invited. Kathy seemed awkward and nervous when we saw each other, but I was glad to see her and wanted to check out her groom-to-be for myself. I've always been more than a little protective of her. Maybe it was the way Steve had treated her, or maybe it was just that she was so small, adorable, and sensitive. Anyway, her soon-to-be husband turned out to be a nice guy, even if he was more than twenty years older than her. It certainly wasn't the first time a professor had fallen for a student. He really seemed to worship Kathy, so I approved. The night before the wedding, Michelle and I were noisily pounding away at each other in our hotel room when a loud thumping on the door made us jump. We donned robes and answered it to find Kathy outside. She was woozy on her feet and more than a little drunk. As soon as she saw us, she began to sob loudly. Inside, both of us held her until she was coherent enough to talk, but all she would do in her present condition was repeat over and over that she was sorry for leaving us, then start to sob again. We both told her that everything was all right and if this guy was making her happy, then everything was great with us. That just started her crying again. That night we slept with a naked Kathy between us, holding her until she cried herself to sleep. We were all naked, and close, but there really wasn't any sexual quality to what we did that night. I was kind of glad about that because Michelle had really worn me out. But I would miss Kathy. Michelle and I went back to school, dated, and sometimes got involved with other people, but always got together when we could. I had just graduated after five years, the engineering program was a five-year course, and Michelle was still going to the same university she had originally chosen when she told me that she was going to get married. This time it didn't come as much as a surprise to me since she had gone on and on about another grad student she had met the last time she had come to town. It may sound strange to you, to lie in a bed dripping from the sweat we had just created during a 2-hour bout of passion and then talk about your love life with other people, but that was how Michelle and my relationship went. Again, I was invited to watch a woman I loved marry another guy, but like I told Kathy the night before her wedding, if he made her happy, I was all for it. Kathy was Michelle's Maid of Honor this time. It was strange seeing her again. I knew all about her life. She and Michelle were still pretty close, and Michelle told me everything. She hadn't changed since the last time I'd seen her, but she was still more than a bit nervous around me. I was alone in my hotel room this time when a knock made me answer the door. It was Kathy again, but this time, she wasn't drunk. I invited her inside, and she timidly entered, and we just stared at each other silently before she started to sob again and ran into my arms. "I missed you so much," she whimpered between tears. "I'm so sorry." That night we got very reacquainted. Neither of us really felt that she was cheating on her husband. From Michelle, I knew that she was still happily married and even had a little boy. It was just two old friends sharing each other. After that, the '3 fuckateers' were back together. We still didn't get together that often, but when we did, it was always hot and relieving. A year after Michelle graduated, the good doctor and her husband moved back to town and set up practice together. I was happy just to see Michelle more often. We had a standing appointment together every week, last thing Friday afternoon in her office. Her receptionist always gave me a knowing look when I went in, but Michelle said he could be trusted. Our sessions together could not really be called psycho-therapy, but there was a lot of primal screaming involved, and we would always end up in each other's arms and then talk through any problems we had. I'm sure Michelle could call the relationship the three of us had some sort of co-dependent gobbledygook, but I always thought we were the sanest people I knew. I was never sure how much the girls' husbands knew about, or understood our relationship, and sometimes felt a little guilty about it, but learned to live with it. Kathy was here last week, but was a bit too pregnant for anything to really happen between us, though she does still give the best blow-jobs I've ever had. The three of us stayed together her last night here, her cheering us on while Michelle and I put on a show for her, then sleeping naked together in the bed. We had to be careful in her condition, but she still looked as beautiful as I had first seen her, even with a stomach that forced her to waddle. Michelle herself has two adorable little girls who just love their uncle Simon. Her eldest is a perfect little miniature version of Michelle, so I know she's going to be a heart-mender when she grows up. I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'm actually her father, but have never felt the need to broach the subject with Michelle. I'm sure she knows, though, that if little Simone ever needs a kidney or anything, I'll be there for her. The end.

Chapter 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16153.txt

J. Boswell

Christmas with the Andersons

'Lakeview Crest,' where the Andersons lived, was a fairly exclusive development of large suburban homes. The land had once been a farm on the crest of a hill overlooking one of the city's man-made lakes that provided water for the area. The land surrounding the community was undeveloped and would stay that way as protected watershed land. The farm should have been subsumed into the watershed decades ago, when the lakes were begun, but for some reason (probably a lot of cash spread over a lot of hands or a connection on the zoning commission) the farm was never included in the public property. Years later, a developer found the farm tucked away down a long, dusty road and made the dying farmer an offer the old farmer couldn't refuse for the continued welfare of his family. The developer quickly subdivided the property into about sixty lots (after some more money passed through some more hands) and built large homes on them. For himself, the developer restored and expanded the Civil War era farmhouse/mansion and lived on the largest and best lot, overlooking the lake. That developer was James Arthur Ripley Stone. Jim Stone was a multi-millionaire and proud to show it. He built shopping strips and malls and suburban office buildings all over the country. And this had been a particularly good year because one of his designs for a medical building became popular with the growing number of HMOs all over the nation. Business couldn't be better. One of his favorite occasions to show off was his annual Christmas Party. His house was decorated in the 1990's interpretation of Victorian England splendor. The forty-foot spruce on the front lawn was expertly shaped and strung with thousands of lights and topped with a four-foot star. For the party, between the house and tree, the lawn was covered with a huge striped tent. Inside the heated tent were more lights and trees, poinsettias, tables, chairs, a long buffet table, Santa, a band, a dance floor, two bars, and people, people, people. Walking around, greeting neighbors, friends, business associates, bankers, company attorneys and CPAs, and the pick of the people providing him and his family with services throughout the year was Jim Stone, playing his most secretly cherished role -- Lord of the Manor. Robert Anderson arrived home in time to shower and dress for the big fete. As the four happy Andersons walked hand-in-hand through the chilly-but-not-cold night to the Stone house, they waved at neighbors and enjoyed seeing all the Christmas decorations. As a neighborhood tradition, on the night of the Stone's party, the entire neighborhood was lit with luminaries placed along the curbs and up driveways. The small white paper bags glowed from the flame of the candle in each, outlining the streets and making each intersection beautiful. It was almost magical. The Andersons made their way up the long, curving driveway of the Stone house and stepped into the tent. After checking their coats, they made their way over to the line of people waiting to wish the Stones a happy holiday. Jim Stone was in a black tuxedo with a bright red velvet bow tie and cummerbund. Beside him was his statuesque wife, Regina, in a floor-length red velvet dress, and beside her, their daughter, Mindy and her husband, Carl. The Stones greeted the Andersons heartily and Regina patted Amanda on the head, "My, you've gotten so big, and so pretty! Who's this gorgeous man next to you, Amanda -- some Hollywood actor on holiday?" Amanda winced at the corniness, but was proud of her big brother, "You remember Bobby, Mrs. Stone. He's home from college." Regina Stone faked an astonished look and grabbed Bobby close to her in a bearhug, "Bobby! I hardly recognized you! College life is certainly agreeing with you. It must be all those young coeds, eh, Bobby?" Bobby could feel himself blushing, "Hi, Mrs. Stone. Good to see you again." Regina hugged Bobby tightly again and whispered into his ear, "Save a few minutes for old Mrs. Stone, later, Bobby, dear. I want to take you over to the house and show you something very special. Okay?" Bobby had no idea what she was talking about but answered, "S-sure, Mrs. Stone. Whenever you're ready." But Regina had already directed her attention to the next couple in the greeting line. Confused, Bobby made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. While he was standing there, admiring the women and girls at the party, his friend Scott sidled up beside him. "Hey." "Hey, yourself, Scott. What's up?" "Well, the food and the booze are great, as usual, but the number of unattached honeys may be at an all time low. But, damn, they all look so good, all dressed up. Anyway, the best looking girl here is your sister." "And she's hands off -- right?" "Sure, sure, Bobby. But I heard about you and one of Amanda's little playmates the other night." Bobby winced, "Yeah, Heather -- don't remind me. Any port in a storm, I guess." Scott smiled, "Yeah. Well, that's a pretty busy port. Docked there, myself, last night. She's a hot little thing!" "She is that." Bobby tilted his head towards their hosts. "So, what have I missed in the Stone's saga by being away for five months?" Scott looked over at Jim Stone, puffing on a huge cigar and laughing loudly. At his side, smiling and greeting people was his wife, Regina. Regina Stone, never at risk of being called "Lady" of the Manor, was, putting it politely, a wild woman. She was a legend in her own time. "The only thing I heard about was the Halloween party, where she showed up in a very small, very red bathing suit and with three male-model hunks in tow in red bathing suits. She said they were `Baywatch.'" "She's unbelievable." Bobby started to tell Scott about Regina's strange invitation, but decided to keep it to himself for the moment. He ordered another beer. "Amanda! Amanda Anderson!" Amanda turned from watching the dancers to see the Miller family approaching. "Hi, Mrs. Miller, Rasheed, Yolanda." Amanda's smile dimmed as she looked at Mr. Miller, "Hello." Mrs. Miller was all smiles and full of good cheer, "Amanda, where have you been, girlfriend? The kids miss you terribly. Any chance of you coming back?" Amanda had babysat for the Miller children for over a year, and had spent almost the entire summer watching them. But with starting high school and trying out for teams, she hadn't had the time. "And I miss the kids. But, no, I just don't have the time with my schoolwork and games and practice." "Well, you are the best babysitter we've ever had, dear. Isn't she, Ron?" She looked at her husband. He smiled and nodded, "No doubt about that. The best ever." Amanda spent a few minutes chatting with the young children and then wished the Millers a merry Christmas. Mrs. Miller hugged Amanda. "Thanks, Dear. Please stop by during the holidays. The kids have something wrapped for you under the tree. You have to stop by, anyway, Amanda. Besides Christmas, this year we're celebrating Kwanzaa, too. The kids are learning all about it in day school." "Sure, I'll stop by, Mrs. Miller. I think there's some stuff for Yolanda and Rasheed under our tree, too. It was nice to see all of you again. Merry Christmas." Hours later, the party had settled into its normal routine. Amanda was with her friends, taking one of the carriage rides through the neighborhood.Robert, Senior was engrossed in conversation with the other businessmen in the neighborhood, raging against government interference, wishing for the return of the Reagan years, and drinking Jim Stone's bourbon. Laurie was happily dancing the night away, and maybe holding her partners just a little tighter than necessary during the slow tunes. And, Bobby? Bobby was sitting close to the bar with a few friends when he caught Regina Stone subtly motioning to him. She was standing near the exit, curling her finger, indicating he was to join her. As he stood, Regina motioned again and disappeared out of the tent. Bobby followed Regina out of the tent and through the covered passage to the house. Ahead of him, she mounted the steps, crossed the porch and opened the front door, leaving it open behind her. ['What the hell is going on?' Bobby wondered.] She had hardly even acknowledged his existence before tonight, and now this? What did she want to show him? Why was she staying so far ahead and having him follow her? He really had no idea what was going on, but with her reputation and history of outrageous behavior, some small part of him hoped it would be something sexy. Regina Stone had been a model. Not a Milan/New York runway model, but one of the more famous local faces. She had done many area fashion shows and benefits and had been a regular in the pages of local stores' ads and catalogs. It was at a Christmas charity show, where she and a few other girls were modeling lingerie in a very private show for a very select group of wealthy businessmen that she met Jim Stone. She knew the look in his eyes the instant she saw him, and she knew she was going to marry well. Now, years later, with a husband away nine months of the year and all the money she could spend, she did exactly as she pleased and didn't care who was watching. Jim Stone had a pretty good idea what went on behind his back but he was nearing sixty-five and could no longer keep up with his much younger wife, and he didn't want to spend the time and energy to find another wife. Besides, Regina still looked good and handled all the things he expected his wife to handle, and, his ego liked the idea of these other men wanting his wife -- he wondered how many of the guests they had greeted at the start of the evening (neighbors, friends, landscapers, pool cleaners, construction workers, deliverymen and on and on) had tasted Regina's considerable charms often and enthusiastically during the years while he was away on business. And, finally, and maybe the best reason he tolerated her indiscretions was that there was no pre-nuptial agreement. Bobby was surprised to see so many people in the house. He thought the party was confined to the tent, but there were people looking at the Stone's Christmas tree, decorated differently each year (this year, it looked like all the ornaments were Irish crystal). There was food in the dining room and dozens of bottles of wine open on the table. The wide stairway was blocked with wide red ribbons -- a sign to the guests to remain downstairs. When Bobby finally saw Regina again, she was standing in the kitchen doorway. She tilted her head for Bobby to follow and walked through the crowd of caterer's people busily rushing about the kitchen with hot pans and dishes of steaming food. Around the corner, Bobby found the back stairs to the second floor. When he entered the stairwell, he saw Regina looking down from the top step. She smiled and said, "Lock it behind you, dearie, and hurry up!" As Bobby reached the top of the stairs he looked to his right and saw what was obviously the master bedroom suite. To his left, Regina was motioning for him to join her in another room at the end of the long hall. Bobby reached the doorway and looked in, thanking the gods in heaven as he watched Regina lowering the long zipper on her red party dress. "Come in, Bobby. Don't be shy. Here, darling, help me with my zipper." Bobby stepped closer and pulled the zipper down until it stopped. Regina turned to face him and with the slightest arm motion, her dress slid to the floor. "Merry Christmas, Bobby!" Bobby stared in awe. He guessed Regina was somewhere in her mid-to-late-forties, but here she stood looking incredible. Her skin was white and smooth. Her breasts were fabulous -- high and firm on her chest. She was still wearing her high heels and pantyhose but they were the strangest pantyhose he had ever seen. At the top there were openings, and the hose went up to a waistband, almost like a built-in garter belt, leaving her pussy and ass naked! Regina smiled at the obvious rapture on Bobby's face. "You like, Bobby-dear?" She cupped her breasts in her hands, squeezing the flesh and pinching her nipples. "These are the best money can buy. Did your mom buy hers? Or is she one of those lucky ones who were born with a set of knockers like that? Well, come on, boy, enough gawking, let's get this show on the road! I have a party I'm hosting!" With that, Regina reached down and started unbuckling Bobby's belt. In seconds, Bobby had shed his pants, underwear, and shoes and followed Regina down on to the big bed. "Nothing above the neck, Bobby-dear. Mustn't mess up my make-up." Bobby lavished kisses on her large tits, licking and sucking and nibbling her nipples. "Ohh, very nice, dearie. Can you go a little lower?" Eager to please, Bobby kissed his way down Regina's stomach and into her trimmed bush, finding her hard, little clit. He sucked it between his teeth and began licking it with his tongue. "Oh, god, how I love young men!" Regina exclaimed. While this wild scene played out, Bobby couldn't believe it was happening. He felt he was living out one of his junior high wet dreams. Here he was in bed with one of the major players in many of his wet dreams. Regina Stone had fueled more than a few hand-jobs. She had been the first woman Bobby had ever seen in a thong bikini. Even dressed up, Bobby had seen few lower-cut blouses or shorter miniskirts than what Regina Stone wore. He remembered some of her costumes at neighborhood Halloween parties -- as a harem girl, a sexy nurse right out of a porno video, and as Lady Godiva. He had heard the stories about her and her many torrid affairs behind Jim Stone's back. And, now, he was a participant in the legend! "Ooooo! You're good! Right there, boy. Right there. Steady... A little faster... Ooo, good... Harder... Oooo... Oooo... A-huh! Ooooo, here I come, darling! Here I come!" Bobby continued nibbling her clit until she began to regain her composure. "Oh, Bobby, that was VERY good. Come on up and fuck me now, boy!" Bobby lifted his head from her wet pussy and licked his way up to her breasts. As he did, he moved his cock into position and plunged it into her cunt. She was slippery wet and loose and he began to feel her pussy muscles rippling along his shaft. He began to pump and her muscles grasped him tighter. It was a great fuck! "MOTHER! Just what are you doing?" Bobby looked over at the doorway and saw Regina's daughter, Mindy standing there. Part of him wanted to pull out and run, but it felt so damned good and Regina looked up at him and said, "Ignore her. She's jealous I got you first. Just fuck me." And Bobby did. He was soon coming in strong spurts and Regina was heaving her hips up to meet his thrusts. Finished, he rolled off Regina and watched as she grabbed her dress. To his utter amazement, as Regina stepped into her gown, Mindy was stepping out of hers. Regina turned her back to Mindy and Mindy pulled Regina's zipper up. Regina turned to Bobby, kissed him lightly on the lips and said, "Welcome to the club, Bobby. I'll be looking forward to seeing you when you get home for the Summer. Don't make yourself a stranger, understand?" "Sure, Mrs. Stone. And, thanks!" "You're welcome. Now you and Mindy have a good time and I'll see you later." Bobby looked at Mindy. She was standing in her bra, pantyhose and panties, smiling at Bobby. "You must have been good, Bobby. Contrary to popular belief, Mother doesn't invite everyone back. Why don't you get comfortable?" Bobby felt foolish as he realized that he was still dressed in his blazer, shirt, tie, and socks! He quickly stripped them all off and turned to Mindy. She smiled again, "Now, can you show ME how good you are?" Bobby walked toward Mindy. Mindy wasn't the tall beauty that her mother was. She was short and lean, and not nearly as rounded as Regina. Her hair and eyes were brown and her face was long and angular, with a fairly prominent nose and large teeth. As she dropped her bra to the floor, Bobby saw that her breasts were small and low on her chest and were already sagging. When she dropped her pantyhose and panties to the floor, Bobby noticed how thin her thighs were and how bushy her pussy was. ['Oh, well,' he thought, 'she's no beauty, but I'm not about to refuse her and destroy my welcome around here!'] Mindy dropped to her knees and sucked Bobby's sloppy-wet prick into her mouth. Bobby's fingers combed into her hair and held her face tight to his groin as his cock revived itself in her steamy hot mouth. Bobby thought his dick popped out another inch or two when Mindy slid a finger up his ass! Mindy pulled her face away from his prick and looked up at the teenager, "I want you good and hard because I like it up the ass. Have you ever fucked anyone up the ass, Bobby?" Bobby groaned and pulled Mindy up by her armpits. As they kissed passionately, Mindy rubbed her wet pussy slit up against the boy's hard cock. They both fell back onto the bed and Mindy rolled over on to her stomach, "Butt-fuck me, Bobby! Shove it up my ass!"Over an hour later, Bobby stumbled back down to the tent. The party had cleared out considerably, and there were only a few clusters of people sitting around some tables. His parents and sister were gone. Regina Stone was sitting at one table, between her husband and her son-in-law. She smiled at Bobby as he turned away from the bar with a beer. He smiled back and made his way over to the table with Scott and a few other neighborhood friends. "Hey, bud, where the fuck have you been?" Scott asked. "Around. Being a good guest, checking out the Christmas decorations." "Yeah, sure." "Truth." Bobby gulped his beer and got another one. He was wiped out. Fucking Regina had been a dream come true, but fucking Mindy had been unbelievable. She was the most outrageous woman he had ever been to bed with, and as far as he could tell, there wasn't a single thing either one of them could think of that she wasn't willing to do, and do enthusiastically. Who would believe that it wasn't sexy, obvious, flamboyant Regina, but her quiet, mousy daughter that could fuck the dead back to life! What a night! Chapter 11 Saturday, December 24 Christmas Eve! Amanda had intentionally saved some of her shopping for Christmas Eve. She loved the excitement and the hustle-bustle of that last frantic rush. Bobby slept late and went into couch-potato mode in front of the TV. There were a couple of small bowl games on, and he could always find a movie or two. Robert, Sr., relaxed in front of the fire and reviewed his portfolio as Laurie finished wrapping the last of the presents. After a late lunch, all four of them worked together preparing for an Anderson Christmas tradition. They laid out a buffet, and by eight o'clock, friends, neighbors, and relatives were stopping by to share the holiday spirit before everyone went off to Midnight Mass. Sunday, December 25. Christmas Day! Laurie awoke first. She loved those first quiet moments on Christmas morning. Soon, the rest of the family would be awake and opening presents, and all the anticipation would be over. Before they knew it, Christmas would be over. But now, alone with her coffee and the radio softly playing Christmas carols, she sat and looked at the tree and the presents and savored the moment and the mood. "Mom?" It was Amanda on the steps. "Merry Christmas, Dear! Go wake your father and brother." Everyone agreed that Amanda had given the most thoughtful gifts. She gave Bobby two boxed sets of CDs, Eric Clapton and Pink Floyd, that he wanted but had never gotten around to buying. Her father loved the meerschaum pipe she gave him. And Laurie cried when she opened her package and saw the beautiful blue silk blouse that Amanda had picked out to match her mother's eyes. They all wanted to know how she had managed to save enough money to purchase such beautiful gifts. All too soon the storm of wrapping paper subsided. The hugs and kisses and thank-yous were done. The Andersons were dressed and headed out to Church, again. Amanda was singing at the 11 o'clock Mass, and the rest of the family went to hear her. After church, they headed down to the soup kitchen to serve Christmas dinner to the less fortunate and then clean up. It was a busy day. Not a creature was stirring... Everyone had gone to bed early. Amanda lay in bed and thought back over her Christmas. It had been wonderful. She loved all of her gifts and was thrilled that everyone liked the gifts she had gotten them. She was tired, but still a little too keyed up to fall asleep. She got out of bed, put her robe on, and went downstairs. The house was quiet; everyone else was asleep. She filled a tall glass with ice and then filled the glass with Irish Cream. There was still a small fire glowing in the fireplace, and the ashes were hot, so Amanda threw another two logs on the fire and curled up on the sofa. Soon, the fire was warming her outsides and her drink was warming her insides, and she began to relax. She finished the Irish Cream and poured another half-glass. She was enjoying the heat and the quiet and the tree lights and the booze. She liked the slight buzz she was feeling, too. She shifted a little on the sofa, and as she did, her nightshirt was pulled taut across her nipple. ['Oooo, THAT felt good!' she thought and then giggled.] As she held the glass in her left hand, she opened her robe and casually brushed the fingers of her right hand over her right nipple. She let out a tiny moan as she felt her nipple wrinkle and harden. ['I can't believe I'm still horny,' she thought, 'but this sure feels good!'] Amanda swallowed the rest of her drink and then placed both hands over her breasts. They were firm and eager to be touched. Her nipples were hard and were getting to that point that she loved -- when she could be a little rough as she squeezed and pinched them. She wanted to come. There was no doubt about that, now. She knew she should go to the privacy of her room, but she didn't want to move. She strained her ears, listening, but the house was quiet except for the flames popping and snapping. It was sexy, and definitely very naughty to be doing it in the family room with everyone home. In front of the fireplace was nice. That warmth would feel nice on her skin. With a quick movement, Amanda stood up, lowered her panties, and sat back down on the sofa. She pulled her nightshirt up above her breasts, and she was melting in pleasure from the heat of the fireplace and her own hands. It felt so sexy sitting there with her boobs and pussy naked and exposed. She wanted to finger her clit, but she held back. She didn't want to come quickly. She wanted to build up to it slowly, thinking sexy thoughts and teasing her body with her fingers. She thought about yesterday, Christmas Eve, at the mall..."What were you getting for letting him bone you?" Amanda was going to lie and say "nothing," but she quickly decided that the truth didn't matter. "A boxed set of Eric Clapton CDs." "A boxed set, eh? You that good?" "He says I am." "Is that so? Well, how about this, little girlie? I get to see for myself how good you are?" Amanda didn't say anything, but shook her head. "No? Well, how about I make this clear? You walk with me through that door and we go to Mall Security and call the county cops, or you walk over here and unzip me." Amanda walked over to the owner and knelt. She reached up and pulled his zipper down. She reached inside the opening and found his cock, feeling it growing hard in her hand. "Taste it, bitch." Amanda leaned forward and took his hardness into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the smooth, pink tip and it no longer mattered whose cock it was. She loved the way penises felt. She loved the smoothness and the firmness and how warm they were. Abruzzi was enjoying the blow-job, but he wanted a piece of this young pussy. "Stand up. Walk over to the chair and bend over." Amanda did as she was told and pulled her skirt up to her waist without being told. Abruzzi stepped behind the teenager and began pushing his cock between her pink pussylips. She was tight and the owner was afraid he was going to cum even before he got it all the way in her! He didn't last much longer than his first deep thrust. The kid matched his rhythm and before he could blink, he was spewing his goo into the little slut's pussy. "Whew! What a fuck! Douglas is right, you are good." Amanda was blushing wildly as she stepped and wiggled into her panties and lowered her skirt. "Can I keep the CDs, mister?" "Huh? Oh, sure. Sure. Here," he said as he reached to a shelf, "take another one, too. You like Pink Floyd?" "Yeah, sure. Thank you." Peter Abruzzi was sitting in the chair, still catching his breath and fixing a drink as Amanda placed the new set into her bag and reached for the doorknob. "Well, thanks again. And... and Merry Christmas." Abruzzi looked up and stared as the beautiful teenager waved and walked out of the store room.She and Amber and Heather had often talked about sex and how to do it. The three of them had agreed that they would never put a penis in their mouths -- not the thing boys pee with! But here she was, eagerly and curiously moving her mouth to do exactly that! She licked it. She sucked it. She kissed it. She made it wet with her saliva. And Ron seemed to be enjoying everything she was doing. Finally, Ron pulled her face away from his penis and she knew what was next. It was the next logical step and she wanted it. She knew at that moment that she loved this beautiful man. Ron reached over to the night table and squeezed something clear out of a tube and spread it over the head of his penis. Then he knelt between Amanda's wide-open legs. "Is this your first time?" Embarrassed, Amanda nodded. "If it hurts, it will only hurt for a second and then it will feel good. Okay? Do you trust me, Amanda?" Again, she nodded. But it didn't hurt. Maybe it was horseback riding, or her gymnastics or the other sports she played, but there was definitely no pain. Amanda knew she was addicted to what they were doing from the second that his penis head spread her pussy lips and plunged into her. She had never felt anything like it! The pleasure of feeling so spread, so filled and all her nerves down there sending pleasure messages to her brain. She knew she never wanted to stop fucking Ron Miller. And fuck him she did. All summer. The day after that first time Amanda went to the clinic and started on the pill. Ron used condoms until it was safe. As soon as the kids were in bed, so were they. Marian would come home for a day or two and they would stop, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Then she would leave and Ron and Amanda would get right back to it. He showed her what he liked and what positions he wanted. He loved fucking doggy-style and having his dick sucked, but he never went down on her. She asked him once, late in the summer, and all he said was that he didn't do that. It didn't really matter all that much to her. When the end of the summer approached, Amanda began to wonder what was going to happen. As unlikely as their situation looked because of their ages, Amanda had told Ron that she loved him and she had shown him she could handle the house -- cooking and cleaning and raising the children. He had to know she wasn't doing it for the lousy five dollars an hour they were paying her. But Marian returned, and Ron didn't say anything to Amanda other than "thanks for your help with the kids." Her heart was broken. But it didn't take long to find out that Ron was not the only man in the world. Weekend parties offered Amanda her choice of boys -- and she exercised that choice. Now, almost naked before the dying fire, Amanda spread her pussy lips with her fingers and with her other hand inserted three fingers into her pussy as she rubbed her clitoris with her thumb. She was thinking of the date she had had with a boy named Philip. Philip was only visiting for the weekend and he had begged -- actually begged! -- Amanda to let him eat her. It had been her pleasure! Just like now! She was losing control. She was about to come. She knew she was going to scream so she bit a mouthful of her robe and nightshirt. She was coming! Oh, GOD! How she was coming! Her whole body, her whole mind was coming! She was lost to the world. She was going to scream, to faint, to cry. OH, GOD, WHAT A COME! It went on and on and on. It was the come she had wanted. Long and intense and deep. Oh, god! She lay there and spit the cloth from her mouth and replaced it with a silly grin. Oh, that was GOOD! It would be perfect if she could feel a big, fat, hard cock sliding into her wet pussy, deeper and harder than her fingers had been. Oh, she'd love to be getting fucked right now! And she's laying there on the floor, with her nightshirt rolled up to her neck, her legs spread wide. The mantle clock softly chimes midnight. Christmas is over. Amanda hears a quiet noise at the doorway. She looks up. She doesn't move. She smiles. "Hello, big brother..."

Part 4 of 4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/18227.txt

Chili Peeler

Sordid Conception

'Oh, God help me, that was so good,' Brenda thought as they became still. She could feel her womb awash in Brad's seed, and she said a quick silent prayer that she would become pregnant. She'd wanted the actual conception to be memorable, and this certainly would be. "Thank you," she whispered toward Brad's ear. "Have you two...finished?" Brad's mother's voice called. 'I forgot all about her...she heard everything!' Brenda thought, her face becoming red with embarrassment. She gave a push up at Brad to get him moving out and off of her, and she pushed at the inside of his elbow, trying to get him to remove his hand from under her nightshirt. "Yes," she answered Mrs. Larrington's question. Brad pushed himself up off her, going back on his knees as his deflating cock slipped out of her, the covers falling down behind his ass. His eyes dropped down, and Brenda realized he was staring right at her spermy sex. Quickly, she pulled the nightshirt down just as his mother came into sight on his left. "Are you all right?" his mother said kindly. "Yeah..." Brenda answered, "uh...Brad did his job." "I certainly did!" Brad said, not even moving to cover himself. And in front of his own mother! "Brad, get your shorts on and let us be alone, if you don't mind," his mother said, keeping her gaze averted. "All right," he said toward his mother. But before he moved off the bed, he reached down to rub her left knee and said, "I hope that gives you what you want." He said it with such sincerity, Brenda thought, and in the emotional state she was in, she teared up. Brad climbed off the bed without putting on his shorts. He just picked them up off the bed and walked out of the room. "You sure you're O.K.?" his mother asked, sitting beside her to stroke her forehead. "I feel good, Sharon, really I do." "Well, let's get your hips elevated," Sharon said, taking some of the pillows in her hands. In a few moments, they had several pillows and the towel under her. "I know this is a position feels stupid but I want you to stay like this for about an hour," Sharon said, again sitting down beside her to rub her arm. Mrs. Larrington had a look on her face like she had at her wedding to Chris. "I'm very proud of you, Brenda...you're doing a good thing for the family." "Sharon, I hope I didn't embarrass you before..." Brenda started, then trailed off. "No, why would you think that?" "I didn't maintain much control before...I was too verbal, wasn't I?" Sharon laughed softly. "Brenda, I've had two kids. When you make a baby, it's always like that. We talked about that before. Now, I want you to just relax and think good thoughts until I come back. Who knows, something could be happening in you right now." Sharon leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then, she stood and headed to leave the bedroom. "I'll be back in a bit," she promised as she closed the door behind her. Brenda closed her eyes and daydreamed about the baby...and Brad.The small bathroom filled with her unrestrained encouraging groans as she began to grind her cunt on her son's face, his hands pulling her feminine furrow tight on his knowing mouth. She pulled the top of her skirt tight against her stomach and looked down at the fleshy folds of her mons as they rubbed on Brad's mouth and nose. His eyes were open, looking up at her, egging her on. She felt his tongue press into the oily hole of her pussy, felt him breathing like an enraged bull right up her cunt! "OHBRAD!" she cried, much louder than she wanted, as she closed her eyes and grabbed handfuls of her son's long hair. Her skirt, forgotten, dropped down to cover his head. She began to really fuck herself on Brad's face, rolling her hips crazily, feeling his nose raking back and forth on her clit. "MMMMMMHHHHHMMM....OOOOHHHHHHHEEEWWWWW!" she moaned loudly as her pussy exploded in release. She felt Brad sucking and sucking, felt him pushing her back against the wall as her shoe slipped off the toilet seat and she threatened to keel over on him. Her thighs shivered as Brad tongued her beautifully down through the pent-up passion that his episode with Brenda had created. A minute later, she raised her skirt back up and watched as Brad kissed her matted pubes. "That ought to hold you over for a while," he said with a smile. Brenda opened her eyes as the bedroom door opened. Sharon walked in, smiling as she usually was. "How are we doing?" Sharon said, walking around the bed. "Just fine." "I think you can get up now. Would you like to take a shower?" "No, I'll take one at home," Brenda said, swinging her feet onto the floor as she sat up. "I think I'll just go and relax until Chris gets home tonight." "And then....." Sharon said as she helped Brenda stand. They had talked about what she should do later. "And then, I'll make love to Chris. And we'll make a baby." Both knew that any baby would be Brad's, but there would always be the possibility that it would be her husband's. And that would be something to hold onto in the years ahead. "That's my girl," Sharon said, giving her a hug. "Now, go and get dressed, and I'll see you downstairs." Sharon headed back downstairs, and Brenda wondered what had put the light gait in her mother-in-law's step. She marked it up to the thought of having a grandchild to spoil. Brenda turned and went into the bathroom to put her clothes back on. Brad gave his mother's ass a quick feel as she walked by the kitchen table. She slapped his hand away and gave him a nasty look as the sound of feet descending the stairs announced the imminent appearance of Brenda in the kitchen. 'She won't be slapping my hand once she ushers Brenda out,' Brad thought to himself. He'd given her a good orgasm with his mouth, but he knew he would be able to convince her into a more fulfilling fucking. His dick was hard just thinking about slipping his meat to his mother all afternoon. Brenda stepped into the kitchen, dressed again in the clothes she had arrived in. He saw the way Brenda looked at him - there was something in that look. He'd definitely won her over! She was looking at him like a love-sick puppy. "Brenda, you look absolutely radiant," his mother said, laying it on thick, he thought. Brenda didn't look all that different from when she came, except maybe her hair, which was sort of mussed up. "I feel good," Brenda said. "Let's keep our fingers crossed, huh?" "We certainly will. You've got everything? Okay then...I'll walk you out," his mother began to take Brenda toward the front door. "Thanks, Brad," Brenda said over her shoulder. "My pleasure," he replied, rising to his feet to follow them. His mother kept up a constant stream of good thoughts and suggestions on how Brenda should spend the rest of her day as she walked Brenda to her car. Brenda got behind the wheel, started the car and, after a motherly peck on the cheek from his mother, she backed out of the driveway as his mother came up the stairs to join him on the porch. "Bye, dear!" his mother called as Brenda put the car in Drive and started down the road. "Bye, Brenda....thanks for the fuck!" he said only loud enough for his mother to hear. She gave him a wry smile. "Brad, why don't you thank me as well? I'm the one that arranged the whole thing," she said as she went by him, heading back inside. "Hell, Mom, I plan to thank you all day long," he boasted as he closed the front door behind them and wrapped his arms around her from the back. "Brad! Not out here," she whined as he pushed his boner into the small of her back. "Come on, Mom. You liked it in the bathroom. Let's christen the living room." He wanted to get wild after being with Brenda and doing his mother on the family couch sounded like a hot time. She was definitely paranoid about doing anything sexual downstairs, but this was probably going to be his best chance. She wanted it as much as he. Keeping his left arm wrapped around her waist, he dove his right hand up under her skirt. "No one can see in the windows. The house is darker than the outside. Someone would have to be on the front porch to have any chance of seeing us. And we'd see any car that pulled up." "Ooohhhh, Braaaddd!" his mother said with a shudder as his fingers teased her unpantied cunt. She hadn't put her panties back on after the bathroom cunnilingus session. "No, let's go upstairs, baby!" "No! We're going to do it right here on the couch," he said, walking them both toward the sofa. "Come on, do it with me here and I'll do whatever you want the rest of the day." 'That got her!' he thought. She seemed to relax, stopped resisting him. They were in front of the couch, and she began to spin in his arm. He let her turn around until she was facing him, her pretty face upturned to his. Her smile told him he had won. "Anything I want?" she said, her hand finding the bulge in his shorts. "Yeah, whatever you want. I'll do it." He wondered what she had in mind, but whatever it was, he was sure to enjoy it too. He moved past her, pulled down his shorts and underwear and sat down on the couch. His stiff cock wagged drunkenly above his belly, beckoning his mother. "Suck me awhile and I'll watch for anyone pulling in the driveway. And then you can sit on it backwards and keep a lookout while we fuck." His mother looked out the front window, then back to him. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" she said, unzipping the back of her skirt. With a little shake of her hips, the skirt pooled around her ankles. She made no move to take off her blouse, which was just long enough to hide her pussy from his view. "I'm only doing this to make you my slave for the rest of the day. Don't think we're going to be doing this all the time down here." He opened his knees wider as his mother stepped out of her skirt and dropped to her knees between his legs. "SHIT!" Brenda yelled at the steering wheel of her coasting car. She couldn't believe that she hadn't checked the gasoline meter when she got in the car that morning. Now here it was, pegged on EMPTY, and she turned her car off the road far enough to not obstruct other drivers. 'Okay, just relax,' she thought as she turned the dead car off. 'Don't let this ruin a memorable day.' The nearest gas station was near the freeway. She thought it was at least a mile away. There were several houses nearby she could go to and use a phone. But it was only about a quarter mile back to Sharon's house. She decided to walk back and ask Sharon for a ride to the gas station or maybe borrow some gas that Brad might have for his cycle. She stuffed her bag out of sight under the passenger seat, got out, locked the car and started walking back to her mother-in-law's home. "They'll be surprised to see me again," she muttered.Outside, Brenda came right up the steps and walked right by the window without looking in. She was heading for the door now, and Brad began to silently will her to just walk right in. "Don't use the doorbell!...Come on, Brenda...you're one of the family. Just walk in!" The outside storm door opened, and Brad knew it was going to happen - Brenda was going to walk in! The opening of the outside door had not been silent. His mother started to pull her mouth up his cock quickly. He wasn't sure if it was because she sensed something or she was just going to shift into a quicker sucking. He pushed down on the back of his mother's head, holding her mouth around him as the doorknob turned on the inside door. His mother definitely knew they were not alone as the front door opened. The sound of the door latch popping open, the clanging of the mini-blinds against the door glass, the immediate increase in the volume of the birds chirping outside. The door was opened, and Brenda was coming through it. His mother was raising up her body, but she couldn't go anywhere with him holding her head. Brenda saw them, her mouth dropped open, and he let go of his mother's head. "Brenda!" he said loudly, acting totally surprised. Brenda stood there, agape, as she watched Sharon scramble off her knees, her hand grabbing her skirt off the floor as she spun toward the doorway. Brad remained still on the couch after shouting her name. He was naked. His erection...his glistening erection...stood proudly upward. "Brenda?!" Sharon said, her eyes round as saucers. "Calm down, Mom. Brenda's not going to tell," Brad said, standing up slowly. He didn't make any move to cover himself, and Brenda would have enjoyed looking at his naked, buffed body had she not been so shaken up by what she had witnessed. "Brenda, close the door and have a seat. We got to have a talk." Brenda used her hand to push the door shut and watched as Brad sat his mother down on the couch. Sharon looked very white. "Mom, everything is cool," Brad reassured her as he finally grabbed his shorts and pulled them on. He motioned her to sit on the other end of the couch, and she went around the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. "Brenda's not going to tell anyone. Not after this morning...think about it." Brenda realized that Brad was right. How could she tell anyone after letting Brad fuck her? "Sharon, I swear I won't tell," she promised. "I ran out of gas..." Sharon had a hand over her eyes but she spoke at last. "You must think I'm terrible," she said weakly. "No, I don't, Sharon...I don't even know what led up to this," she said, fishing for an explanation. "Let's tell her, Mom," Brad said, standing on the far side of the coffee table with his hands on his hips. "You've always wanted to tell someone about us. I think Brenda's going to be real sympathetic." Brad actually winked at her! "I think we ought to get everything out in the open. None of us are ever going to be able to tell any of this to anyone else, so why pretend about what's going on? Brenda, me and Mom have been having sex for, I guess, a year and a half now. I came on to her first...she's the best looking mother around, I don't think anyone can argue that. The thought of doing her sort of obsessed me back then...and it's better than I could even have imagined...fucking her, I mean." Brenda looked at Sharon, who was sitting just down the couch from her. Sharon looked at her and then back to her son as he went on. "Mom has been keeping a real tight leash on things up until now. She'd only let me fuck her once or twice a week. But then she got the idea of letting me try to make the baby with you. Ever since then, she's been wanting me all the time...this baby stuff excites her." "Brad, do you have to get so..." Sharon said, her voice sounding exasperated. "Sharon, it's O.K.," she said. "Brad's right. Why should we keep any secrets?" She decided to tell a secret of her own. "Let me tell you both, right here and now, that I agreed to this insemination plan at first because I wanted a child. And I still do. But when we were upstairs...well, I'm getting ahead of myself. It's obvious to me that I had some feelings for Brad that even I wasn't aware of because I had these wild sexual dreams about Brad all last week...I mean really wild. So, I didn't come here with the good intentions that you might have thought...I came to have sex...for more than just procreation." "Yeah, you were hot for it, all right!" Brad said, stepping over the coffee table and sitting down on it, facing both of them. "I told Mom about how you got off when I stuck it in." Brad's exuberance for the subject was pretty stimulating to Brenda. She never would have thought that she would admit something as personal as that in front of Sharon, but she did. "That's true...I couldn't stop myself. I thought I would, and that's why I told you I was worried about it, Sharon." "Brad has that effect on me, too," Sharon said, beginning to open up. "I suppose I should spill my guts too since everyone else is being so open...I know what Brad and I do is not right in the eyes of the world...but we both love it. Him because his hormones are going crazy and me because he makes me feel younger, I guess." "Come on, Mom...the truth now," Brad said, moving his hand onto one of her knees. "Tell Brenda you like fucking me because I'm your boy." "I think she knows that that is a part of it," Sharon said, putting her hand over his. "Brad's not telling the truth, not the whole truth. He did make a pass at me, but...I acted on it after first refusing him. And...I've never regretted it." Sharon was getting herself together. "We both know it's wrong, but it feels so right...that must sound crazy." 'Wow, this is getting really interesting!' Brenda thought. This whole thing was mushrooming into a chance to take off the gloves and do the things she wanted to with Brad. What could Sharon say about that now? She could fuck Brad all she wanted now that she knew their secret. "It must be something special...it's too wild to think about!" Brenda said, unable to stop it from coming out. Sharon was getting all the cock she wanted from her own son! 'I can't believe how well Brenda is taking all this,' Sharon thought, watching her daughter-in-law acting excited about the taboo relationship she had learned about. 'And I never would have thought she wanted Brad like I do...as a lover.' When she'd been caught sucking her son's cock, she'd felt like her whole world had shattered. But Brad had pointed out the one thing that was their saving grace - Brenda couldn't tell anyone even if she'd wanted to. And Brenda hadn't run out of the place screaming bloody murder; in fact, she'd acted more curious than anything. Brad's hand began to stroke around in a circle under her own, moving slowly up onto her thigh. She looked at him and could see he was enjoying this whole thing! Then he dropped the bomb. "See, Mom? Brenda's a kindred spirit," Brad said, kneading her leg with his fingers. "How about we all go upstairs?" 'God, what is Brad proposing?!' Sharon thought as she looked at him. She felt pretty good about the way Brenda had taken learning about the secret that she had kept for so long, but certainly Brad didn't think that Brenda would... "I might be up for that," Brenda said, and Sharon whipped her head to look at her daughter-in-law. Brenda was looking at Brad, smiling. "But only if we all agree." "Wait a minute..." she started to say. "Come on, Mom. Let's all go upstairs. I think Brenda would like to watch us make love. Maybe as much as you liked to be in the room when we fucked earlier." "Is that true, Sharon?" Brenda asked, her voice sounding huskier. "Is that why you stayed?" Sharon looked back at Brenda. She couldn't deny what she had felt, sitting in that chair, listening to their lovemaking. "I found it exciting...I did." "Could you do it with Brad...with me in the room?" Brenda asked. Brenda's eyes looked deep into hers. The whole dynamic of the situation was changing, like being swept up in a stream that she was powerless to stop. And she wasn't sure she wanted to stop it! She'd wanted to be able to tell someone - now she had the opportunity to show someone and to watch Brad with Brenda. Everything revolved around her answer... "I could try," she said simply, opening the floodgates. "Let's go upstairs!" Brad said excitedly. Sharon let Brad lead her upstairs...with Brenda right behind them.

Part 5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/11130.txt

Caroline Ashbee

Evidence of survival

'The jewel found in the dunghill', that's what it is, the jewel found in the dunghill. The phrase turned itself over and over in Sir William Cruickshank's mind as he sat, glad of his Inverness cape, listening to the rain battering the roof of the Hansom, and the clip-clop of the hooves, and the jingling of the bells on the harness. Had the old alchemists been right? he wondered fancifully: Was there really a method to transform the elements? Of course there was no alchemical solution to the transmutation, but in 1884, there were new and amazing mysteries to investigate, mysteries as profound as any in the physical world, mysteries at the very interface between the living and the spiritual world, that a man of science could explore; and who more qualified to explore them than Sir William Cruickshank, FRS, the inventor of Cruickshank's torus, and the discoverer of Cruickshank's kathodic emanations? The cab slowed down and came to a stop. 'I suppose that Holloway is not really a dunghill', he thought, but it very nearly was; and then suddenly an unarticulated question resolved itself: the reason that the material phenomena of spiritualism were manifested by people of the lower class was not that they possessed abilities that were advanced beyond the ordinary, it was because they were more primitive than the ordinary, and retained talents that the more highly evolved human beings, the members of the upper classes, no longer had any need for, and had therefore lost through the process of evolution. 'We solve our problems with reason, and despise the visceral: they lack the refinement for reason and converse with spirits.' Perhaps they had always done so and kept it secret. Perhaps all the stories about shape-changers were literally true. He knew, of course, that the notion was nothing more than a caprice, a thought for teasing children with, and he didn't believe it; but despite that, he was about to take part in a séance. The cabman opened the door and touched his cap. 'Here we are, Sir, 37, Brickfield Terrace, Holloway. That'll be ninepence.' Sir William took out his purse and picked out a sixpence and four pennies and handed them to the cabman who touched his cap again and said 'It's a dreadful night, isn't it, Sir? Rain like stair-rods.' 'Yes, yes, my man, so it is.' 'Long drive back up west, Sir, and not much chance of a fare in a place like this.' 'No... Oh, I see what you mean.' He sorted out another sixpence from his change and said to the man, 'Mind you don't spend it on beer.' 'God bless you, Sir. You're a scholar and a gentleman.' 'How did he know I was a scholar?' he wondered as he walked across the street to number 37, a mean semi-detached villa, standing behind the broken cast-iron railings that fenced off the subterranean area and the servants' entrance. Sir William walked up the steps feeling tense with foreboding. Once or twice in his life he had felt that tension before, in the laboratory, when he had been sure that something unusual was going to happen; and once he had experienced the triumphant resolution when it had happened: by chance the torus had been evacuated, and by chance, Tankerton had spilled a solution of something or other on to the bench and had mopped it up with a piece of cotton waste, which by chance, at least not actually by chance, all too predictably in fact, he had failed to dispose of properly, and by chance the switch to the high-tension supply to the torus had been thrown just when, by chance, he had been looking with irritation at the scrap of cotton; also by chance there was a thunderstorm impending and the sky was dark and the colour of slate, enabling him to make out the faint, pale, apple-green luminescence shining from the cotton. 'Come here, Tankerton and look at this.' 'Oh, that, I've seen it before. It's the barium on the cotton, that's all. Some sort of electrical influence comes out of the tube and makes the barium glow. That's why I was messing about with solutions of barium salts in the first place. I spilled some, and mopped it up with that cotton. I thought it was quite intriguing.' Sir William, having experienced the elation of being the first, experienced the dejection of being the second person to discover the kathodic emanations. He had sat down and had thought what to do. He wrote a paper on the subject and circulated it among his friends in the Royal Society, and they urged him to publish it in the Proceedings of the Society, '... and, well, after all, Tankerton is your employee, his father's a shopkeeper. Give him a bonus, and acknowledge his assistance at the end of the paper and that is more than he deserves.' Thus the world came to know them as Cruickshank's kathodic emanations, but the world ought to have known them as the Tankerton-Cruickshank emanations, or even the Tankerton emanations. Part of the excitement about the new field of research was that it was his alone. Tankerton, a disciple also of Professor Huxley, continued to be derisive about spiritualism and would soon be having to search for another position unless he learned to keep his scepticism to himself. He knocked at the door and waited. It was opened by the parlourmaid, Gertrude, a blowsy young woman with a pert manner, verging on the familiar. 'Good evening, Sir 'Enry,' she said, 'You are expected.' He didn't bother to correct her. She took his cape, hat, gloves, and umbrella, and then led him down the narrow lobby, matchboarded and painted chocolate brown to the dado, with, above, wallpaper heavily embossed with a floral pattern that had been overpainted in glossy dark maroon. The air stank of boiled mutton and coal-gas. She paused beside the hall-stand where the salver was placed to receive the 'contributions'. He dropped three pounds in gold on to the salver and looked towards Gertrude who stared back at him insolently. He dropped another sovereign and looked at her, and still she stared stonily back. He dropped one more and she pressed her lips tightly together and nodded. He was shown into a small, hot parlour and was assailed with air thickened with face-powder and cheap scent. There were three people sitting in armchairs: two women, one short and fat, the other large and statuesque, both strictly constrained in taut, black, bombasine, and a thin boy of about 15 in a tight, bright, checked suit, short at the wrists and ankles. The smaller of the women, Mrs Mortimer, stood up to greet him. 'Oh, Sir William. How nice of you to come. Permit me to introduce Mrs Gudgeon, the famous materialising medium.' Mrs Gudgeon stood up. She must have been six feet tall, a fine figure of a woman, with broad shoulders, a very full bosom, and an hourglass waist. In her late forties perhaps, or even older, her hair, very black, surprisingly, artificially, black, long, done up in a heavy chignon. She had large, dark brown eyes in a white, fleshy, face, with deep lines from the wings of her nostrils to the corners of her lips, and beyond to her jawline, where jowls were just beginning to break on either side, as if somebody had placed a finger in each corner of her mouth and stretched her face downwards a little; but for all that she was a striking, handsome woman, though a little painted on the lips and about the eyes. 'How do you do, Sir William,' she said. 'I'd like to introduce my son, Ronald.' and turning towards him said, 'Say how-do-you-do to Sir William.' 'How-de-do, Sir William. Call me Ronnie, everybody does.' Squirming with distaste and embarrassment Sir William said 'How do you do, Ron... ald.' 'After all, there is a limit', he thought and he reminded himself of the jewel in the dunghill. 'Pleasetermeetcher,' Ronnie replied cheerfully. Ronnie resembled his mother in his facial features, especially in the down-turned mouth and the lines from the nose to its corners; but in contrast with his mother's glossy black abundance, his hair was mousy, but short and stiff, and though amply brilliantined, it stood away from his head in places. They stood looking at one another. They all knew what was going to happen, but each was waiting for one of the others to say something. They all knew that there were disagreeable preliminaries to be endured before the séance proper could begin. 'Will there be other participants in the circle tonight?'Sir William asked, trying to hold the tremor down. 'No, Sir William, not tonight. There will just be you, I, and Mrs. Gudgeon. Ronnie will amuse himself with the stereoscope in here, won't you, Ronnie?' 'Rather, Mrs. Mortimer,' he replied with well-drilled promptness, 'Like I always do,' he added, smirking. 'Well, we'd best make a start,' said Sir William. 'If you're ready?' Mrs. Gudgeon nodded, and they left the stuffy parlor and went through the mutton-coal-gas of the lobby, upstairs, and into one of the rooms on the second floor. This room was a kind of sparsely furnished ante-chamber that opened directly on to the séance room beyond it. There was a chaise-longue in the center of the room, and Mrs. Gudgeon sat down on it. Mrs. Mortimer passed her a button-hook, and she began to unbutton her boots. 'If the experiment is to be evidential, I must watch, I'm afraid,' said Sir William, feeling his blood pounding in his head. Mrs. Gudgeon nodded. 'Of course you must,' she said, leering up at him. She slipped off her boots and said to Mrs. Mortimer, 'Come on, Gladys, give me a hand with the dress.' It was very hot in the room, Sir William thought, running his finger inside his collar. Mrs. Mortimer noticed. 'Make yourself at home, dearie,' she said, 'No one will tell tales, so you can take your collar off if you like.' But Sir William did not reply. The buttons down the back having been undone, Mrs. Mortimer drew the dress apart, and standing up, Mrs. Gudgeon withdrew her arms from the sleeves, the dress transformed by this action into the black spathe of some fantastic night-blossoming lily. Her shoulders were white and creamy; there was a brown birthmark the size of a shilling beside her collarbone. Sir William felt as he always did, uneasy, but prepared to put up with his unease and his excitement for the benefit of science. He looked at her avidly. Mrs. Gudgeon looked at him obliquely and smiled. The word 'marmoreal' popped into Sir William's mind to be replaced almost immediately by 'orchidaceous'. 'Enjoying it, dearie?' 'Certainly not,' he replied. 'If there is any more of this, I'll have to conclude the experiment immediately.' 'Sorry, I'm sure. I can't always make out you men of science.' 'Come on, Gladys, help me.' Mrs. Mortimer slipped the dress downwards to her feet, and Mrs. Gudgeon stepped out of it. Then she sat down again, quite composed, on the chaise-longue, in corset and chemise, her legs apart, her drawers open on the glimpse of darkness. 'It must be a real imposition, having to go through this for the sake of science,' she said. Sir William was watching her. He knew that fake mediums, particularly the women, would use their sexuality to distract investigators, making it all the more essential that he watch every movement attentively. He knew too, that genuine mediums were sometimes, despite apparent physical vigor, sick-sensitives, in Von Reichenbach's terminology, and as such found it difficult to restrain their animal appetites. Mrs. Gudgeon undid her garters and slipped down her stockings. Her legs were thick and strong, the color of curds in sour milk, but marbled with blue. The toes on both her feet were overlapping and twisted from wearing boots that were too small. 'Check my feet quickly, Professor. I can't hardly bear to look at them.' She lounged back on the chaise-longue, still with her legs wide apart, still with her drawers open. Sir William convinced himself that it was his duty to look into the opening and looked into the opening, but could make out only the darkness of her hair. He transferred his attention to her feet, taking each foot in his hands, and checked that there was nothing between the toes, nothing hidden. The feet were warm and moist and slightly ammoniacal. When he had checked her toes, he put the stockings back, drawing each up a calf and tying them firmly with the garters. 'Remember your objectivity,' he kept saying to himself. 'Remember your objectivity.' 'Now my laces, please, Gladys.' She half-turned her back, and Sir William saw that the pink corset had bright mauve laces. Mrs. Mortimer undid the laces, lifted the corset over her head, leaving her just her chemise and drawers. Crossing her arms around her body, cradling her breasts, Mrs. Gudgeon scratched herself. 'Gawd, that's better,' she said to Sir William. 'Makes a bit of a change, really. You looking so hard and not enjoying yourself one little bit, are you, Sir?' Then she whisked the chemise over her head and sat back, legs apart, looking at him. Her breasts were large, lolling almost to her waist. They had wide areoles and dark red nipples slack in the warmth of the room. She sat up, and they fell forward; she hunched her shoulders and supported a breast on the palm of each hand. 'Still not enjoying yourself, Professor?' She lifted her left breast to her mouth and licked, and then sucked the nipple. 'Never seen anything like this before, I'll bet.' 'If there's any more of this nonsense, I will bring the séance to an end.' 'So what's the next thing then?' 'I have to search to make sure that you have nothing concealed about your . . . er . . . bosom.' 'You're a real martyr, ain't you, Professor? Well, search away.' She leant further forward, her breasts coming to touch each other, forming a deep cleft between them. He knelt down beside her and ran his fingers into the cleft, parting the breasts, reaching to her breastbone with his fingertips: and then taking each breast in turn, he lifted it and probed into the deep fold beneath. The flesh was heavy, very soft, and slightly damp. He smelt fresh sweat and violets. He tried hard to control his breathing. It was difficult. He didn't find anything. 'Now the mouth.' 'Blimey.' 'Open your mouth.' 'It'll be all right, dear,' said Mrs. Mortimer. 'I know that you have the gift, but these men of science, these scientists, have to take the precautions.' 'Well, make him wash his hands then.' 'If you would, Sir.' Sir William nodded. 'There's a wash-basin and jug in the next room.' 'Bring it in here. I can't stop the search now.' 'Well, I can't leave you alone with Mrs. Gudgeon. She's a respectable widow who must be chaperoned.' 'Get the boy to fetch it, or Gertrude.' 'Oh, very well.' Mrs. Mortimer rang the bell and stood by the door waiting for the maid. 'Don't come in,' she said. 'Fetch the jug and wash basin from next door and put them outside this door. When you have done that, you may go downstairs.' 'Yes, Ma'am.' 'Oh yes, and bring a towel.' 'Very good, Ma'am.' When they heard Gertrude going downstairs, Mrs. Mortimer opened the door and quickly dragged the jug and the basin and the towel into the room. He washed his hands and said, 'Open your mouth wide.' 'You sure you ain't a dentist?' but she opened her mouth. 'Take out the plate.' 'Gawd, I don't believe this,' but she took out the plate with two incisors and one canine tooth. He ran his finger round the gums but could find nothing. 'Now the . . . er . . . drawers.' She stood up and, looking him in the eyes, undid the drawstrings and pulled the drawers down and off, and sat, naked except for her stockings. Her pubic hair extended almost to her navel, black, streaked with grey. 'And here,' she pointed, 'I suppose you want to stick your fingers in here. I can't believe this,' she said, turning to Mrs. Mortimer. 'No,' he said. 'That's a mercy.' '. . . but I have an instrument that I would like to use to inspect the interior. Lie on the chaise-longue and draw your knees up to your chest. Now relax.' 'Gawd, it's freezing . . . Ow, that hurts.' 'Just a little more.' 'You believe in getting your money's worth.' He regarded her opened body, happy that he was not in the least aroused, or excited by what he was seeing. He observed that her genitals were unusually well developed, with particularly succulent, no, not 'succulent', rather, 'well-developed' was the proper description, labia minora. He adjusted his trousers casually. 'And now the . . . er . . . back passage.' 'No, not that. I'm not having that.' 'Oh, but you must, unless you are properly inspected, nothing that takes place could possibly be evidential.' 'Don't you think you are being a little unreasonable, Sir William?' Mrs. Mortimer asked. 'If conditions are right, the spirit of a French marquise will be materialized, as in life, in the flesh, in the séance room, and Mrs. Gudgeon could hardly have her---Pardon me, but I have to say it---hidden up her back passage.' 'I don't enjoy this,' Sir William said anxiously, adjusting his trousers, again. 'No, I can see that,' said Mrs. Mortimer, glancing in the direction of his crotch. 'But I can see that if the spirit is materialized, your point will have been made. So, on this occasion,' he said, curiously disappointed, unfulfilled somehow, 'I think we can dispense with the inspection of the back passage.' 'Let's get on,' said Mrs. Mortimer, and they went into the adjoining room where there was a small table, with three dining chairs arranged round it, and some distance away, there was a two-seater sofa with a second small table beside it. Sir William closed the door, turned the key in the lock, and tried to open the door. Satisfied that the door was locked, he put the key into his waistcoat pocket.Then, from his wallet, he took out several star-shaped wafers of red, gummed paper, and after moistening them with his tongue, he stuck them over the gaps between the door and its frame in a number of places. He also stuck one over the keyhole. Then he sat down at the table with Mrs. Gudgeon on his left and Mrs. Mortimer on his right. He took off his shoes, and Mrs. Mortimer unbuttoned her boots and slipped them off. Then she lit the candle in a little lantern with a dark-slide and deep ruby glass. She left the table and took the lantern to the other table beside the sofa, and closed the slide, then she turned off the gas, and as the mantles cooled, she hurried back to the table. Each one held one hand of each of the others; each foot of each one touched one foot of each of the others, closing the circle both above the table and beneath it. Mrs. Gudgeon's hand was hard and dry, Mrs. Mortimer's, hot, soft, and very moist indeed. At first, the darkness seemed total, but after a minute or so, Sir William could just make out the faintest crimson glow from the lantern. Mrs. Mortimer said, 'Let us begin,' and in a faint voice with wavering intonation, began to sing 'Lead, Kindly Light.' Sir William joined in surprisingly timidly, and then Mrs. Gudgeon with a strong, coarse voice followed. Then they sang 'Abide with Me,' and then, while they were singing 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' Mrs. Gudgeon began to convulse. Sir William had to hold her hand tightly, and it became difficult to keep contact with her foot under the table. Her body jerked left to right, and he felt her twisting, and leaning forwards and backwards, the weight of her right breast coming to rest, from time to time, on his forearm or even on his hand. Suddenly, the convulsions stopped. Mrs. Mortimer said, 'Look, Sir William, to your left.' He turned his head and made out a bluish phosphorescence. A deep voice said, 'Me Red Cloud. Me come from the Happy Hunting Ground to give the good news that there is no death.' 'Why have we got to go through this?' he wondered, 'Phosphorescent paint, and a disguised voice. What will happen will be mysterious enough without this.' 'Spirit strong tonight,' the voice said. Mrs. Mortimer asked, 'Would you like to ask Red Cloud a question?' 'Will the French lady come tonight?' 'Me only simple Indian. Me not sure. Spirit is strong tonight. She could come.' There was a rustle of clothing, and a voice whispered in his ear. It said, 'I am La Marquise. Leave the circle and come and sit with me.' 'D'accord, Madame,' he replied, 'je suis enchanté...' 'Speak English, my lord. We all speak English now.' He stood up carefully and felt the woman place her arm round his shoulders and lead him towards the faint point of crimson. They arrived at the sofa, and after groping in the dark for a moment, sat down side by side. 'What's your name, my lord?' 'Sir William Cruickshank.' 'But what should I call you, Sir Cruickshank, we can't be friendly if I have to call you Sir Cruickshank all the time.' 'You may call me William.' 'You can call me Louise.' 'When did you pass over, Louise?' 'Shush, William, whisper. I don't want those old crones to hear what we are saying. I passed over,' she whispered, 'in the French Revolution, by the guillotine, I remember that. Such a bang when the blade fell and such a shock to my poor head, and now I can't remember the rest of my name, but I'm real, you know, and it's exciting to be brought back to meet you. I am real. Touch me.' She took his hand and touched it to her lips, 'Feel,' she said, 'just like an ordinary girl. I was sixteen when . . .', she shook and said, 'Hold me.' He put his arms round her and held her. 'That's better,' she said, taking his hand and placing it inside the neck of her gown on her breast. He felt firmness and the stiffened, almost rigid nipple against his palm, a contrast to the soft, humid, mobility of Mrs. Gudgeon's flesh. 'Just a little secret between the two of us,' she whispered, and he felt her fingers at his fly-buttons, into his pants, and his penis, as if it were an ectoplasmic pseudopod, thrusting out into the darkness of the seance room. 'My governess taught me about pleasing men,' she said, holding him with just her forefinger and thumb, delicately rolling and unrolling the foreskin, to and fro, upon the mitre, moving it gently, almost with a tremor, by minute fractions of an inch over the shoulder. 'And on the other side, it's so lovely, but we don't have no bodies, just pure spirit, but passing over so young, a girl like me never has the chance to find out about anything, not really. And I do so want to learn. And I am real, all of me. Feel here.' She took his hand and touched it between her legs, parting succulent, deliquescent lips. 'And I'm a virgin too. So unless you help me, I'll never know what it is like.' Her hand went back to his rigid penis and continued its tiny rhythmic movements. 'Please help me.' Then he felt her fingers searching under his waistcoat for his braces, and unbuttoning them, she whispered, 'Stand up.' He stood, and felt her pulling his trousers, his underpants down his thighs. 'Now sit down.' He sat down, forgetting that he was ever Sir William Cruickshank, FRS, passive, waiting for her to move his mannequin body into the next posture. He felt her hands on his shoulders as she knelt with his legs between hers, and her gown gathered up around her waist, and whispered, 'You will have to guide it,' and she lowered herself, as he guided himself and she engulfed him. She bucked vigorously, 'Like this?' she whispered into his ear, 'Is this right?' and uneasy though he was, soon the knot slipped, his hips heaved forward, and as he came with a great gusting sigh, it seemed to him that she did also. She leant towards him, and lay, warm and heavy against his body for a moment, and then she raised herself away from him, and he heard the rustle of her robe. She was kneeling on the floor beside him. He touched her head at the same time feeling her fingers on his thighs, searching for his groin. She found his now softening penis, and he felt her little sharp teeth as, slightly clumsy in the pitch darkness, she engulfed him a second time, bobbing her head slowly over his lap. The arousal was gradual once again, as she coaxed the refractory penis to erect itself a second time, and then later, almost at the cusp, she stopped and whispered, 'It's extra if I swallow.' 'Yes, yes,' he gasped, 'Anything, anything.' For a moment, as she was taking him into her mouth again, he could feel the wide gap where a few of her front teeth were missing, but in that same moment, he was tormented with the second, sharper, pleasure, and cried out as he filled her mouth and felt her swallowing. 'Are you all right, Sir William?' Mrs. Mortimer called, 'I think the force is weakening, I think the materialisation is coming to an end.' 'Goodbye, William. Thank you. Perhaps we will meet again on this side.' 'Are you ready, Sir William?' 'Just a moment,' he called, easing, with difficulty, his still erect penis into his pants, and quickly closing his trousers, buttoning up his fly and doing up his braces. She disappeared soundlessly, leaving him wondering what it was that he had experienced. Mrs. Mortimer waited a moment or two before walking hesitantly to the table beside the sofa and drawing back the slide of the lantern. Then, in the now-dazzling candlelight, she walked across the room and lit the gas. Mrs. Gudgeon looked across at him grinning, and with her left hand, she lifted up her left breast to her mouth and sucked the nipple vigorously, closing her eyes and slurping her lips. When she took it out of her mouth, it was scarlet and erect. She slowly lowered the breast, and when it was hanging unsupported, she reached across and touched it, circling it with the tip of the index finger of her right hand. He looked away quickly. 'Well, I will say this,' she said, looking him in the eye as he turned back to face her, 'our professor's a cold fish. Don't you think so, Gladys?' 'Well, Professor,' she continued, 'was it evidential?' 'I think it might have been,' he replied.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17966.txt

Zawackyj Zabum

The Tickleopps Tourist Attraction

'Do you really organize tours like that?' Briget Marlow asked, unable to believe the story of the bizarre tours she was being told about by Mark, a fellow travel agent she met earlier in the day at the conference they were both attending. 'Don't you believe me?' Mark grinned at her. 'I don't know...' Briget smiled uncomfortably, unsure of whether he was playing a teasing mind game with her or not. It was difficult to tell, but Briget was intrigued by the thought implanted in her mind by the weird story Mark told her. And after all, who was she to disagree? Just because "tours for perverts" wasn't ever discussed in the travel agent's course she'd recently graduated from, didn't mean they didn't exist. She absently toyed with the blue plastic swizzle stick in her glass, using it to chase an ice cube around the bottom of the empty glass. 'You can come up to my room and see the tools of my trade, if you like...' Mark said, casually sipping his drink and watching discreetly for her reaction. He had a good feeling about her. It wasn't just that she was attractive - that was something which had virtually become a prerequisite for employment in the competitive world of travel. No, it was something deeper than that. Mark Grayson had only just met Briget that day and yet he felt as if he'd known her for ages. She gave off a certain vibe to him, like discreet signals that he sometimes felt only he could read. They probably weren't intentional on Briget's part. In fact, he'd have been not nearly as taken with her if they were deliberate. He found no joy in brazenly provocative girls, the ones with short skirts and high opinions of themselves who paraded around full of self-confidence almost daring men to approach them. They invariably turned out being exactly like the personas they projected, and he hated that. He liked mystery. And secrecy. Any girl who brazenly leads men on, particularly where sex is the goal, only does so because she's too unimaginative to get it any other way. That's what he thought, at least. It had been twenty years since he was in high school, but he still vividly remembered the first time he started to understand himself and what it was he found desirable in the opposite sex. There was a girl in his senior class - Anna - who nobody seemed interested in. He couldn't understand why, although she was clearly not like other girls in his class. She wasn't ugly or anything, though she made it difficult to tell sometimes with the dowdy choice of clothes she wore. And she wasn't dumb. Quite the opposite, in fact, and yet, this didn't make her a part of the nerdy group. She didn't seem to fit in at all and just kept to herself all the time. In some ways, Mark thought this intimidated guys more than anything. It intimidated him at the time mostly because he really wanted to get to know her but didn't know how to get past the layer of quiet shyness which seemed to cloak her. None of the other guys knew what to make of her either, so they ignored her and spent all their school days chasing after the cheerleaders, who invariably led everybody on until that crucial moment when they'd get all prissy and spurn whoever it was who'd been chasing them, leaving the poor bastards with blue balls and their tongues hanging out. Mark quickly tired of this kind of humiliation. Begging just wasn't in his character - not even as a teenager. Briget reminded Mark of Anna, although she was quite a bit more stylish. He had a thing about grooming and women who took a bit of care in their appearance, and Briget was as pretty as a porcelain doll with silky blonde hair neatly framing her roundish, soft face and a blush of pale rouge that was almost indiscernible from her natural, blemish-free skin. All of this merely enhanced her most alluring feature - the bluest of eyes that sparkled, not just with a vibrancy caught in the yellowish light of the hotel bar, but with the honesty of a young person to whom everything in life seemed new and exciting. It was this sign that Mark valued most highly. It was a look that few women have, particularly those like Briget, who Mark guessed to be in her late twenties. The look of innocence was usually lost in the teenage years or soon after, so anybody older than that who still has it simply had to be extraordinary. They're like gems that, in their raw state, seem lackluster and without value. But all it takes is a little work. A bit of chipping away at the protective shell, some rubbing in the right places, and that arcane wisdom which only experience can instill certain people to make a craftsman like Mark. Briget, perhaps because her senses were slightly dulled from the drinks she'd been having in the hotel bar with Mark, considered his invitation back to his room. There was no denying he was propositioning her - he couldn't have been more direct, even if it was almost comical in the way it had been made. She smiled inwardly at the funny memories of ridiculous shows on television where the man offers a girl the hackneyed line "come up to my room and see my etchings". She never thought of herself as being fully capable to deal with any proposition, particularly if there was a risk of intimate relations. However, nobody had ever used the "come up to my room" line on Briget and she felt, maybe because it just sounded so funny, that it might be okay to agree. Surely nobody ever used that line seriously, she thought to herself. It only took a moment's contemplation before Briget agreed to accompany him to his room, though by doing so, a nagging voice in her conscience suddenly spoke to warn her of the possible dangers. It was a familiar voice, one she usually obeyed, but this time she made a conscious decision to ignore it and put it out of her mind. By the time she arrived at his room, her thoughts of caution had evaporated and were replaced with a faint tingle in the pit of her stomach of eagerness to submit to his charm, should things go in that way. Predictions of this nature weren't something Briget was very good at. But she had to at least assume that might happen and, without dwelling on the thought at that time, there seemed a twinge of feeble, indefinable hope. Mark casually invited Briget into his hotel room and gently closed the door. This was always the most difficult moment of any new encounter - locking the door. He was conscious of the fact most girls, if not all, innately understand the significance of this subtle action. He was aware girls generally reacted one of two ways. Either they'd suddenly begin questioning his motives, to which he'd usually find himself passing it off with some joke knowing that he'd be disappointed and unfulfilled by the end of the evening, even if the girl didn't walk out on him, or she'd accept it without discussion. Whether or not a girl understands the symbolic nature of locking the door, to remain silent at this juncture is to tacitly say "I am your prisoner". It's never something openly stated because this kind of girl is the kind Mark knew and loved. Too timid and polite to object.He discreetly watched Briget for her reaction, which was one of almost visible trepidation, but she was silent as he'd hoped. In fact, she smiled so sweetly, nervously, almost naively as if to tell him she'd never done anything like this, that Mark had to believe she would be even more delightfully submissive than he could have dreamed. 'You've got a lovely big room here,' Briget said, mentally noting and comparing it with the cheaper, smaller room paid for by the travel agency that employed her. 'There's more...' Mark said, waving his hand towards the door next to the mini bar. 'It's a double room...there's another through there.' 'Really?' Briget replied, genuinely curious. 'Are you staying with someone else?' 'No, of course not, Briget...I'm the boss!' Mark laughed heartily, not just to make Briget feel at ease but because he loved the innocent way in which she asked. It was obvious to him why she asked. She wanted to know whether or not they'd be disturbed. He laughed quietly again to himself. 'You mean...you're paying for all of this room for yourself?' Briget asked, watching as Mark leaned over and tapped some keys on the computer he had set up on the coffee table. The hushed sound of a dial tone and then the familiar squeal of an internet connection filled the quiet room. 'Yes...that's right. I told you downstairs...my business is very successful,' Mark said. He was distracted for a moment as he flipped through the screens of email messages he'd received. Briget quietly moved around the room behind him, taking the opportunity to glance out the window at the sub-tropical tranquility down below. She felt the voice of her conscience buzzing in her ears again as she thought back to their earlier conversation in the bar. The question formed in her mind but she was reluctant to ask it. 'You weren't joking about those tours?' Mark stopped what he was doing and looked back over his shoulder at Briget. 'No...' he smiled warmly. 'What made you think I was joking?' 'I don't know...' Briget mumbled, shrugging her shoulders and feeling a little foolish for asking. 'Are you saying you really do organize those tours you told me about?' 'Yes. Does that bother you?' Mark asked, casually returning to his computer task. There was a long silence. 'I guess not,' Briget said, trying to sound confident in her answer. 'It's very lucrative...here...come and see for yourself...' Mark said, pulling a chair close to the coffee table and inviting Briget to sit at the screen. Briget smiled as best she could, uncertain that she wanted to know any more at all about Mark's strange business, but she quietly demurred and sat for him. 'What are these?' she asked, squinting slightly as she looked at the screen. 'These are messages sent by my clients...click on the folder labeled "Fantasies"...' he said, standing back slightly so he could observe her reactions without her seeing. Briget nervously placed her hand on the mouse and directed the arrow to the small yellow icon, clicking it gently and watching as the screen filled with about a dozen subfolders. Each was simply numbered with a short code, making Briget feel a little unsettled with cautious interest. 'Let me tell you something before you go any further, Briget...these are my clients...my valued customers...what you are about to see is strictly confidential...do you understand?' Briget felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach, twisting uncomfortably as if to warn her she shouldn't go any further. But her curiosity had been aroused and she felt compelled to continue, sensing that the mystery details contained in the folders might shock her but anxiously wanting to explore further. She mumbled her agreement to maintain discretion and felt for a moment like an athlete waiting for the starter's signal to open the first folder. 'This is Mr Dawson's idea of a great holiday, Briget...' Mark said, knowing in advance what she was about to read. He waited silently as she slowly read through the short list on the screen. Briget read the first line quickly but suddenly stopped before she got to the end of it. She wasn't at all prepared for what she read and had to re-read it to make sure it said what she thought it said. 'Eeew!' she gasped, feeling awkward about the weird image that flashed to mind. 'What's the matter? Does Mr Dawson's fantasy disturb you, Briget?' Mark smirked after first mocking her reaction in a childish voice. 'Do people really do that?' Briget asked, her voice filled with incredulous doubt. 'What? A grown man wanting to dress up as a schoolboy and have his backside thrashed by a big, angry woman? What's wrong with that?' Mark laughed loudly, cajoling Briget to see the funny side of it. 'I don't know...' Briget said after a minute. Mark was obviously exaggerating about what the strange man had written - he only said that he wanted to be spanked by a woman, not thrashed, but Mark had made it sound even more ridiculous. She took a deep breath and made an effort to sound more worldly than she really was. 'I suppose there's nothing wrong with that...what people do for...you know...' she couldn't bring herself to say 'pleasure'. She pointed the arrow to the next folder and clicked. 'Ah! Mr Fujuma!' Mark said, his voice now alive with a playful humor. Briget burst out giggling as she read his message. 'He says...' she put her hand to her mouth and tried to hold back an uncontrollable laugh. 'He says...I love to wear a diaper under my clothes when I go out. I want you to find me a woman who will dress me like a baby and watch while I pee my pants...' Briget shrieked with laughter, her eyes filling with tears while she gasped for breath. Mark laughed with her, feeling pleased with her reaction so far. He knew by the way she was laughing that she would be intrigued by the next client and, without rushing her, he urged her to go to the next folder. He didn't say anything as she opened it and began reading. Briget was still having little fits of giggles from reading about the fruity Mr Fujuma but, as he expected, these quickly subsided as the content of the next message sank in. 'Well...what do you think?' Mark eventually asked, waiting while Briget read the message for a second time. 'Mmmm...' was all Briget could say. She was dumbstruck, not just by what she read, but by the unexpected shiver that made her skin prickle with goosebumps. 'He's prepared to pay a good deal of money to find what he's looking for...' Mark wasn't sure the money aspect would appeal to Briget, but he was relieved that she meekly asked the fee he charged for his service and so he told her. 'That much?' Briget said, sounding unsure of whether the amount was good or bad. It actually didn't interest her. What did interest her was the peculiar request he'd made. She glanced again at his name, Jeremy, at the bottom of the short message and then scanned back up quickly to look again at the line which had really caught her interest. He said he wanted Mark to "find him a new girl to play with..." 'Are you interested?' Mark asked. Briget wasn't ready to know what to say. She was still engrossed in a tantalizing daydream which suddenly sprang to mind after she read what Jeremy had gone on to say - "I want to spend a weekend with this girl exploring every part of her..." 'It doesn't sound too strange to me...' Mark whispered. Briget wasn't wanting to hear that just at the moment. As far as she was concerned, it was strange and thoroughly bizarre, especially the next part - "I want somebody who is NOT willing to have the most intimate recesses of her sensuality investigated...someone tied up and helpless while I give them the TICKLEOPPS treatment to reveal their most hidden desires..." There was no doubt in Briget's mind that this weirdo wanted to torture somebody by tickling them, a concept that was too freakish to believe, but one which made her head reel with a totally new and astonishing thrill. Briget had never given much thought to things such as bondage, mostly because she tried to keep such thoughts out of her mind. She now felt confused. As far as she had known, bondage was only ever spoken about in either joking terms, like it was some weird abnormal fetish of harmless weirdos or, more disturbingly, in conjunction with a serious crime like rape. Both uses it seemed alarmed a sense of guilt in Briget. The thought of being considered a weirdo was not a pleasant one and being bound and made vulnerable and helpless was, on the one hand, highly arousing for unknown reasons but also frightening when she considered the dangerous possibility of being hurt or even killed by some wild lunatic. But Jeremy didn't seem to be a lunatic, at least, not in a violent kind of way. After all, how could tickling somebody be dangerous? 'Come on Briget...it'll be fun!' Mark said, throwing caution to the wind and gently taking hold of Briget's wrist to help her to her feet. 'What?' Briget was suddenly paralyzed with dread. It was immediately obvious what Mark was suggesting, though she couldn't think straight to voice a proper objection. Instead, she allowed him to lead her, unwilling as she was, across to the door connecting the neighboring room. 'You can't mean me...' she was mumbling as he pushed her, gently but firmly through the door. 'Come along Briget...you know you want to...' Mark smiled kindly at her as if to reassure her there was nothing wrong with him slipping her white cotton blazer off her shoulders. 'No...I don't...really...' Briget's voice trembled, her attention caught by the sight of bondage paraphernalia lying on the large bed in the center of the room. She struggled, twisting her wrists which he gripped securely in his hands, but didn't resist enough to prevent him removing her blazer completely. 'Yes you do...' Mark laughed happily, realizing that her reluctance was more show than real. 'No...I don't...'Briget,' said Mark as he released his grip on her wrists and quickly unbuckled the broad leather belt of her modest skirt. 'I don't...' Briget whispered, almost breathlessly, as Mark pulled her toe-to-toe and pressed his face into the side of her neck. His warm breath and gentle nibbling made her shiver, and she instantly swooned, lolling her head back while he lightly kissed her beneath the ear. 'Yes you do, Briget...' he said, briefly lashing her ear with his tongue. He could feel her melting, her hands no longer pushing away his, which were blindly unhitching her skirt. It fell silently to the floor around her ankles, the heavy belt buckle tinkling quietly as it dropped on the carpet. 'I don't...' Briget sighed, her eyes closed and body trembling apprehensively as Mark's fingers groped for the small pearly buttons of her blouse. He was being very hasty in his undressing of her, yet this seemed to make it feel more sensuous than she could have imagined. In fact, Briget sensed that if she was given the opportunity to think, she'd break free from him and run from the room, and so she found herself secretly willing him to be quicker, compliantly shedding her blouse when prompted by Mark's peeling it open. Mark knew he had her once he caught sight of her breasts, neatly cupped in the filigree scallops of lace holding them. The shadowy dark circles of her nipples were already displaying signs of arousal, with the small buds pointed tensely in the fabric. He hooked his fingers into the elastic between her breasts and led her closer to the bed, pulling it just roughly enough to tacitly convince Briget of where he wanted her to be. Briget was already blushing when Mark deftly snapped open her bra, the single hasp between her breasts popping open with hardly any encouragement from him. The sudden freedom of the fleshy mounds caused them to jiggle momentarily, alerting her to the fact she was almost completely nude. Briget relaxed slightly as Mark nudged her, gently pushing her so she flopped face first down on the cool, soft bed. There was almost a reflex action from her as she felt his fingers hooking into the flimsy elastic of her plain lace undies. Without any prompting, she pressed her elbows into the mattress and discreetly raised her hips, her face burying into the sweet-smelling pillow to conceal her nervous embarrassment as her body was stripped bare of the last remnant of her clothing. If it had been difficult for Briget to submit to the removal of her clothes, it was even harder to permit Mark to manacle her wrists with the broad leather cuffs he wrapped around each of them. It wasn't so much that she didn't want him to - she did, albeit with some reservations. But he was mercifully quick, buckling each wrist before turning his attention to her ankles. Briget felt light-headed as each of her ankles was wrapped snugly with leather cuffs. She bent her arms defensively up under her body, defensively because he was about to steal her freedom and she was willingly submitting. The way his hands grabbed her ankles, manipulating the shoes off her feet, thrilled her and made her acutely aware that she was now completely naked. In a moment, he was back beside her head, leaning over and gently prizing her manacled wrists free from under her body so they could be attached with attractively small padlocks to the ends of a long wooden bar. Briget watched silently as Mark tugged the bar close to the bedhead, lifting the loose end of a short rope from behind it to secure the bar and Briget's outstretched arms above her head. 'You see,' Mark said. 'I told you you wanted this!' Briget just blushed and sheepishly mumbled her agreement. 'Yes...but not from some stranger...' 'Don't worry Briget...you won't know who's in here with you...or care...' Mark chuckled to himself as he slipped a sleeping mask over her head. 'What are you doing?' Briget felt a rush of panic as everything went black behind the mask. She arched her back, immediately struggling to turn her head to try and discern what he was doing. 'Yes...' Mark said thoughtfully. 'Very nice...it's even got the nice little emblem of the airline company on it...they gave us those in a sample bag when we arrived at the conference...I wonder why they did that?' Briget didn't laugh at his perverse joke. Instead, she fought desperately against the manacles around her wrists, feeling more and more helpless, especially when she felt his hands back on her ankles. 'Please...please Mark...don't do this...let me go...' Briget whimpered as her legs were spread obscenely apart. The small vibration of the padlocks snapping closed at the ends of a long bar sent little shock waves through her ankle bones, up her widely spread legs and seemed to ripple around her crotch until all her concentration suddenly zoomed to her clit. She dared not speak out loud what she was thinking, but the sensation of having her body trapped in such a lewdly revealing position had stimulated her in a totally unexpected way, and she felt certain her now swollen clit was itching and stirring from beneath the protective fleshy hood at the apex of her pussy. This both filled her with a dry-mouthed excitement and acute embarrassment, intuitively sensing Mark's penetrating gaze on her uncontrollable display of perverse delight. The cool conditioned air filled the void between her thighs, reminding her that she was helplessly on display for him, unable to do anything to modestly protect herself. Struggling against the secure restraints only deepened her escalating arousal - the tender lips of her slit unfurling almost magically to betray her most profound emotional condition. 'There! That should hold you!' Mark said, hitching a rope from the center of the spreader bar to the short middle castor wheel at the bottom end of the bed. 'Now...let's get Jeremy on the phone and see what he has to say about you. I'm sure he'll be very pleased!' Briget's heart pounded furiously in her chest. Mark's fingers feathering on the soles of her feet, gently pressing into the soft webbing between her wriggling toes, made her think again about the message she'd read from Jeremy. She listened intently to the beeping sounds of buttons being pressed on a mobile phone, Mark obviously using the moment to imply by his casual groping of her sensitive feet what would happen once his client arrived. Mark listened as the phone buzzed its familiar ringing tone, admiring the perfectness of the beautiful nude body stretched out on the bed in front of him. He felt swelled with self-satisfaction, his eyes wandering from the tips of Briget's long, spidery fingers to the tips of her attractively dainty toes. There was a pinkness about her feet which was highly alluring to him. It suggested not merely a cleanliness about her, but was a clear sign of her wariness about having them handled in any way. He cupped the big toe of her right foot in his hand just to feel its form. He held it for a second, twisting it gently to force Briget's foot into a position where he could see the subdued red gloss on her toes. He congratulated himself silently for having been accurate with his first impression of Briget. The nails were neatly trimmed, and the application of the red polish revealed things about her he knew she probably didn't even realize herself. He didn't have to imagine her sitting in her room earlier in the day, rubber spacers holding her toes widely spread while she applied the gloss, being thoroughly careful to paint it on evenly and without spillage on her toes. He knew she was too innocent yet to understand, but the ritual of painting her nails, especially in making her toes attractive, was a manifest sign of a desire to have them tickled and caressed. It was also true, Mark knew well, that a girl who'll let you touch her feet will let you touch her anywhere. It didn't matter that Briget presently had no say in the matter. She wasn't objecting at all to his sensual caressing, and, looking at the way the rest of her beautiful nude body was vulnerably open to his eyes, there was no way she could stop him or anybody else caressing her all over. Mark wondered whether he should check his computer for the names of some other clients...maybe make a group booking for the weekend? 'Hello, Jeremy?' Mark said when his call was finally answered. 'I have your itinerary all set out here and ready to go...don't forget your camera!'

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/17719.txt

TheRant

Greek Lessons

'Yum!' I thought to myself as Erika leaned across her desk to pick up the thick textbook she used to teach this course. 'Advanced Computer Architecture' I didn't find too difficult, and I really didn't need to join this tutorial class Erika had started after the real class, but since I had taken the 'Intro to Computer Architecture' from her last semester and had joined the tutorial group for that, I decided to join this one too. Erika, who demanded that all her students call her by her first name instead of by her title, was the best professor I'd had yet at my two and a half years at the university. She was also definitely the most gorgeous, beautiful and sexy. She reminded me of one of those Greek goddesses from those terrible 1960s Hercules movies. Five foot six with long wavy chestnut brown hair, dark eyes that really looked into you when she talked to you, and a tight, well-built figure that made her look much younger than the 38 years I knew she had. And then there was her accent. She spoke English perfectly but had a thick Greek accent that lent a real sexy mystique to her voice. I didn't find it as sexy as an Australian accent, but it certainly came a close second. 38 wasn't that old. Michelle's mother had just turned 38. And yes, for those of you who might have noticed, I do have a bit of a thing for my best friend's mom. She looked fabulous, a more mature version of her beautiful daughter, and I'd had more than a few wet dreams about her, usually ones that had both her and Michelle as feature performers, but was adult enough to know that they were nothing but post-adolescent fantasies. Erika looked up from the desk and smiled at me as she noticed that I was staring fixatedly at her ass in the tight jeans she was wearing. "Do you like my bottom?" she asked me frankly. "I spend a half hour every morning on aerobics to keep it this way." The rest of the group of students that had joined this regular after-class meeting had already left, and I was just packing up myself when I'd gotten that chance to glimpse those nice half-moons jiggling in her pants. I stared at her a bit shocked, but should have been used to her frankness by now. When Erika had a question to ask you, she came right out and asked it. "My last husband said it was my best feature," she said. Before I could answer, she slid her hands down her back and cupped the two cheeks in her hands. "Hell, Erika!" I said, deciding to be just as frank. "You don't have any bad features." She smiled at me, raising my temperature and blood pressure. "Would you close the windows and blinds for me." She turned back to gathering her stuff off the desk. Really, I would have just preferred sitting in my chair behind the desk for another minute; I didn't want her to see me standing up, but knew she'd just ask me if anything was wrong if I didn't comply, so I just stood up, a noticeable bulge in my pants that just wouldn't go down. I went to the side of the room and began closing and locking the windows and then lowering and shutting the blinds. When I finished and turned back, she was sitting on the corner of her desk and staring at me with a knowing grin. "Simon, you are my favorite student," she told me. "Do you know why?" I had a few answers to that question that I would have liked to say, but instead answered with, "Because I've got the highest grade in the class." "True enough," she said as she hopped off her desk, sending her breasts jumping under her sweater and my half-softening bulge back to full hardness. Walking to the door into the room, she closed it and locked it. "But no, that is not it. It is because you listen to what I am saying and watch what I am doing and always can tell what I am going to do next." With that, she went back to the desk, stretched out sensually on top of it, and undid the top of her jeans. I walked to her and watched as she wriggled out of them until they flopped to the floor. "I bet I can guess what you're going to do next," I told her as I moved closer and began to rub my hand against the frilly lace-like material of her panties. "Yes, that is why you are my favorite student," she said, reaching up to pull my face down to hers. I joined enthusiastically into the kiss as one of my hands reached under the sweater to grab a hot, needle-tipped breast while my other hand still rubbed her cunt through her panties until they were soaked with her drippings. I still remember more than vividly at the beginning of this semester, she stopped me before leaving the class, holding me there until all the other students had gone. She had asked if I thought she was attractive, and I admitted that I thought she was beautiful. Then she had stunned me by asking if I wanted to be her lover. Before I could answer, she had told me, like today, to close the windows and blinds, and by the time I had gotten back, she had locked the door and was lying naked on her desk. After that, I hadn't really needed to answer her with words. My actions had been more than enough. As I broke the kiss, I slid down her body until my face was hovering over her erotically aromatic groin. Taking the hand I had been rubbing her with, I licked the dampness off my fingers and then kissed the wet crotch of her panties, sucking more moisture into my mouth. "Ah, yes!" she said, laughing joyfully. "I love it when you kiss me down there. None of my husbands would do it. Only Uncle Louis had a taste for me." "They were all idiots," I told her, reaching my hand to the elastic band holding up the underwear. "No wonder you divorced the three of them. Your Uncle was the only smart one. You taste fabulous." As I slipped her panties down her legs, I remembered the first time I had buried my face between those sweet thighs of hers. She had been divorced only six months, but had been so horny that she had approached me after she thought I had been watching her more than just attentively during class. Truthfully, I had always stared at her like that since I had first walked into her class, but it took her over-stressed hormones 5 months to finally notice. When I had first kissed the inside of her thighs, she had been thrilled. And when I began fucking her with my tongue, she had had to stop herself from screaming. Her last husband, she told me, was a real sex maniac, but he only loved to fuck. Over and over, he would push his thing between her legs and into her mouth, but never would he kiss her down there. Only Uncle Louis had ever kissed her down there. Then she told me about how she lost her virginity, or as she said, she had lost nothing and gained a whole new look on life. Erika was twelve when her uncle first started to approach her. She had been an early bloomer, had had her first period when she was 10 and had gone through 3 bra sizes by the time she was 11. When her uncle had kissed her, not in that friendly way he had always kissed her but in that way she had seen her momma and papa kiss when they thought she wasn't looking, she was both thrilled and frightened. Uncle Louis was a strong, handsome man, and of late she had been having strange feelings for him, and a number of older boys when she saw them. When her uncle pulled away his mouth from her and saw her smiling at him, he had then reached out and began to squeeze her breasts through her shirt and bra. It felt very good to her, but he said it would feel even better if she was not wearing them. Trusting her uncle, she quickly took them off, and true enough, it did feel much better. Especially when he replaced his strong hands with his mouth and began sucking and nibbling on her nipples. Then Uncle Louis began to rub her between her legs under her skirt, and that felt even better yet. When he asked her to take it and her panties off, she rushed as fast as she could to remove them. Her uncle had smiled at her downy patch of hair and at the woman's place underneath it that was starting to get damp.When he kissed his way down from her breasts, over her stomach, through the short brown hairs and to the woman's place, she again felt thrilled and frightened but also confused. She had sneaked watches at her parents doing things in their bedroom a few times, but they had never done this. Then when his tongue started to lick and stroke her insides, she no longer cared. Her uncle only took a few minutes to kiss her into her very first orgasm. It had been such a sensation that she knew she must do it again and again, as often as her uncle would let her. Then he had taken the man's thing out of his pants. She had seen her father's and a few boys' before, but to actually be this close to one. She hesitantly reached out and touched the hard-looking rod and felt the heat it was giving off. "You are burning up," she told her uncle. He just smiled and told her that he knew of a way to cool off. Then he stuck the rod between her legs like she had seen her parents do. At first, it wasn't very nice, but after a moment, she began to feel more and more pleasant sensations as her uncle pushed back and forth in her. Just as she was really starting to feel really good, Uncle Louis made a loud grunt and spat out his seed into her. She was a bit disappointed, but less than fifteen minutes later, Uncle Louis came back for more. And this time, he did not disappoint her. After she told me about her first time, she in turn asked me about mine. I told her about Michelle and then a little bit about Kathy, which she seemed to find very exciting. She was very pleased when I told her that I was still seeing Michelle as often as we could. Her Uncle Louis had died 5 years ago in a traffic accident, and she missed him very much still. Looking up from between her legs, I saw that she had removed her sweater and her bra and was happily playing with her nipples. The combined caresses quickened her release, and in less than a minute, my mouth was full of her juices as she began to flop her ass up and down, trying to drive my face even further into her. "That was good!" she told me as she began to calm down. "I am going to miss you when you graduate." I slid up her body, pussy juice dripping off of my chin in a wet trail, and kissed her hard on the mouth. "I've still got three years left to go," I told her. "You're not getting rid of me that easily." She laughed and kissed me hard back, her tongue dancing in my mouth. "Maybe yes, but this is the last of my classes for you to take." "If you're worried that I won't want to see you once I'm no longer your student, you're wrong," I told her, reaching down to help guide my cock into her wet hole. "I'm not fucking you for good grades; I'm doing all right there on my own. I'm fucking you because you're beautiful, and I want you." Raising myself on my hands and knees, I hunkered down and pounded away at her, my cock digging deeper and deeper inside her with every thrust. "Yes, keep doing that," she pleaded, her head swinging back and forth with each thrust. "That feels so good." I smiled down at her and nibbled on her throat and neck, then her ears, and then finally her lips. She really was the most sensual woman I'd ever known. Sure, Michelle, Kathy, Lisa, and Sheila were all sexy, but Erika had something they didn't - the experience and the drive to experience even more. Given time, I'm sure Michelle and Sheila would gain that quality, but for now, they were just too young. "Give me more! Give me more!" Erika demanded as she pushed up against me with each thrust. I was buried in her to the very base of my cock, and for a second, I thought her hungry cunt was going to suck in my balls as well. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she began to chant, the familiar signal of a powerful vaginal orgasm building up, so I hurried my pace even further, plowing up and down so hard it felt like I was trying to set a new record for the hundred-meter dash. "Yes! Yes! Yessssssssss!" she screamed as she threw her arms around me and pulled me tightly to her body as she came. Her mouth opened and sucked in my tongue, her diamond-hard nipples dug into my chest, while her hips fluttered up and down like a hummingbird's wings. "Oh yes!" I yelled my own appreciative cheer as her tremoring cunt sucked the cum right out of my cock, swallowing it down inside itself. For another minute, we held each other, our joined groins still trembling. Then she gave a slow, sensual kiss and rolled over so we were lying on our side, facing each other. "Simon, did you mean that?" she asked me. "You will still come and see me when you have finished with my class?" "Erika, for such a gorgeous, sexy woman, you have a bit of an insecurity problem," I joked. "As long as you want me, I'll come see you." "That's nice, Simon," she said, hugging me tightly to her warm, soft body. "But next time, can we go somewhere else? I think people are starting to notice that groove your ass is digging on the desk top." She looked over before realizing I was teasing her. "In that case, what are you doing this weekend? I have just bought a new waterbed, and it could use some trying out."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year98/16615.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'What's to stop me saying yes, taking the pill, and running off to find Kat?' I asked. She must have thought of that one. 'Forget Kat. She is effectively gone. I doubt that even my remaining millions would be able to find her. She could be any woman, and a harem is not the place for another beautiful young lady to be looking in.' 'So you have, in all practicality, killed her.' 'No, as a doctor I have sworn to protect life. She has about ten years as a harem sex slave before she is released. That will make her nearly forty. No doubt she would try and come running to find you, but with no birth certificate, no documents, and looking very Arabic, I very much doubt she could leave the country. These Bedouin harems are given free reign by most Middle-Eastern governments, so it's going to be impossible to track her down. Slave traders don't keep records, you know.' I wanted to cry for my poor Kat, locked away in chains in some depraved sheikh's harem, being used as just a sex and entertainment object. I knew Elizabeth was right. My darling 'Kat' was gone. 'Now back to your question about double-crossing me. You are quite correct, I have thought of that. Your natural body state is now female. The pill will change your body back to that of your male self. But the only way to keep it that way is to ingest a drug which I and only I have the means to produce. Each day you are without it, a part of you will turn back into me, this time for good, and in reverse order. That's right -- vagina first, then breasts, then head, and you know the rest. Ten days later you will resemble me again, this time for good.' 'So you will have me on a leash.' 'That's right. If you or I go away, I will leave enough drug to last you until my return. You will not be able to stray from my side forever.' 'What if you are killed or maimed in an accident?' 'Then ten days later, Dr. Elizabeth Bexley lives on in you.' 'So really, I have no choice at all.' 'You can say no and stay like that for good. I just hope you can adjust more than you have said. Otherwise, you will find womanhood a nightmare.' 'Can I think about it?' 'OK, you have two hours,' and with that, she carefully and visibly took the pill bottle, put it in her purse, and started to walk out. 'Wait, how can I think properly when every part of me is on fire in arousal?' 'Good point,' Elizabeth said, 'Fail-safe gamma disengage two hours. Fail-safe omega engage in two hours twenty minutes,' she added and went out. The waves of pleasure stopped, but I still could not move. The choice was clear. Just what would I give up for love? I had no doubt that Elizabeth was now quite insane. I was also in no doubt that she was also deadly serious. She meant to be my wife at any cost, and indeed this horrible choice must have been her plan from the start. To choose between life as a man, constrained by some chemical leash, or freedom as a woman, was really no choice at all. These past few days of being ogled at, being constantly aroused by the sight of my now tattooed breasts and body, menstruation looming, having to wear makeup, trying to find love again, and worst of all, missing Kat -- this meant to me that being a woman was out of the question. Maybe someone else in the same situation would have been able to adjust, but not me. So the only other choice was to be with Elizabeth as a house-trained slave. I was in no doubt that she could and would use the threat of not giving me the drug against me, and I would be a prisoner no matter how beautiful the cell. In a way, I was in the same situation as Kat, just a sex slave for an insane master (or mistress). If she could put this fail-safe thing in me, what else could she do? 'Fail-safe override,' I said. Nothing happened. I was still paralyzed. I guess if it was that easy to get around, it wouldn't be a fail-safe. The command had to come from Elizabeth. There had to be a third option. Got it! Agree to her deal, then use whatever allowance she gave me to try and free myself from the drug's reliance. If it was done in secret, she would never know until it was too late. Before two hours was up, Elizabeth walked back in, still wearing Kat's body. 'Fail-safe all disengage five minutes, Fail-safe Omega engage in ten minutes,' she said. The pleasure waves went away as quickly as they had come. 'What's your choice?' she demanded. 'Deal. I want to marry you. Give me the pill,' I said. She thought for a moment and gave me pill number two. I took a glass of water in slender female hands, put the glass to my full pouting lips, and took the pill. Staring down at my heaving breasts, I breathed a sigh of relief - at last, the ordeal was over. 'Liar!' Elizabeth said. My body began to sweat uncontrollably. Here it comes, I thought. Suddenly, I felt sick and rushed to the bathroom and promptly threw up violently. Several more chucks later, I stopped, stood up, and saw to my horror that my breasts were still there. A quick check down there met only with moist, warm flesh. 'How long until I change back?' 'Never!' Elizabeth said. 'You don't think I looked at my own face for twenty years and didn't know when I was lying.' 'You mean?' 'Yes, the last pill makes all your changes permanent.' My hand went to my face and traced its gentle oval shape, and feeling tears welling up inside me, I just cried. My fate was sealed. A woman I was, and a woman I would remain. 'You had a chance,' she said. 'How could I have avoided this?' I sobbed (thigh over thigh, what a pair! NO!) 'Said no to my deal.' 'Why?' 'Because you're right. I am a bitch, and now so are you.' I collapsed into uncontrollable sobs. 'Now you are me. You will need these,' she said, and she threw a passport and airline tickets at me. 'I think it's about time Dr. Elizabeth Bexley left, as I am very tired and I want to change as soon as I can,' she said. 'Wait,' I said. Kat, no, Elizabeth, held a cassette recorder in the air and said, 'This is my insurance. If anything happens to me, this will be found, and you, my dearest twin, will be in the proverbial shit.' She switched it on. 'If you don't leave now, Dr. Bexley, I will call security. My husband is due soon, and I know how you felt about being jilted by him. I don't know why you followed us here, but you must go. So please leave,' she said this with the distress obvious in her voice (what an actress!). 'No, you leave!' I screamed. 'This is my hotel room, and you are no longer welcome here,' she said with a hard, determined tone. 'OK, I'll go. But first, I need to, you know, go.' 'Alright then.' I took off my trousers and stood in front of the bowl instinctively. I reached out for a dick but was only met by two folds of female flesh. I started to urinate standing up but quickly remembered to sit down before too much went all over the floor. Elizabeth came in and laughed in a vicious way, and threw me a skirt, saying 'you'd better wear this -- your jeans are dirty now'. I put on the patterned skirt. It reached down to my ankles and made me almost sick seeing it there. 'Time to go, Liz,' Elizabeth said, starting the cassette tape again. And I went out, taking the tickets with me. Looking at the ticket showed that they were for the 03:10 flight to JFK only. This was my only chance of escape. The passport showed the face of Elizabeth Bexley, Ph.D. Looking at the details caused my heart to sink. Name: Dr. Elizabeth Bexley Hair: Auburn Eyes: Blue Height: 1.77 Meters Sex: Female The 'Female' part, although in the same print, burned its way from the page into my mind. Distinguishing Marks: Mole on Right Thigh (soon to have massive tattoo of a hydra, I thought). Occupation: Medical Doctor. Looking at the time in the hotel (since I grew her arms, my watch didn't fit), I saw I had a full six hours to kill. I needed to be alone, and so I walked. No longer in the confines of my hotel room, I could not explore my body anymore, but every sway of hip, every touch of my skirt on my thighs, every bounce of breast, and every swish of hair could not deny or hide what and who I had forever become. The taxi to the airport got me to the terminal just in time to catch the flight. 8. Hell Hath No Fury ================ If Elizabeth's vengeance on me was long and convoluted, mine would be swift and immediate.I did not have the means to inflict on her the pain and suffering that she had done to me, and I knew she was due (as Kat) to leave in three days. So as I sat on the plane and flew home, I knew she mustn't be allowed to escape. Because once she was back, I would lose her forever. She did say that she wanted her body back, but I couldn't wait that long. No doubt she would ensure that I could not follow her or track her down. So the only chance I had was when she came off of her flight. I slept rough for three days. I could not bring myself to check into a motel, and besides, I had no money. I refused to take the obvious last-ditch career choice for when a girl is out of money, so I slept rough. Or rather, tried to. I was followed on several occasions, and rape seemed inevitable, but somehow each time I managed to lose my follower in the crowded streets of New York. Every hour I was awake, my sense of loss grew - Kat, my manhood, my life. I wished Elizabeth had just killed me, but this living hell followed me around. Everywhere I went, men and women went to and fro, minding their own business. To them, I was just a rather unkempt woman who had fallen on hard times. Sure, give her sympathy, but not much else. I had no prospect, only a drop into prostitution or exotic dancing, but I suspected that my tattoo would severely restrict the clients I would get. In any case, I loathed my vagina and could not face kissing a man. Let's face it, the market for lesbians who had a thing for tattoos must be very small. My mind was in a blur, but then a plan came into focus. Day came and then a night, and then it was time to move. I chose the nearest gun shop to the airport and went in. 'What'll it be, miss?' the owner said. 'I want something to protect me whilst I find work,' I tried to say seductively. 'And what work is that?' the man asked. Men were all the same. I should know, I am still one inside, and I lust after myself every day. 'What do you think?' 'I think you're a girl who enjoys a good time.' 'Do you want a freebie?' I said. The man came out from around the counter. He was easily six feet tall and had broad shoulders, his face showing the scars of several fights. 'Do you like this?' I said, and I showed my thigh with the hydra's tail tattoo on it. 'Cool tattoo,' the man said. 'It goes all the way up,' I said, 'come and see.' As he bent down to look up my skirt at the tattoo and, more than likely, my crotch, I quickly brought my leg up into his face. He screamed and collapsed into a heap. Before he could get up, I stamped my foot into his genitals, and he writhed around helpless. Just to be sure, a quick chop to the windpipe soon sorted him out. The keys were in his pocket, and as I lifted them out, I looked at the clock on the wall. Just over two hours before Elizabeth was due to arrive back. Looking at the array of weapons, I wondered which one to choose. I REALLY wanted a magnum, but could hardly lift one. So I had to settle for a small-caliber Colt. The ammo was hard to find, but eventually, I found some. Carrying the gun into an airport was going to be difficult with nothing to put it in, so looking around, I saw the man's sports bag laying behind the counter. Perfect! Fully tooled up, I hitched to the airport but remained quiet. I had no idea how I would get away with this, but nothing but vengeance mattered now. There is an old saying - before starting out on revenge, dig two graves, one for them, one for you. There was also another saying that revenge is a dish best served cold. Well, my heart was as cold and sharp as flint. I sat waiting in the arrivals lounge, my slender hand inside the bag, feeling the surprise I had for Elizabeth. I didn't have to wait long. In a crowd, I saw her, still as Kat, looking very relaxed. NOW! I thought. But there were too many people around. At a distance, I followed her. She became aware of my pursuit and started to run down a long, brightly lit corridor. 'Help me,' she screamed, but still, I pursued her, oblivious to all around me. Suddenly, I had a clear shot, and I pulled the gun from the bag and took aim. The pressure needed on the trigger was greater than I thought, and suddenly the world was in slow motion. There was a loud CRACK!, and the gun bucked in my hand. I looked up in time to see the back of Elizabeth's head explode as the shell hit the base of the skull. I heard another CRACK just in time to feel stabbing, burning pain as a bullet entered my shoulder. I was spun to the ground with the force of the impact, and the last thing I saw was the blood seeping out from the remains of Elizabeth's head. A smile spread across my face. 'All done,' I said. I awoke in prison overalls with my shoulder still aching. I was dragged into a small room, where two cops sat opposite me. 'Why'd you do it, Elizabeth?' they asked. 'You wouldn't believe me.' 'Try us. You had everything - money, looks, intelligence. You could have had any man you wanted. Why'd you kill Jane Stephens?' 'That wasn't Kat, I mean Jane.' 'Then who did you think it was?' I could see where this was leading, and I just kept quiet. 'We found this on her,' and the cop produced the cassette tape. He inserted it into a player. The conversation Elizabeth and I had before I was thrown out was replayed. 'You know what it looks like to us?' the cop said. 'What?' 'Distraught over being jilted, you decided to take a little trip to the happy honeymooners. You tried to warn Jane off, but she threw you out. You then lay in wait and blew her brains out so that hubby would come running back to you.' Some time later. 'All Rise.' 'How does the jury find the defendant?' 'Guilty on all counts.' 'Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, you have been found guilty of the first-degree murder of Jane Stephens. You will be taken from this place and brought to another where you will be executed by lethal injection. May God have mercy on your soul.' The End

4/4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/1519.txt

Darkside

Hell Hath No Fury

'I am now coming onto that. I will not let you get to the point where you are in danger of death because your poor body cannot cope with the stress. Therefore, I will give you a pill whenever you start to lapse into a coma.' 'The thought of more of me being like THIS repulses me, but let me choose when to take a pill.' At the 'this' I again gestured to my legs (Thigh over Thigh, STOP IT). 'I had been thinking along the same lines,' I admitted. 'OK, I will agree, but if you try to hold out past a danger point, I will override and force you to take one.' So by current reckoning, I had...Let me see...9 hours left until the next pill, that means there will be seven pills left. At two days a pill, that gives me just over fourteen days before I am Elizabeth Bexley. However, at what point will I be female - when breasts grow, when I have a vagina, womb, or is gender just a state of mind? Ten days after that will mean either happily ever after or.. No, the other is just too unthinkable. Kat said, 'Plenty of time -- just under a month to E day.' How does Kat know what I am thinking? Women's intuition? 'Listen, I want to go for a walk to see if anyone saw anything a few days ago,' I know I should have gone earlier, but this has knocked us all out of sorts,' Kat said, and with this, she went out of the room. Alone, with only five hours to go before the pain really started, I started to think logically. If I can last two days after taking one pill, maybe taking two pills will extend it past a week. Some of the drug must still be left in me after the changes in order to stop the fever. So now three days was the most I went without, and that was the limit, and I become very uncomfortable after two and a half days. So if I take two pills, then I should be able to last at least five days, maybe even six. Which means that my total male time remaining would be 7 * 2=14, or if I took two pills and they lasted me five days, it would be 7/2=3.5 pills multiplied by 5 equals 17.5 days, which buys me 3 and a half extra days. Three hours later, and Kat had not yet returned. Well, what have I got left to lose, I thought. Your dick for a start came the reply from inside me. I will take two pills to see if I can overload the drug to extend the time I have available. Let me think. Pills three and four gave me her legs, so which ones won't give me tits and a cunt. I didn't know how Elizabeth would number the pills, so I, taking a glass of water and trying not to spill any as the fever was beginning to get a grip on me, took pills five and six in quick succession. I erupted in spasm only to pass out. Five hours later, a very concerned Kat was standing over me. 'What did you do, You took one, didn't you?' 'No, two,' and I explained my reasoning to her. 'You stupid idiot!' she shrieked, 'Can't you see the narcotic is adjusting your thought patterns and probably your math to allow it to fool you into speeding up the transformation. That's how Elizabeth was to stop you from dying, by making the drug seduce you into giving your body enough time to rest by making you take a multiple dose.' 'What have I done?' I sobbed. 'How long?' 'About five hours.' 'Can I stay and watch?' she asked with a curious look. 'You are sick!' 'No, just curious,' she said with a mischievous grin. At that moment, I was kicked in the gut by a mule, at least it felt like that. My mouth started to froth as I convulsed in pain. Wave after wave of mule kicks made me lose consciousness. I awoke sometime later. 'Which bit?' I rasped. 'That was amazing! I have never seen anything like it,' Kat said. I reached for my dick, and the relief of finding him still there was immeasurable. I then reached up to feel for breasts, but all that met my hands was my smooth skin. Phew, no tits! Wait a minute. Smooth Skin! I stood up and dashed to a mirror. What greeted me there was a shock -- round but firm muscular shoulders sat above a smooth, hairless, slim form. They were the kind of shoulders that came from lots of time in the gym, but not macho in any shape or form. There were no breasts or hips to emphasize the womanly shape, but the rounded, sylph form of Elizabeth's body stared back at me. 'No, no, no, what was I thinking!' I sobbed. Kat's fingers traced the lines of my now womanly shoulder blades. I recoiled away. 'I thought you took two pills,' she said. 'I did.' 'But only one thing changed.' 'This is a pretty big thing,' I sobbed. I noticed for the first time how my belly seemed to go in, forming a tight, muscled flat stomach. 'At least your navel has stayed the same, although the shape of your stomach makes it smaller and much more cute,' Kat stated. 'Navels aren't genetic, remember.' I ran my hand over the smooth skin of my new body. This sent tingles down my spine, and once again, I felt aroused. However, seeing those curved, rounded shoulders, flat stomach, and flat, thin, hairless chest soon turned me off. 'What is up with me. How can I be a normal woman if I catch myself ogling my legs and body?' I just noticed my collarbone was more visible now and seemed to want to try and connect to thankfully non-existent breasts. 'You took two pills. You must have another part to go.' 'No way! I need to go bad,' I said. Sitting on the toilet, looking down at my sylph-shaped body, I wondered where and how it was going to end. I actually knew where it was going to end - me ending up being female, but the other issue was how Kat would react to sleeping with a woman. The thought of even kissing a man caused me almost to vomit. Wait a minute! PAIN! Crunch of bone! I looked down at my shapely, firm thighs only to notice that my hips were suddenly much smaller. 'Kat,' I gasped, and I rolled off the seat. She rushed in. 'Oh my God!' she screamed. The flesh was rippling around my hips while inside me, several rhinos were trying to escape. I clutched my abdomen in pain. 'Ahhh, my belly!' I sobbed. 'That must be your womb forming.' The flesh movements were subsiding where I could see them, but the sensation from my ass had increased. 'Turn round,' Kat said, and she showed me the view of my rear in the mirror. My buttocks were re-forming, becoming tighter, smaller, and much, much more feminine. The rippling stopped. Nice ass, I thought, but the rhinos reminded me that it was now mine. I stood up, still weak and sweaty. Thankfully, the rhinos had stopped. Which gave me time to examine the changes. In front of the full-length mirror stood a very peculiar sight -- a titless, fannyless woman stood there with muscular arms and a very non-feminine face. Smooth, graceful curves went from my rounded shoulders past my chest and dipped in at just the right point. My hips caused the classic hourglass figure, while my long legs now seemed to be far more at home curving gracefully into my hips. The taut, muscular stomach now blended into a bulge in the pubic area, which I with horror assumed must be my womb. Turning round, I saw how my ass was firmer, much more shaped, and indeed would probably have won 'rear of the year'. Each cheek was delicately shaped with just enough curve to cause yet another curve from the small of my back to my ass. 'Oh no, no, no, no, no,' I sobbed. 'Apart from a few bits, I am a woman now.' More sobbing as I broke down in tears. 'Don't be silly, you may have curves in all the right places now, but look, you are still male. You still have a dick, your face is hardly girlish, and not many women have arms as hairy as yours,' Kat tried to console me. 'You don't understand! If I have a womb, it now means that I am producing female hormones, which will cause me to grow breasts and become more ladylike.' 'Yes, but your testosterone will fight that, and tests have shown that testosterone will cancel out any excess female hormones.' 'How did you know that?' 'What? You think I never read anything before?' 'Sorry, look, I am really stressed about this. I thought I could cope until this change. This is the point of no return. I must try and adjust, but I find I cannot. I look in the mirror or at my legs and see HER, not me, HER.' Kat hugged me, and her fingers ran comforting circles around the small of my back. I could feel her breasts heaving against my smooth skin, and again, the moment was spoiled as I pulled away. 'What?' she said. 'I'm sorry, I loathe anything female now. I feel your breasts against my chest and imagine waking up to find I've got them too, you deciding you cannot live with me, me trying to fit in being a woman but failing. Look at this.' I stood up and walked across the room. I was aware of my hips swaying, but tried to put it out of my mind.'See the REAL Elizabeth walked with such grace and posture that she seemed to float, but look at me -- I just waddle. I'm an in-between trapped now between two worlds and I just want my old life back.' 'With that figure, you look more in my camp than yours,' Kat said. 'I know,' I sobbed. 'Look, let's get some sleep. I still want to sleep with you, and if it helps, you can wear my black teddy and garters. I know that turns men on, me as well thinking about it.' 'We've had this conversation before.' 'Yes, but not when the chances of you being able to make love to me properly have dropped from ten to one to six to one. 'Just let me rest -- this is the worst day of my life.' I was feeling utterly tired, and again my normal healthy desires were out to lunch. I awoke early in the morning, much refreshed, and decided to venture outside. I tried on one of my old shirts, but it was now far too loose and hung on my new body like an old sack. A T-shirt was no good as it showed every curve of my new shape, and although I once again looked lustfully at the body under that shirt, reality soon struck back. Pants were another problem. My normal size didn't fit anymore, and even when the belt was fastened as tight as it would go, they still either looked ridiculous or extremely baggy. Kat had been watching my 'fashion show' with some concern, but also she was a little amused. 'Do you want to try something of mine?' 'No, that would be giving in to what is happening to me. The moment I try on women's clothes, I am admitting what I am becoming, and that I refuse to do.' 'Dressing up can be fun,' Kat said. 'Maybe, but I can't pass as a woman even if I wanted to. My hair is too short, my hands too big, and...and why am I even thinking this?' 'Because you are trying to adapt to your situation and are willing to give it a try.' 'LISTEN,' I hissed. 'What?' 'I will repeat again. I will resist this with all my might. I am facing a craving for something that will destroy our life together. I cannot give in to it,' I added with passion. 'Fair enough. Do you want me to see what I can buy for you? I need to take your measurements.' 'I know them: waist 36, inside leg...' 'No, your new measurements with a body that shape. Now I have to take hip and waist.' 'OK,' I said, defeated. 'Let me see: waist 24, hips 36. At least Elizabeth is perfectly proportioned.' 'Remember, nothing female, no skirts, no leotards.' 'This IS Egypt. It is not done for a lady to show her legs or ankles in public, so I will buy pants for you.' An hour later, she was back, carrying a couple of bags. 'Here, try these on,' and she threw me a pair of stretch jeans. 'These are women's jeans,' I protested. 'You have a women's body shape now; men's just won't fit now.' I reluctantly put them on and did them up. The first thing I noticed was how much a bulge my dick made in them, but I had no desire to see that go. Turning around, I saw my ass, well, Elizabeth's ass in these tight jeans, and as I looked in the full-length mirror, I again thought, 'God, she looks good in those.' 'Look cute, don't you?' Kat said. Again, my lust was jolted back to reality. 'Why do I fancy myself every time I look in the mirror?' 'That's easy, it's because inside you are a normal hetero-male, even though the outside is beginning to look decidedly the opposite. Try these on,' and Kat threw me a shirt and some sandals. The shirt tried to hide my curves, but it would be obvious to anyone who looked closely that men shouldn't have curves where I had. The sandals were the most satisfactory thing. It was only the size of my feet that gave anything away. Fully clothed for the first time in days, I ventured outside. The sunlight was bright, and the day gloriously hot. We did the normal things tourists do in Egypt: pyramids and Sphinx tombs, and for two glorious days, it seemed as though nothing had happened. Yes, my new body got some strange looks from the more observant. I still refused to sleep with Kat, as I knew that sooner or later, more drastic changes would occur. The sex situation was not helped by my distinct lack of sex drive. Don't think for a minute I had accepted my fate. I detested every waggle of hip, every curve, every part of my new body. I had to go along for Kat's sake. I must say, though, that she has been taking it very well, but I hate to think what will happen later on. Kat stated her disbelief that I was still in denial over this, but then I am who I am, or should that be I am who I was. Still, seize the day. In fact, the fever hadn't returned after the third day, and it looked as though my theory was right. Kat suggested that it was because my body needed time to recuperate and that the fever wouldn't return until it was safe to do so. 'If it does, I am taking two at a time again. These past few days were the best I have felt since it all began,' I said to Kat. 'No, I want you male as long as I can! How can you be so selfish? I have needs too, you know.' Two more days passed, which made a total of five days in which I felt OK. 'I'm bushed,' I said. 'Me too, want to go to bed?' 'Sleep yes, sex no.' 'I can't wait forever, you know, neither can you! I may be able to fondle you and caress you when you are Elizabeth, but you won't be able to screw me.' 'Please, I must deal with this in my own way.' 'You haven't been dealing with it at all. Every time it's "I can't cope", "being a woman is worse than being dead", "how can I fancy myself" or "No, I won't screw you because I remind you of what you may/are becoming".' 'I waited a year to sleep with you. Can't you wait a little longer?' 'Any longer, and we will be sharing Tampons,' and with that, she stormed off. Sitting in bed, looking at my shapely legs, the curve of my hips, and the slenderness of my body, I realised that I had been selfish and that I would make it up to her when she returned. The next morning, the fever returned, but Kat was nowhere to be found. I was too unwell to venture out, and in any case, if I left the room, she might come back, get the wrong idea, and then leave, this time for good. So I stayed put. Room service delivered dinner, but again, no Kat, so I ate in silence and pain. About 10 pm, I crashed out. Morning came, and with it, the now familiar cravings. A thought popped into my head -- take a pill that'll show her. But I was wise now to this Narcotics trick, and stubbornly refused to give in. Six pm, and still no Kat, and this time I could bear it no more. Taking a glass of water, I swallowed pill number seven. The pill seemed a little larger than the others, and I had to take two goes to get it down. Now I just wait. I looked into the jar and saw only FOUR pills left. Quickly, I tipped them out and counted them. Pills ten, nine, one, two -- where was eight? The extra-large pill! Eight must have been stuck to seven. 'Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Oh Kat, Where are you...' Three hours later, and still no Kat and no changes. This meant that I would know what parts of me were to change in the next three hours. The fever subsided after another half hour. I sat on the bed, completely naked, just waiting for the inevitable. There was no pain, just an ache in my arms. As I tried to write a sorry note, I dropped the pen on the floor. Reaching out for it with my left hand, I noticed slender fingers on an even more delicate hand, a surgeon's hand. As I noticed this, the hairs on my left arm fell out, and muscles began to reshape into a more delicate form. I saw that my elbow now had that cute little dimple that Elizabeth had. My left arm was now much more in line with the rest of me. The muscles seemed to flow much more gracefully into my rounded shoulders, and my hand and nails were just as I remembered Elizabeth's to be. I was so taken in by the changes that had occurred to my left arm that it wasn't until I put a hand to feel its smooth, soft skin that I realised that BOTH my arms had changed. I had to think rationally. I had dodged a bullet, so to speak, this time, but the countdown to cunt time was getting shorter. Where was Kat? (OK THINK!!) There were ten pills, and there are now four left. Six parts of me now resembled those of Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, which means that each limb and body part must be a pill. Pill inventory time... Pills three and four had given me her legs (Thigh Over Thigh again, NO) -- Pills five and six gave me these wretched curves and a womb -- Pills' seven and eight (by mistake) gave me her slender arms. This must mean that one of the remaining pills must change my face, neck, and my god, voice! I had admired that voice for years. (Concentrate..) One must be the coup-de-grace -- the one that condemns me to womanhood. The next two, of course, a breast each. But which was which? The next day, to my horror, the fever returned. Kat was right -- it was the drug that determined how long it took for withdrawal symptoms to show, not the amount of pills taken. Kat, where are you, Kat? My body had gone through some major changes, but arms were minor, so it figures that the only large one left was my head and dick. I cannot now think straight as the fever hits in waves. I lay on the bed, calling Kat's name, but still, she did not come. Some hours later, I had to take another pill, but which one? My limbs came in pairs, so breasts must come in pairs of pills as well. That means, shit, both nine and ten and one and two are pairs. Never mind, I must take one. Taking the glass of water, I shut my eyes and popped a pill into my mouth and swallowed it. Quickly counting the three pills remaining showed me that I had swallowed number nine. Seven hours after taking pill nine, and just after I thought that must be a dud, my head felt as though it was being hit by a very large brick. I rushed to the mirror. Through the pain, I realised that I, at last, was going to LOOK like my ex-fiancée. I couldn't speak, and my head was in a whirl. Bones crunch! and my face is now oval in shape, my normal square chin gone, replaced by a rounder, softer one.My womanly hands clutch at my nose as I can feel it reshape and form hers. Pain in my gums indicates that my teeth are being reshaped, while my lips reform to form her pout. In a moment of calm, I notice my ears look different - they are her ears. I go blind for what seems an eternity as stabbing pains shoot through my eyeballs. When I blurrily look in the mirror, I see that my once brown eyes are definitely blue with a touch of gray. My normally thickish eyebrows now form a frame for a lovely yet terribly familiar face. I pull at my hair, which is now growing auburn at the roots as my entire scalp itches. I can now speak, but the voice is not my own. Somewhere, Elizabeth is calling "no no no." The full lips in the mirror match the sound, and I now own that voice. The hair by now has grown until it reaches my shoulders, and it's a strange sensation on my curved form that adds yet more pain. The hair is matted by sweat, but there is no doubt that I now look exactly like Elizabeth. I see delicate hands move up to the full pouting lips. (That's strange - I can feel hands on my mouth). They move to the oval, high-cheekboned face and trace the contours with a finger (that's even odder - why is there no stubble?). "No, this can't be me," Elizabeth's voice says again, the lips in the mirror matching the words. After what seems like hours, I begin to realize that any pretense of being a man died with that pill. Breasts and even a fanny can be hidden, but a face like this, not a chance. The full impact of the changes over the past few weeks came to me at that moment. I had been kidding myself - this was how I was going to look now, and Kat had been right, we should have made the most of it, but where is she? But I was/am a man - how could I let Elizabeth do this to me? As I sat naked, feeling my new hair brush against my shoulders, despair began to weigh on me. My life, my marriage was over. Kat, in spite of all her platitudes, had no real desire to sleep with a woman - she was no lesbian. But what was I? I could never fancy a man, and the thought of even kissing one recoiled. I still fancied women. Yes, I know that lesbian relationships can be sexually satisfying. But I am a man! My instincts are to penetrate, not be penetrated. I noticed that Kat had left a bottle of champagne in the fridge, and I opened it with much difficulty (of course, I was stronger when I had MY arms). Several glasses later, I was feeling much worse, not drunk, depressed, and I just wanted to end it, the whole thing. Let me be a woman - I don't care anymore.. Staring at the pill jar and the glass, the choice was easily made. Pills one and ten followed quickly after each other, and as I sank down into a fitful sleep, I dreamed of better days when I knew which bathroom to go in. Morning came, and I awoke. I thought I heard Kat return. I leapt out of bed but instantly regretted it as two large breasts bounced heavily on my chest. I did what any right-thinking man would do. I screamed. Gingerly, I put a womanly hand to my right breast. Its warm, sensitive firmness surprised me. I had felt tits before, but never on me. Its weight surprised me, as did exactly how sensual it felt. Gingerly, I took my hand away, and it flopped back down again, causing a strange sensation. I studied them in more detail than was perhaps healthy, but these were MY breasts, and it was not natural for a man to have them. They jutted out from my chest as though they wanted to be separate from me, their round shapes forming a definite cleavage. The nipples were pink but small, and the areolas were a darker color. Again, my hand touched a nipple, and it almost made me jump at the sensation. The nipples began to swell, and in fact, if this was a woman, I would have to say a woman in arousal. But then again, the swelling in my jeans must mean something. Anyway, going back to my breasts, I rubbed them with another hand and let out a small whimper. "Steady on, you'll wear them out," Kat said.

Part One 2/4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/4203.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'Kat' or should I say 'Jas' looks like your luck is about to change. The door opened, and in walked, how shall we put this, an Adonis. He was tall with deep brown eyes, and not a muscle (and there were plenty of them) was out of place. "I see that my money was not wasted. Come, my princess," Adonis gestured for me to follow. This I did, wondering if I was right not to resist. In spite of all this man's charm, I was married to the man I loved. If I was ever to see him again, I must gain this man's trust. I followed him outside and into a large white limousine. He gave me a glass of champagne and said, "You are the most beautiful of all my women. No man shall have you except me; you will serve no man except me. All my riches are as nothing to your beauty." I couldn't help but feel a glow of pleasure being complimented in this way. I guess I must call him master or something. "Thank you, master." "I am not your master. How could anyone lay claim to such beauty? You may call me Hassan, and you will be at my side, always. I will not have you unless you consent, for that would corrupt your beauty. You are my precious rose, there to look at and admire, not to pluck with a harsh hand. I have waited many years for a chief girl, and I knew the moment I saw you that you were the one," he said with such a gentle look on his face that my heart was beginning to melt. "Thank you, Hassan. I will remember your promise to me," I said. We sipped champagne in silence as the limousine drew up outside a large walled palace. Guards opened the large steel gates, and we drew into a wonderful courtyard. A fountain was in the center, and all around was the sweet smell of flowers. The door was opened for me by a butler, and I got out and stared around. "Welcome to your new home, my love," Adonis said. Hmm, I could stay here for a while, I thought. Hassan gestured for me to follow him, which I did. We went past large rooms where the whisper of female voices could be heard through closed doors. "You are too precious to stay with my other women," Hassan said. We went to a large winding staircase, and we climbed. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually, we reached the top. Hassan opened the door, and I went in. The room was one can only describe as palatial. Easily as large as my house at home, it had a four-poster bed with ornate silk covers. The room was littered with flowers, and a carpet of fresh rose petals lay under my feet. "It's fantastic," I gasped. "If you need anything, you can have it," Hassan said, and with that, he left. Alone for the first time since the auction, I explored the room. Behind a silk curtain was a walk-in closet with every kind of outfit. From an elegant designer ball gown to some sports kit. Kat, my girl, you really landed on your feet here. I mustn't lose sight of my true goal. A cage is still a cage, no matter how elaborate the bars. In one corner was a sunken bath full of warm white liquid. I dipped a finger in. It tasted like milk. I'd read about Cleopatra bathing in asses' milk and had always wanted to give it a go. I took off my Jasmine outfit and looked down at my new body. My situation had so overpowered me that I had forgotten who I now looked like. Jane Stephens was no more, at least in body. I dipped a brown, slender leg into the bath. Ummm, that felt good. I put my other leg in and sank in. Oww, I'd just sat on my hair. I'd forgotten it was that long. I stretched out and relaxed for the first time in ages. It didn't bother me as much as I thought, having my body changed like this. Sure, I'd want my proper form back, but this was nothing compared to how HE is changing. Oh God, what's happening to me? I've become intoxicated with this place. I'm beginning to forget. This place is like the Elysian Fields; once here, you forget your past. Hassan does not need bars and armed guards to keep his women here; he seduces them with words and milk baths, and soon they forget their past. This I will not do. Hold on, my sweet, I'll be back soon; this I vow. After spending an hour in the bath, I got up and dried myself off. Hmm, being Jasmine's not so bad, but I've yet to meet someone who will recognize me as her. I put on an ornate silk dressing gown and, tired from the events of the day, slept. A knock at the door awoke me at, I guess, around 11 am. "Come in," I shouted. At the door was another girl, this time dressed in what I would call traditional harem costume. She was smaller than me at 5'4", large-breasted, and looking very scared. "The master requests your attendance at his conference now," she said. "What shall I wear?" I asked. "The master asks that you wear dress five from your collection and shoes number twenty," she said, still in fear of me. Why? I went over to the closet and saw each hanger had a number. I saw a beautiful blue saffron dress that seemed to shimmer in the light. I put it on and looked in the nearby mirror. I'm still not used to my new reflection, but I will admit the old me could never carry off that outfit the way I could now. My hair was a mess, though. I went over to the dressing table and went to pick up an ivory hairbrush. "Mistress, you are not allowed; let me," the lady said. "Okay, thanks," I said as I gave her the hairbrush. I sat down, reveling in the feeling of having my hair brushed in such a sensuous way. Remember, Kat, Elysian Fields, hold on to your promise. "I have done, mistress," the girl said. I stood up and looked in the mirror in awe of the image there. No one I had ever seen had ever portrayed such an air of grace and majesty as I now did. A beautiful Arabian princess stared back at me, her arms moving up to her face in time with mine. The blue dress showed every curve, my tiny waist exaggerating them but not so much as to look ridiculous. "You must come now," the girl said. I went to the closet and picked out shoes number twenty; they were deep blue in color with only a slight heel. They fitted perfectly. I followed the girl downstairs and into a large room. Hassan sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his guests. Every single jaw in the place dropped as they took me in. "Is she not a jewel beyond measure?" Hassan said and beckoned me to move over to him. "She is indeed. I wish all my girls were like her," a fat, disgusting man, about fifty, said. "I'm sure you do, Osman. But this is one jewel you will not touch," Hassan said. I walked over to Hassan, and he pointed to a wine jug. "Serve us, please," he said. I picked up the jug and did so. The evening went on with me being just a waitress, and the object of many lewd jokes, judging by the laughter. At the end of it, the others went away, leaving just me and Hassan alone. "Be glad Osman Rahmani did not buy you," Hassan said. "Why?" "He is an evil but powerful man. He was boasting that he had gouged a girl's eye out with a hot iron because she disobeyed him," he said. I shuddered at the thought. Poor girl, my heart goes out to her. "Sit a while, and let us talk," Hassan said. We talked about many things. He outlined his promise that he would not touch me unless I wanted it. I was, however, to serve at his table whenever he wanted. I was also responsible for discipline between the other girls and would be expected to keep them in order. That explained why my 'maid' was so scared. He outlined his family history to me. His family had always lived here, and before his parents died, they had hoped that he would find a wife soon. Oh God, Kat, he means me. Hassan also stated that it was forbidden to talk about my past, only our future. "It is time you went to bed; we have more guests tomorrow." My maid took me upstairs, and my head was in a whirl. How can I escape, and how long before I succumb to Hassan's charm? As each day passed, I saw in my mind's eye my husband slowly changing into HER. I felt bitter and powerless to help. Come on, hubby, fight it, I thought each day as the time drew near when he would become HER forever. I was not allowed near the other girls in normal day-to-day life. I had to deal with a few disputes between girls, but they were only minor matters. A month after my capture, I felt a pit of despair in my stomach. By now, there would be two Elizabeth Bexleys, one my sweet, the other a demoness from hell. I must get out. I must find out my love's fate. The same pattern of serving tables and talks afterwards repeated itself for a couple of months when Hassan came to visit me.This was a first, as he had always called me and had never come to visit. "Come, my Jewel, we have some shopping to do," he said. He took my hand, and we went to his waiting limousine. F+2 months..

Part 14 of 37

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/4915.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'Now do you want to tell me why you keep calling this lady, John?' I said. Cathline outlined everything (missing out the really hot bits I might add). How she thought that Jennifer was doing this to spite them. How she thought it could have something to do with Project 2322 and what else could they expect to happen. 'First things first. I think you should both join me in the pool while I have a think,' I said. 'But we've no costumes with us,' John said. 'That's OK. You can skinny dip if you like.' 'I'm game, if you are,' said Cathline, and she gave me a knowing look. 'I'm not sure,' John said. 'Look here John, or is it Jane, You've nothing I haven't seen hundreds of times and since you cannot corrupt someone who is already 'evil and corrupt'. I don't see that it makes the difference. Come on, live a little. All my servants are gone for the evening so we are completely alone,' I said. 'And besides, you have been eyeing me up since you got here,' I added. 'OK, what have I got to lose?' he said. As Cathline stripped off revealing her comely form (how I had missed that, this past few weeks), John did the same. He really did look a funny sight. Just like dear Kat, but with no tits or pussy. His male organ hung down, looking very lost on his curvy form. 'The sweater didn't do you justice,' I said to John. 'That's your opinion,' he retorted. We swam around for a while until Cathline dunked my head under water in a playful fashion. As I swam up, I allowed myself a quick stroke up her thigh. Her shiver that followed was not because of the cold. I chased after her in the pool, easily out swimming her and began to dunk her in the same way. 'That's no way to treat my wife,' I heard John say as he swam over and tried to dunk me. Being taller and stronger than him, he had no chance. I 'accidentally' brushed my leg over his cock, and looking down at the once limp organ expand, I knew that he was getting turned on. I got out of the pool and ran swiftly to the other side to avoid my water-bound pursuers. Just as I was about to dive in, I heard a yelp from John. 'My God! My God! My God!' he was saying. Cathline pulled him over to one side and shouted, 'Look Liz!' I stared at his chest. His nipples did seem a little larger than before, and I could see the beginnings of breasts beginning to form on his chest. Well timed, Cath, I thought. His hands were clutching at his ever swelling bosom, whilst his face looked down in disbelief. We pulled him out of the pool, noticing that his chest now sprouted two, proud and firm female breasts. His nipples were erect from arousal rather than the cold. Cathline put her hand to one of her husband's 'assets' and stroked a nipple. This was a moment between wife and wife, I guess. His response was 'Hmmmm. That's very nice!' and he reached up and planted a kiss firmly on the teat of her nipple. I coughed, not wanting to be left out in all this. 'That was incredible,' I said. My words fell on deaf ears as the couple continued their passionate session. I had noticed her hand stroking his breasts in the same way as she did mine. I was surprised that he did not react in a stronger way to suddenly growing breasts, but I suspect that my gray powder was the reason behind it. Her hand was stroking his cock and the other, his breasts. He was almost inactive, his face red with pleasure. He was either resting or overwhelmed at the sensations he could now feel. 'Is he all right?' I said a little louder. Again my only answer was increased passion from the couple. He had woken up from his earlier 'trance' and was gently touching her around her clitoris. She began to moan softly as his finger went inside her. I had had enough of this and decided to join in. If you can't beat them, join them. John's face looked startled to feel another pair of hands begin to stroke him. Cathline's response was to say, 'come on in.' I stripped off my costume and saw with some pleasure that John's eyes were wide, ogling my long legs, curved, perfectly muscled body, and full, but let me assure you, very firm breasts. Cathline made room for me, and I was soon made to feel welcome as a hand (I think it was John's!) stroked my thigh. I began to respond, touching him in kind. I couldn't help but note down the finer details of Kat's body, knowing that I must become familiar with every part of it. Cathline was feeling left out and so said 'John, what do you say we pay the hostess back for her hospitality?' 'Agreed,' he panted. With the combined strength of two of them, I had no chance as they rolled me onto my back. Cathline pinned my arms, her breasts, just nudging my face. John's legs pinned mine, spread outwards revealing my pussy to the world. He began to kiss my torso and I became very much aroused. I started to nibble Cathline's tits. I could feel myself getting very wet as John began to touch my clit. I moaned, louder and louder, as I felt his fingers go inside me. I tried to move my hands and legs, but they were held firm as my two lovers continued. 'Let's really thank her,' John said. I saw John begin to move into a more upright position, his new breasts tauntingly out of reach. I could see from the way he was going to move that he wanted to fuck me. Why do men always want to penetrate so quickly? Still, in a few weeks he'd have to learn differently. I was so moist that he slipped inside with almost no fuss and, ohhhh! It had been too long since a man had had me. Cathline was now touching, stroking and caressing John's face, body and breasts, and he was kissing her as well. He began to move inside me, his now fully erect dick rubbing against my clit. Suddenly my hand was free and Cathline's pussy was exposed. I touched its moist warm clit and she almost jumped. 'Ratbag!' She teased, and with her spare hand began to caress my breasts again. John was now thrusting with all his might. His womanly voice moaning 'yes!' ever louder. Once again we were in concert. When this was all over, I would have to arrange for another threesome with someone else! All three of us reached orgasm together, our bodies shaking and flushed with the waves of pleasure. The warm, wet feeling inside me told me that John had just come, and he collapsed on top of me, too spent to move. Cathline and I continued for a while, and I offered to give her a good licking but she was too exhausted. Not enough time in the gym, Cathline. We lay there cuddling, almost asleep for some time. I could hear the soft moans of John as his orgasm continued for some time. Well, I expected that. 'Hmm, I must go and clean myself up,' John said and he got up, looked down and screamed loudly. As planned, his dick had been replaced by a vagina. He was now all woman. The powder had obviously worn off because he broke down into tears, sobbing quietly to himself. Cathline played the concerned wife beautifully, whispering consoling words into his ears. 'I'll go and get dressed,' I said. But first I jumped naked into the pool to wash off all that remained of John. Getting out of the other side of the pool, I ran into the house. I chose my normal attire around the house, tight cycling shorts with a T-shirt (if you've got it, flaunt it) and went back downstairs. John was still upset, but he seemed a little better. 'Listen, I need to work on a cure for this,' I said. 'How about I shout you a holiday where you can get away for a while, come to terms with the changes and all that.' John looked at me with tearful eyes. 'Why did you do it?' 'Do what?' He couldn't have known, could he? 'Make love to me, us. I never thought of you like that and certainly not Cathline.' 'I don't know. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe I'm lonely living up here on my own or maybe I just enjoy girls' company.' 'I have misjudged you Dr Bexley. You have been very kind to us, given everything you have to help us, and we would love to go on holiday,' John said. 'Excellent.' 'But what about passports and all the papers John will need?' Cathline asked. 'Leave that to me. I'll arrange everything. Just provide me with some passport photos.' 'Liz, Thanks again,' Cathline said. The day was getting on and I needed to spend the evening putting the finishing touches to my scheme. 'I'm sorry, but I want to get on this right away.' 'OK, Bye.' They both got dressed and left. Cathline was right.It was funny seeing John try to put on a bra, especially with real breasts this time. I got an email a day or so later. "Hi Lover, "John is still finding it hard living as a woman. He keeps wanting to stand up to pee, and when he forgets, it just rubs it in. He has gone right off sex for the moment, but the month-long Middle East tour you booked for us has gone a long way to cheering him up. I still call him 'him' because inside, he still really is a man and still my husband. "I still can't work out two things. Perhaps you will be able to fill me in later on. "One. How did his dick change if I didn't give him any doses? I assume that you don't have any. Perhaps the effects of the drug are cumulative? "Two. Why did we feel so sexy that day? John simply isn't interested at the moment. Why? Did you spike our drinks, you naughty girl? "He is really looking forward to Egypt at the start and end of the tour, as am I. He also likes the name you 'chose' for him. Jane Norton it is. The passports and papers you got me really are very good and look very genuine. You'll have to tell me how you got them. On second thoughts, I don't really want to know. "See you in a month or so, lover. "Cathline." Two days before I was due to leave, I cast my mind back to that fateful day so long ago. Did he really deserve the treatment I was about to give him? The answer was a firm YES. My stupid-sounding last words to him came back to me: 'You will marry me, you will marry me.' How could I make him live those words? Although I enjoyed being with women, deep down I still preferred men. I could see no way that I could make him heed those words every day of his life. This upset me. Two or more years of planning, countless lives wrecked, and my new lover's destruction well on the way, and this one little thing caused the whole plan to be on very shaky ground indeed. So I did what I usually did when I wanted to think clearly. I pushed myself to the limits of my physical stamina and ability. Through the haze and pain of physical exhaustion, the solution came to me. I could just switch places with Kat. In that way, he would be married to me, but I didn't like this for a couple of reasons. One, I had no intention of remaining Kat forever, and two, there's no punishment in that for him. There had to be another way. To marry someone is to become one with. For HIM to become one with me would be to BECOME me. There was still time. A quick trip to Rhamnus and my schedules should only be a day or so out. The next day, still feeling a little tired, I took the trip to Rhamnus and set about re-doing his dosages, this time with my DNA. It didn't actually take that long because all I had to do was to remove Kat's sequences and replace it with my own. A day later and I was ready to go. The flight over was uneventful, but pleasant. I had first thought of using Dad's new Lear jet, but this way was better. I could slip out of the country either as Kat or one of my other guises and not have to worry about any awkward questions. Now my timing was off by one day, but that was no real hardship. It would just mean I would have to change in one single go, rather than split it over a couple of days. All that time in the gym and the pool would pay dividends now. I had to change before I met my contact. I didn't want to be seen in my natural shape. That would pose too many problems. Especially with Cathline and John hanging around Cairo for a week. The worst would have been to be seen by HIM and the real Kat, but they wouldn't arrive for another day. Plenty of time. It's the bottom of the ninth and still all to play for.. The plane landed and I emerged into brilliant sunshine. Much to my relief, my bag wasn't lost, although all my important stuff was in my hand luggage. A tense moment came at customs when my bag was searched, but the pills aroused little suspicion. A doctor can have medicine with her, can't she? I didn't really want to check in my hotel as me. A tall, auburn-haired lady goes in, a shorter, black-haired one comes out. Far too risky. Besides, my second set of false papers would ensure that everything checked out. A taxi took me to downtown Cairo, and I must admit to being nervous at the things to come. I had to lie low until night in case John and Cathline saw me, and in all the crowds, that was not a difficult task, apart from being one of the tallest women around. When night came and the streets were quiet, I found a secluded spot in which to change. Quickly checking that I had the right pill, I took it. Hoping that it would work on me. Yuck! I could have made a mint-flavored one. I didn't have long to wait, and I sat down waiting for the changes to occur. My whole body felt strange, but it was in the area of my legs that felt the weirdest. Under my jeans, I saw flesh begin to ripple and change as my legs shrank and reformed. Their shape was subtly different from my old legs, but nice enough, I suppose. My arms were the next to go, and they changed shape in a similar way to my legs. Kat's hands were a little different from mine, but still, all was going to plan. My head felt very woozy, and I had to shut my eyes. My long auburn hair pulled away from my shoulders and turned raven black. I could feel something going on in my face. So far, the change had been painless. I checked my watch hanging loosely around my new wrist. Just over five minutes gone... Looking down at my breasts, I saw them begin to change shape. Kat's may be a little larger than mine, I guess, but, from what I had seen of John's, they were very nice. The drug forced me to sleep for a few minutes as my body shape and hips reformed into those of Kat's. When I awoke, I got out my small makeup mirror. Fucking Amazing. Kat's green eyes and feline-like features looked back at me. Checking my watch, and fastening it up tight again, showed that it had taken 20 minutes for me to turn into Kat. 'Hello, Dear Kat,' I said in my new voice. The world looked different from three inches smaller, but I hoped I'd get used to it. As I walked away and hailed a cab, a sudden wave of tiredness hit me. I would need my rest tonight. I had room 117 in the Cairo Holiday Inn. I would have liked the Luxor or Hilton, but these were taken by my stooges. Anyway, the room was nice enough for a day or so. I crashed out and didn't wake until 11 am the next morning. The next day was the 20th of July. Kat and HIM would be married that day. The thought of it made me bitter, but my new reflection in the mirror gave me comfort. Everything was going as planned. A knock at the door, and a swarthy cop walked in. This was to be my contact. 'Are you Nemesis?' he asked in accented English. 'I am,' I said. 'What is your codeword?' 'Tyche, and yours?' I said. 'Hermes,' came the reply. 'Excellent, tell me of the preparations here.' 'The man with a girl who looks like you will be taken tonight. He will be drugged with the drug you sent us and then returned one day later,' he said slowly. 'And the girl with him? Jane Norton, now Stephens?' I asked. 'She will be taken when she next leaves her hotel. This is to be done after the man is returned. She is to be made to take the pill which you will give me,' the cop said, waiting for me to do so. I reached into my bag and got out the required pill and gave it to him. 'Please continue.' 'She is then to be sold to the nearest Harem, and we can keep whatever she brings at the auction.' 'And their hotel room?' I asked. 'The recording devices are in place, Mistress Nemesis,' he replied. 'Excellent. Do you remember your other instructions?' 'Yes, a lady, whose photo you are to provide, is also to be taken and sold to another Harem in Libya. Again, we can keep whatever she raises. You have the photo?' Again, I reached into my bag. Goodbye, Cathline. I'm sorry it had to end this way, but life's a bitch. Serves you right for trying to use me. I gave him the photo. 'And the lady with her, who also looks like me?' 'She will be given false leads on this lady's location until she can return home when you indicate,' the cop said. That sorts John out as well. I just hope he survives the flight back. 'You realize the penalty for failure?' I asked. 'Yes, mistress. We will not fail. We of the guild have never failed.' And with that, he left. I lay in bed, trying out my new body. Although I missed my proper body, this one had its compensations. The breasts were a little larger, which I enjoyed, and her green eyes were very sexy. As I stimulated my new cunt, I marveled at the new set of sensations that came with this new body. Kat's orgasms felt different from mine, less frantic, but just as intense. The next day, a different man, this time a bellboy, was at my door. 'Nemesis?' he said. We exchanged codewords as before. 'The man was taken and drugged last night and will be kept for another 15 hours. Here are the parcels you asked for.' 'Thank you. You remember what to do?' 'Yes, I will tell the police that I saw you put a parcel through a door. I will do this when you tell me.' 'What about the lady we sold to a Harem in Libya?' 'That was performed without a hitch. She made nearly three hundred thousand dollars. The Harem she was sold into was a cruel one. Her companion has been led to believe she is now in Syria, and then, after about three weeks, he will be led back to America.' 'Perfect, That will be all.' The parcels contained photos of the wedding and how Kat now had her hair. Thankfully, my version was very similar and could easily be re-styled. The bugs in their room would ensure I would be kept updated on all the goings-on before I could make the switch. Some time later and it was time for me to move. I put on a long flowing brown skirt (it would have been knee-length on the real me, but never mind).A white blouse came next (I think I'll keep her breasts, I thought). Taking the parcel with me, I went to the Luxor Hotel. The room was easy to find, and the parcel was easy to put through the door. I could hear nothing from inside, but I knew from the bugs that the kidnap had gone well. Now all I had to do was wait back at my hotel. I felt euphoric at the recording of the conversation held between Kat and HIM. It was working. Everything was working just as I planned. His fevers, the genetic changes. His despair at his situation was just icing on the cake. Kat, to give her credit, was trying to help, but I'm afraid there was nothing she could do to combat my brilliance. I was glad I was getting rid of Kat, she's very resourceful but all her deductions would, alas, come too late. Before I made the swap, I checked once more that everything was OK. I re-read my list again to ensure that I hadn't missed anything. James/Jane: Safely locked away. He cannot possibly link me with these events. Cathline: In A Harem by now. With no chance of escape. My American Friends: All Kitties. The surviving ones, if any, only know me by the name Deianeira. There is no chance of the calls being traced. Vickie Turner: She knows about all the projects at the lab. She could be a danger, but the device my 'friends' planted in the power regulators and halon tanks at the lab will sort her out. A nice clean blast, using Fuel Air Explosives, will produce a small tactical nuke size boom. Be careful, Vickie, I'm watching. John: Scooting around the Middle East, trying to find Cathline. I don't envy him trying to get this done in a culture where women are looked on as second rate. See 'Things to do later' list. The Guild: Knows me only as Nemesis and in Kat form. Even I couldn't stand up against the guild. So they will remain human. In any case, for them, reputation is everything and they would rather die than talk. Kat: About to be altered and sold into slavery in about 10 minutes. I think she will set a new record price when she is sold. This will keep the guild more than happy. HIM: Slowly but surely turning into me. Things to do: John - Make sure 'John' is on the plane when HE thinks I am. - Let him get hold of a certain tape recording. - Ensure 'John' Collects Kat's luggage. HIM - I will make sure he visits my friendly Tattooist. This will accomplish three things: 1. Humiliation for him. 2. Identification purposes for when I get my body back. 3. Prevents him using the equipment at Rhamnus, if he finds out about it. - If he's as clever as I thought, then he will suss me out. I can then put my proposal to him. Expect him to do anything to try and get out of it. - When he is asleep, program in fail-safe codes to ensure his compliance and my safety. - Make sure he is on the verge of despair, and leave him plenty of time to be alone. This will speed up the process and make him blame himself for his lack of self-control. Me - Leave HIM on various pretexts. Let one be an argument. - Arrange 'to do' list when away from him. - Switch with the real Kat. - Ensure I change face and identity before leaving Egypt. - Make Cassette recording of my final conversation to ensure HIS compliance. - Switch last pill with a fixer pill. - Get out some more gray powder. - Keep up to date on all the above. - Remember to give HIM airline tickets and passport in the name of Dr Elizabeth Bexley. - When I return, I may have to disappear for a while. I like my house, but I mustn't return there as me if it's not safe to do so. Maybe I'll become a supermodel and buy it back in a year or so. New Zealand sounds nice in the meantime. An island would be nicer though. I thought that was all. From now on I would have to roll with the punches. The phone rang. I answered, 'Hello?' 'Hello, Nemesis. This is Hermes. We have the Kat you asked for. She has been given the drug and she is going to be sold tomorrow. I will leave her clothes and jewelry at the reception desk. All other plans are in place.' 'Excellent. Keep her safe, and don't be surprised if she looks different in the light of day.' That was it all done. I took Kat's clothes from reception and went back upstairs. I must admit to having a little cry when I saw Kat's wedding ring on my finger. 'Come on Liz, no time for sentimentality,' I said softly. I put on Kat's other clothes and left the hotel. I was silent in the cab to the Luxor hotel. The taxi driver tried to talk to me in broken English, but I was having none of it. He pulled up outside the Luxor hotel and I gave him a generous tip. I cautiously knocked on the door. No reply. I took Kat's room key and went inside. He was laying on the floor, obviously unconscious. He looked the same as I remembered him, maybe a little more muscular, but that would help my cause. His legs were certainly not the same as I remembered them, as they were long, shapely and very feminine. I looked down at my 'Kat' legs and then at his. I was a little jealous. He slowly stirred and his eyes opened. 'What did you do? You took one, didn't you?' I said, looking very concerned. 'No, two,' and HE explained his (flawed) reasoning to me. 'You stupid idiot!' I shrieked, 'Can't you see the narcotic is adjusting your thought patterns and probably your math to allow it to fool you into speeding up the transformation? That's how Elizabeth was to stop you from dying, by making the drug seduce you into giving your body enough time to rest by making you take a multiple dose.' 'What have I done?' He started to sob. 'How long?' 'About five hours.' 'Can I stay and watch?' I asked with a curious look. 'I've always wanted to see a body change.' 'You are sick!' was his bitter reply. 'No, just curious,' I said with a mischievous grin. At that moment, he started to convulse and he lost consciousness again. Interesting how the body forces sleep to preserve energy. Hang on a second, I thought, I can see ripples under his body. Yes, his body is changing. The sound of bones rearranging was horrible (did I sound like that when I got Kat's body?). His muscular torso was now changing, becoming tauter as his muscles and flesh reshaped to fit his new bone structure. I watched, fascinated, as curves formed, as did my firm, flat stomach. I noticed that his body was taking on the same shape as I had when I donated the DNA. Could be useful for an eternal youth drug maybe? His body now very much resembled my old one, but my hand pressed to his chest showed that his internal organs were still changing. This meant that he should be out for a while. I took the opportunity to listen to the previous conversations between HIM and Kat that I had missed. It sounded like I had got rid of Kat just in time. Another day or so and she may have rumbled me, smart girl. He awoke sometime later. 'Which bit?' He managed to say. 'That was amazing! I have never seen anything like it,' I said. I recalled some lines from a song I heard a long time ago. 'You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs. The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear, who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity, sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity. 'You who I directed with a lover's will, you who I let hypnotize the lens. You who I let bathe in the spotlight's glare. You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask, just like a greasepaint mask. 'But now I'm your snake in the grass, the ghost of film reels past. I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun, it's just begun...'

Part 10 of 37

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/4911.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'You may not recall the moment that you asked me But your invitation was clear. You'll pretend you've never met me, but It's far too late now I'm here. Cause I'm the one who knows what scares you I'm the one who loves you best I'm the thirteenth at the table I'm the Uninvited Guest I'm the Banquo at your banquet, I'm the cuckoo in your nest I'm your fifteen stone first-footer I'm the uninvited guest I was there when you said insincere "I love you's" to a woman who wasn't your wife. And I fronted you the money that you ran away and blew on the biggest regret of your life. Cause I'm the one who knows what scares you I'm the one who loves you best I'm the thirteenth at the table I'm the Uninvited Guest I'm the Banquo at your banquet, I'm the cuckoo in your nest I'm your new years resolution I'm the uninvited guest I'm the face you hoped you'd never see but always knew you would. I'm the one thing you knew you shouldn't do but did because you could. I'm the evil in your bloodstream. I'm the rash upon your skin. And you made a big mistake alright the day you let me in. And you can fly to the other side of the world. You know you'll only find. I've reserved the seat behind you. We can talk about old times...' As the song ended Kat sat bolt upright and set the CD to repeat, after several more plays Kat saw it. What had just been an awful hunch was now reality. "My God what have we done!" Kat said out loud, her voice trembling with fear. Kat reached into her purse and took out a phone number and dialed it. After the call Kat was more sure than ever but before she could explore it further there was a knock at the door. "Hey, turn that down. You're getting obsessed by that song," Matthew said, walking into the room. "Listen!" And Kat played the song once more. "So?" Matthew queried. "Don't you see it? It's so obvious now. Sure it's brilliant, her masterstroke," Kat exclaimed. "I'm a little stupid today, explain it," Matthew asked. "Get Robert and Cathline in here," Kat asked. "What about Steph?" Matthew said. "For fuck's sake, don't get Stephanie. Whatever you do, don't talk to her," Kat said sternly. "Why?" "Just get the rest and make sure Stephanie is out of the way," Kat said. "If you say so," Matthew said and walked out. "Stephanie, would you mind going to check to see how Liz got ashore. Maybe she's brought friends along. We're going to finish up here and ensure it's OK," Matthew said. "OK, mind if I take Kitty Liz?" Stephanie said. "Not at all, you're the only one she seems to like anyway," Matthew said. "Be back in an hour or so," Stephanie said and walked off. Matthew went down into the bunker to see a tearful Robert and grim looking Cathline, who was consoling Robert. "Fixed as well?" Matthew asked. "Yes," said a tearful Robert. "The results of the test are very strange. The test confirms that the fixer has indeed been given to Robert. However, the fixer I'm familiar with just inhibits any future dose of the drug. This version seems to actively fight it. It makes it much, much more effective. What'd you want anyway?" Cathline said. "Kat's gone all weird on me. She wants all of us to meet her in the entertainment room right away," Matthew said. "I'll get Stephanie," Cathline said. "No, she was most insistent that Stephanie was NOT invited. I've just sent her off to look see if Liz has brought any friends with her," Matthew said. "Let's go and see what she wants," Robert said, and they walked out of the bunker. "Excellent. I take it Stephanie is out of the way," Kat said. "She'll be gone a couple of hours, now what the hell is this all about?" Matthew demanded. "Shut the door and listen to this," Kat said and played the song again. "I don't get it," Cathline said. "Let me explain," And Kat skipped the appropriate point in the song. "I was there when you said insincere 'I love you's' to a woman who wasn't your wife. And I fronted you the money that you ran away and blew on the biggest regret of your life." "So?" Matthew demanded. "Listen. 'I was there when you said insincere 'I love you's' to a woman who wasn't your wife.' That's clearly John. Liz was involved in his seduction by employing Jennifer Porter." "I'll give you that, Mind you it could have been me," Cathline said. "And now. 'And I fronted you the money that you ran away and blew on the biggest regret of your life.' That's Liz again. She fronted Cathline the money to go to Egypt which must rank as Cathline's biggest regret," Kat explained. "Too right," Cathline agreed. "Are you saying that Elizabeth is this 'uninvited guest' in the song?" Matthew said, puzzled. "Yes, but it goes on. Listen to this bit." Kat forwarded the CD to the next part. "'I'm your new years resolution I'm the uninvited guest. I'm the face you hoped you'd never see but always knew you would. I'm the one thing you knew you shouldn't do but did because you could. I'm the evil in your bloodstream I'm the rash upon your skin And you made a big mistake alright the day you let me in,'" Kat paused the song with a deft, triumphant flick of the remote. "That fits, we always knew we would meet Liz again," Robert said. "Since Liz's blood is in my veins and she got me tattooed, then I guess that last bit must be me," Matthew said sadly. "Where's this leading?" Cathline asked. "I didn't put this CD on. It was in the player already, this must mean that Liz put it there. I think she used this song to gloat over us and as to give her some ideas for her plans." "That sounds just like Liz. Retreat here and have a good laugh over our efforts. Still, we won in the end," Cathline said. "No, we haven't. Liz is still out there. I think that Liz is Stephanie Lane," Kat said, as though she were Miss Marple. "WHAT!" Cathline exclaimed. Matthew almost shouted in complete surprise "No way. If it wasn't for her we would have been nowhere." "Before you call in the shrinks, listen to me. Only one other person was missing from the lab when it exploded, Stephanie Lane. Furthermore, she was the one who SUGGESTED we meet at the lab. Monica Abbey had left and was too obvious. Liz is subtle, not overt in planning. I now believe Robert when he says that Monica was just being Monica and refused to give a passcode," Kat said. "Thank you. I haven't told anyone this for fear of reprisals. But I called Monica the night the lab blew up. She gave me the correct passcode," Robert interrupted. "You did what, of all the..." Cathline started. "If you will allow me to continue. Robert's confession here proves my point. Further clues are in the song 'I'm your new years resolution I'm the uninvited guest.' Who else was there when we made our new Year's resolution and who's the uninvited guest?" Kat said. "Stephanie Lane was there. But wait a sec, she always gave the correct passcode," Cathline said. "Which means she must have replaced Stephanie before we even met up again. I had another look at all those statues in the hall. Do you know what they have in common?" Kat said smugly. "Greek Mythology?" Cathline answered. "Yes, I think they are all codenames Liz has used. We know about one name she used 'Deianeira.' I remembered who she was. She dipped Hercules's shirt into some poison and killed him. Liz could easily see herself as Nemesis, and Rachel Martin has been compared to Helen of Troy. The only one that didn't fit was Pandora, and that, ladies and transformed ladies, was Stephanie Lane's passcode," Kat said triumphantly. "Well, I'll be," Robert started. "And that's not all. In order to try and prove my theory further, I tried to find something simple that the 'Hell Bitch' could easily miss. Cathline, how did Liz take her coffee?" "Umm, black without, I think," Cathline answered. "And Stephanie Lane takes her coffee?" "Umm, the same?" Robert asked. "So they share the same taste in coffee," Cathline said. "I've phoned Stephanie's work. They were curious as to why I wanted to know how she took her coffee. I told them I was doing some market research for various companies."They then told me Stephanie Lane liked her coffee white with a single sugar. However, recently she's been having it black without. I also asked them if Stephanie Lane had missed any internal flights recently and was she unhappy with the service. They answered that the only internal flight Stephanie had caught was on time, and she flew out after a morning meeting. If you remember, Stephanie stated that she had missed a flight because of a meeting and had to catch a later one. In other words, she lied about when she flew out to meet us. She would have had ample time to set off the explosives at the lab and wreck our cars," Kat said. "Kat, this all sounds very convincing. You're telling us that you worked all this out just now, from this one song," Cathline said skeptically. "No, I'd been suspicious for some time. It seemed so right that Liz was Monica, but somehow it didn't FEEL right. As I've said before, it was TOO obvious. Liz is too good to make it that clear. I've been working things out bit by bit, afraid to say anything in case it alerted Stephanie. It didn't all click into place until I heard this part of the song: 'And you can fly to the other side of the world You know you'll only find I've reserved the seat behind you We can talk about old times...' Who sat behind Matthew on the flight over? Easy, Cathline and Stephanie," Kat announced. "Still sounds suspicious to me," Cathline said. "I think it makes perfect sense. As Stephanie, she could keep an eye on us and steer us in whatever direction she wanted. As our greatest resource, she could bring about our downfall," Kat said. "This is all circumstantial evidence. It fits, but only because you've made it fit," Robert said. "I've thought of that. What do you say we lure Stephanie to the bunker, tie her up, and then confront her as though she were Liz? Make out that we know all about it and try to get her to admit it. If she's not Liz, then fair enough, I'm wrong. Otherwise, we have her," Kat said. "Sounds good to me," Matthew said. "It's the only way to be sure!" Robert said. "Right, Mat, you go get Stephanie and tell her Cathline's managed to activate the DNA system and we need her in the bunker. The rest of us will lay in wait," Kat directed. It took Matthew an hour to find Stephanie. She was sitting on a rock looking out to sea. "Hi, Steph," Matthew said. "Hi, what's happening?" "I've been asked to tell you that Cathline has managed to activate the DNA system. She wants you to come and help." Stephanie gave a surprised look. "Really? I thought the security systems were too good." "Apparently not. Race you back," Matthew said and sprinted off. They arrived, breathless, at the bunker. Matthew had ensured that Stephanie won and went down the bunker first. With a shriek, the rest of the group fell upon Stephanie. Overpowered by so many, she had no chance. They bound her hand and foot to a chair near the console. Stephanie was screaming, "What the fuck are you doing?" but soon stopped when Kat said, "Hello 'Hell Bitch', nice to meet you at last." "What the fuck are you talking about? Dr. Bexley's gone," Stephanie screamed. "I must say, it was a very, very clever move switching with Stephanie Lane," Kat said. "I'm Stephanie Lane. Kat, what are you playing at? Let me go," Stephanie said. "Listen, 'hell bitch', we know all about it. The statues in the hall, how you used a song to base some of your plans on, and how you wanted us to believe that we had turned you into a cat. Don't fuck with me, I'm not in the mood," Kat snarled. An evil smile spread across Stephanie's face. "What a clever little kitty Kat you are. I was right not to underestimate you."

Part 33 of 37

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/4937.txt

Darkside

Birth Of Nemesis

'Let him see the other side of the fence, make him understand how a woman feels. From the inside,' I said with a glint of devilment in my eyes. 'Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, that is the most horrible thing I've ever heard,' Cathline said, but her blue eyes twinkled with mischief. 'I think everything is in place. It's about time we had a human test, don't you think?' she added. 'I think so. But I'll agree on one condition only.' 'That being?' 'He only stays like it for two or three months.' 'Why? We could "fix" him. Really teach him a lesson,' I countered. 'No, I still love him and don't want to lose him forever,' she said. 'Fine, who do you want him to be? I'm sure we can get samples from anywhere,' I asked. 'What about being Jennifer for a while?' She said. 'Perfect. But I have one other condition. You must keep a diary of everything that happens so we can be sure everything has worked out all right,' I said. 'Agreed. You have Jennifer's DNA already?' 'Yes, As you know, all my employees had to give an AIDS test,' I said. 'Now we are both agreed, do you want to work out the details yourself, let me do it, or let us both plan?' I asked. 'You obviously have a wicked streak and I want to have a say, so let's meet up after work. Say about eight?' Cathline said. 'Eight it is, at my place,' I said. I had invested some of my money in a mansion, just for me. It had all the usual things associated with such a place, but it was the gym, pool, and sauna that made it special. It also had a small lab which would do any research place proud. The best thing about it, however, was its location, remote but on a hillside overlooking a beautiful wooded valley. I had held several parties for my staff there, and the servants I employed there always did a fine job. Thinking about it, John, Cathline's husband, didn't seem to like me for some reason. Oh well, he would soon have even less to like me for. 'See you later and get back to work,' I grinned. Stage 1 was now underway. Cathline came round at eight exactly, wearing what I would call a revealing outfit. Although she was somewhat shorter than me, at five-seven, her body was well-proportioned. She looked a bit like my ex-fiancee's wife-to-be. She didn't seem to have Kat's panther-like movements, but otherwise, she was a close match. Anyway, Cathline was no bitch. She was one of us. 'Who are you dating after you have seen me?' I asked. She looked down at her short lycra skirt and halter top and said, 'No-one, but the first rule of business is to dress to impress,' she said. 'I'm impressed. Now down to work,' I said. 'I've been thinking about our plan,' she said. 'Yes?' 'I don't really want him to be Jennifer anymore,' she said. My heart began to sink. 'Please don't get cold feet.' 'No, I want him to be someone I don't know. If I saw him as her, it would rub in what he did to me, for destroying my trust in him,' she said bitterly. 'Do you want me to handle that part? I know of a few ways to get DNA without the subject knowing. It would also have to be someone not local, as that would raise too many questions,' I asked. This was getting better all the time. I had just the person in mind - Kat! I would need some of her DNA for my plan anyway. This way, I could have an exact test in a controlled environment. It shouldn't take very long to get it anyway. But I won't tell Cathline who or why I choose her. 'Seems logical,' she said. Cathline moved closer to me, her legs occasionally touching mine. Was this a come-on? 'So I can choose?' I asked. 'Yep,' She agreed. 'Now I think that a normal human body will die if subjected to too much change, too quickly,' I said. 'It must be given time to recover.' 'You're the doc,' Cathline said. Her hand momentarily touched my knee. What next? 'I think a day between changes should be enough, and maybe spread the doses over 10 days,' I added. 'How will the doses be administered?' Cathline asked. This time her hand stayed on my knee. Should I brush it away? 'The injection method is fine in a laboratory, but we could use the new powdered form we have been experimenting with. This means you can give it to him any time and any how you like,' I said. The hand was resting lightly on my thigh now! 'Once he starts to change, won't he be suspicious of me?' She asked. I had expected this question and again I mentally checked off another part of my plan. Her hand was still there. Did I detect a small stroke just then??? Did I want to stop this?? 'Maybe I can tailor that narcotic you were working on before I joined. Make him lust after the thing you first put it in. I don't know, put it in his coffee or something. Then he will want coffee to relieve his cravings. You can then slip it into his coffee whenever you like,' I told her. 'Speaking of lust,' Cathline said. Before I had a chance to answer, she had pressed her moist lips onto mine, and to my surprise, I responded. I wouldn't regard myself as a lesbian or even a little bi, but something in her kiss lit my fire. Her hand stroked my leg, moving ever closer to my fanny. The sensations were unique. Part of me wanted to push her away, the other *have* her. She was supposed to be the very 'proper' Cathline, but the hands reaching up to unbutton my blouse were not doing the 'proper' thing at all. Before I could do much else, a skillful hand had undone my bra and was stroking my smooth, firm breasts. I felt flushed as my arousal grew. I began to respond in kind, stroking her firm bosom over her halter top. Her nipples grew as she became aroused, and from the fire that I felt inside, I knew that mine had just done the same. The lust began to grow, and before I knew or could control it, I had removed her skimpy top, exposing her heaving chest. 'Wait...' I panted. 'What? You don't like this?' she asked. 'YES, but we don't want to be disturbed, do we?' I said. Still not really believing what I was doing/about to do, I phoned the butler and told him dinner would be late, and that Cathline and I were not to be disturbed under *any* circumstances. 'Now where were we?' Cathline said seductively. 'About here,' I said as I held her close. Our breasts heaving together as we resumed our passionate embrace. 'Lay down,' she said, and I did so. Her tongue was caressing my body. It fondled my earlobes, then my neck, and finally my by now very erect nipples. I began to moan, 'Yes, yes.' Electricity shot through me as her hand *finally*, but all too briefly, touched my pussy. I groped for the zip that held her skirt on and freed her of that article of clothing as she began to stroke my long, shapely legs again. 'About time I released you,' she crooned as my skirt was also removed. She stroked the curve of my waist, and I did the same, feeling her smooth, unblemished skin. How different this was from making love to a man! So unhurried, so understanding, so gentle and so ummmmm. 'How about a 69?' she asked. By this time, a forest fire of passion and pleasure was burning within me, and I agreed instantly. We swapped sides to form the classic shape, and although I had done this with *him*, this was unique and special. I was on top, looking down at her moist, open and aroused fanny. I went to lick her hot, open and moist pussy, but she said 'Not yet, lover.' She reached up, grasping the cheeks of my ass, and began to smother my pussy with kisses. I moaned even louder and began to sweat. As her hands stroked my thighs and her tongue very delicately began to caress the lips of my cunt, I wondered why I hadn't done this sooner. As I reached orgasm, I heard her pant, 'Now, lover.' I bent down, laying flat over her, and began to caress her pussy too. She too began to moan louder, and soon we were in concert. The rhythm of our bodies, tongues and hands, adding the baseline to our sexual tune. I tasted her for the first time, her hot musk smell arousing me more than I had been for a long time. Hmm, women tasted so different. An exploratory caress with my tongue sent us both into overdrive. As I became more experienced, our pleasure grew. This went on seemingly for hours. Each of us taking delight in each other's bodies and sensations.We both came together, something that had happened only a few times when I was with a man. As our volcanic pleasure died down and turned into a warm, satisfied glow, I really began to regret not doing this earlier. As we lay beside each other, her hand still resting on my breast, my hand gently stroking her hip, she said, 'I had no idea...' 'Neither did I. I guess we both needed each other.' It was now late and I knew we still had a lot of ground to cover. 'We have to get on, alas,' I said as I got up to get dressed. Cathline, her fun for the moment gone, did the same. 'Shame,' she grinned. 'My house has plenty of space, you could always spend the night,' I told her. Had I really just invited another woman to sleep with me? I guess I had, and I certainly had no regrets. 'We only need one room, but not tonight. What would people say if they knew I was sleeping with the boss?' Cathline said, grinning again. 'When do you want the package delivered?' I asked. 'I should be able to get the DNA within a few days. Say, make the doses during the following week,' I said, a bit disappointed. 'Fine, whatever you can do,' the lovely Cathline said. 'Let's call it a night,' I said. 'Sure you won't stay?' I asked. 'Hmm, very tempting, but no. I'll see you tomorrow.' With that, Cathline left. My mind was in a whirl. Was I really falling for this woman, or was she just some unforeseen side effect? I knew that I must keep the reason why her husband cheated on her a secret, otherwise all would be lost. I admit to feeling a little guilty for using her like that, especially as she wasn't as prim and proper as she wanted people to believe. Maybe one of the reasons she wanted this type of revenge was so that she could have her husband how she really liked them, a woman. Before I went to bed, I made another call to my 'friends'. 'This is Deianeira. Status report on Jane Norton,' I asked. 'The wedding is in exactly two months.' Damn, I thought. 'Where is the honeymoon?' I asked. 'They are booked into the Luxor hotel in Cairo for three weeks right after the wedding,' the voice said. 'OK. Locate the most skilled tattoo artist in Cairo and tell him to await further instructions in around nine weeks and tell him to practice his Hydra's. Also, find me the meeting places for the local slave-trade and contact names for some 'friends' in Egypt.' 'Done. Anything else?' 'Yes, I want you to obtain a sample of Jane Norton's hair or blood. I think you should be able to persuade her doctor to let you have a sample. Say that you are AIDS testing or something. When you have done that, leave it in the usual place. I will call back in three days.' With that done, I went to bed, my mind buzzing. Only two months to go. So much to do, but first we must attend to our friends Cathline and John Richards. The next day at work, I hardly saw Cathline. I wanted to keep up the pretence of loving her so that she would not get scared off, and it would also allow me to adapt my plans to hers as they evolved. What was the saying? 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer'. The next day, I went to the pick-up place, a small cave around 100 miles south of the lab. A sample of hair was in a polythene bag. A cursory inspection showed a few live hair follicles still attached to the hair. Perfect. I was sitting alone in the canteen (after all, who wants to sit next to the boss?) when Cathline sat next to me. 'Hi,' she said. 'Hi, I've got the package if you still want it,' I said. 'Yes, I still want it. John is so apologetic, but I think he enjoyed cheating on me really,' she said. 'I should have the refined version of it ready in about a week,' I mentioned. 'Look, I've told John I'm going away for a few days to think. I would like to spend them with you.' 'Why not? We'll need privacy. I'll see you tonight,' and I gave her foot an 'accidental' brush with mine. That night, we didn't do much talking. Lots of doing, but not much talking. Although it was good, there was something missing. Maybe it was surprise. As we lay cuddling in my bed, I asked her a $64,000 question. 'Do you want your husband to be a woman for a while so that you can enjoy her instead of me?' 'Whatever makes you say that?' Was that a guilty look? 'Just a thought.' 'I'll admit that I will try it on when he's your mystery girl, but that's not my main reason.' 'Sure?' 'Positive,' and she gave my nipple a little tweak. This prompted a response from me, and soon we were at it again. This time much more frenzied but still very sensual. Why couldn't men be this sensitive? Morning came, and I made my way to work, while Cathline worked from my home. I thought back to my encounters with Cathline. Why did she seduce me so? Why so keen when she had always seemed to have the perfect marriage? I reflected back again over the events of the past couple of days. Maybe she was a little too eager to have her husband transformed. Why was this? In searching for this answer, my mind went back to THAT day, THAT hour, THAT second. Further back I went until I saw the same pattern forming. HIM being too willing to go along with my schemes and fantasies and then being hit with refusal. Cathline was playing me for a puppet, just as he had done. These thoughts began to blot out all others. Liz...CONCENTRATE! Tears, mood swings, why was I getting so upset? I can't let Cathline know I'm onto her. A day or so later, the answer came, just in the nick of time. I had thought she was different, but I could see the trap coming this time. She was just using me so that she could get what she wanted. That was it! I saw her plan instantly...Seduce me so she can turn her husband into a woman for a while. See how he likes it, drop me and go running off back to him. I would not let that happen. I began to draw up a counter to this. It was just a small diversion in the scheme of things, but it would serve as another test I wanted to perform. It would also tidy up some possible loose ends and act as additional insurance should the need arise. The sample of Kat's DNA was just right, and I made three copies of it. One for John, one for HIM, and one for me. I had no desire to undergo the kind of traumatic change that HE would have to undergo, and so I got my team to design a fast, painless version (I didn't tell them what it was really for, just that if we were to produce this stuff commercially, it should be painless). Once again, my teams came up trumps. They did everything I asked of them and more. I had realized from the early days of my plan that I would have to change places with Kat at some point in time and that the only way to do that was to become her double. This meant that I had to store copies of my own DNA somewhere safe. I also needed a backup for the equipment at the lab, and so some months previously, I had purchased a small unit just outside of town. It resembled a small warehouse and had little security. Anonymity was the best security this place could have. In any case, the DNA altering traps I had set inside should prevent unauthorized tampering. The only other security measure required me to show my torso to an image recognition system before I could use the system. I called this place 'Rhamnus' after the place where Nemesis sought sanctuary. It was at 'Rhamnus' that I spliced the final versions of the drugs I was going to use. Let me see... 10 Kat Pills for HIM, with the new intelligent narcotic built in. Plus some other concoctions. 10 Doses of Kat Powder for John with the old Narcotic (but in smaller doses than those for HIM). 1 Painless presto-changeo version for me. 1 Painless back to me version. How could I have forgotten. I now had to tailor the real Kat's final form and add some fixer to make really sure. I sat down at the terminal and thought. I would tell HIM that I could not identify Kat after her change, but I had to know what she will look like in order that I can recognize her if the need arises. A few hours in front of the GUI DNA interface, and all was complete. I pitied her in a way, so she got a painless dose too. I hoped she liked her new body... I used the interface to design a few new faces for me, if I should need them. I now reckoned I could reduce the time it takes to change faces down to 20 seconds, and make it painless too. After this, I guessed I'd be the first shapeshifter in the world. However, all this depended on how well John did. It may seem forward to produce all this first before the test, but time really was short, and I KNEW this would work. I came back from Rhamnus a few days later. To my chagrin, I had missed being with Cathline, but this had to come first. I met Cathline around my house after about a week. Why did she have to dress so revealingly in public? I didn't want the news of our affair to get out. 'All Done,' I said and passed her John's 'Kat' Doses. 'This will really work?' she asked as she passed me a sample of John's hair. 'Don't lose it.' 'In three months, he will be back to how he should be,' I said. 'Sure this will work?' Cathline asked. 'Yep. All set, apart from a couple of things.' 'Which are?' Cathline asked. 'You MUST keep a record and E-mail me every day. The detail doesn't have to be too explicit, as I don't want to get too jealous, but I must know if the drug is working OK. Also, when the change is complete, he/she will need some new papers in order to get around, credit cards, passports, drivers license, etc.''This is only for a couple of months,' Cathline confirmed. 'Yes, but you may want to go away. I may just be able to shout you a holiday as a thank you.' 'Wow! You sure?' 'Me? Short of money? Not likely. I guess you want the papers now, so that you can see what your husband will look like?' 'Yes, please, hand them over.' I handed over the papers, marveling at the work my 'friends' had managed to achieve. All the documents were identical to the real thing. 'Jane Norton, huh?' 'Yep. Cute, isn't she?' 'We look very much alike. Was that intentional?' Cathline observed. 'Kind of. I thought you will be able to share clothes rather than have to buy new outfits for her.' 'Good idea! No, Jane Norton will do just fine. I'll keep in touch when I can, but I'll tell you now that I have to be off work until this is done.' 'Fine. You're fired,' I said. 'What!!' 'Don't worry, I'll take you back on as my deputy once all this is over, but I need to be able to distance myself from this. I hope you understand.' 'Fine. See you in a couple of months, lover,' she said and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I went back into the house very satisfied. Laying down on my sofa, looking at the sun going down over my well-kept grounds, I made a call from my special phone. 'This is Deianeira. Status report.' 'Everything is in place. The wedding takes place on the 20th of July. The honeymoon destination is confirmed as Cairo.' 'And the tattoo artist?' 'Paid and waiting for further instructions.' 'What about the other packages?' 'EVERYTHING is in place,' the voice sounded a little annoyed. 'Flights booked for all involved?' 'EVERYTHING is in place,' the voice sounded even more annoyed. 'Oh, and just one more thing,' I outlined an additional instruction. 'Are you sure you want that done? It will cost half a million, cash.' 'Yes,' I answered. 'Consider it done, Deianeira.' 'Thank you, your payment will be in the usual place in four weeks. That will be all for now.' 'Pleasure doing business, Deianeira,' and my 'friend' hung up. My 'friends' were going to get a shock when they tried to hand out the money. I had impregnated the money with my DNA-altering drug. A couple of hours after it was dished out, there would be a few more cats in the world (the feline kind). The money would dissolve soon after. I do so hate loose ends. All the pawns were now in place. It would soon be time for the queen to move. I made another call. 'Hi, Terri. This is Liz. Is Vickie there?' 'Hold on, I'll get her,' my secretary said. 'Vickie, listen, I'm going on a sabbatical for about four months. Can you hold the fort while I'm away?' 'Bit sudden, isn't it?' Vickie replied. 'I know it's short notice, but I really NEED the time off. Unless I get a long break, I'll burn up. In any case, I know you can cope.' 'I'll try,' Vickie said. 'Terri. I authorize Vickie Turner to be my deputy in all aspects of my work until my return. I'll confirm that in writing as well. Bye,' I said. 'OK, have a good one,' Terri said. I checked my mail every day for weeks until then the message 'Incoming E-Mail' appeared on my screen. A cursory check showed it to be from some spam company offering a get-rich-quick scheme, but the UU-encoded picture it contained soon deposited an encrypted text file on my hard disk. This told me this was no spam. I applied my private key to it, and the message became clear. It read: "Change 1 'Hi Lover, It's me. If you are reading this rather than watching a JPEG of a pile of money, this means this embedded encryption system really works.' "John went ape when I told him you had fired me. He threatened to go around to your place and was saying things like 'woman or no woman, no one does that to MY wife'. I managed to placate him, saying that I wanted some time off. Anyway, we can afford to wait for a few months before I start looking again." "'I've decided that I cannot wait ten days for him to change totally. I have calculated how much his body can really take based on the depth of changes. Hope you don't mind. I realize that you cannot reply, but you have to trust me on this one." I stopped reading the message for a moment. Excellent! I will need to cater for this possibility. So, Cathline, that's fine by me. I went back to the message. "'I gave the first doses to him in some pizza last night. I wanted to start off small, so I gave him her arms. Have you put in some kind of random delay? Because about an hour after he had taken them, the following occurred. "'Honey? My arms feel weird,' John said. "'Pardon?' I asked. "'They feel all itchy. Have a look,' and he showed me his arms. "And lover, as I took his hands, the flesh began to ripple. His fingers reformed, smaller, and far more dainty than before. He began to scream as his normally muscular arms began to melt away. I had seen 'cogs' and 'dats' change before, but this was mesmerizing. His muscles seemed to flow, and he grimaced in pain as I could see bone and sinew reform into some muscular but very feminine arms. "'What's happening to me?' he sobbed. He stared at his new arms for some time, obviously unable to believe his eyes. "'I don't know, but I do know that I still love you. Besides, a little workout and no-one will ever notice,' I lied. "'Sure?'"

Part 2/4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year97/4206.txt

M1KE HUNT

The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a single other thing about the familiar poem was true, he thought wryly as he shuffled about in the attic. Several creatures were stirring, namely the three cats who called 143 Piermont St. home, and that alone made it unlikely there would be a mouse anywhere within several hundred yards of the place. They were her cats, actually, for they had come to the trash out back in search of a meal, and she had discovered, befriended, and finally adopted them, each in their turn. He didn't care, and had come to love them because he loved her and she loved them. He even took over the daily cat box chore, one distasteful concession to the efficient running of the household. This was another. The attic. She rarely ventured there, but occasionally directed him to fetch or store something up in that dreary place. Then it was his task to carry the bulky boxes up and down the rickety pine ladder that not too gracefully descended from the ceiling above. It was an irregular sort of job except around this time of year, when the Christmas decorations had to come down and the empty boxes had to go back up, and then again when the empty boxes had to reappear, be repacked and carried back up to sit amid the dust for another 11 months. And while he hated most of his duties, this one he relished. Christmas decorations. The holiday always meant so much to him, ever since he could remember coming downstairs on Christmas morning, wide-eyed at the pile of presents that Santa brought. His family was Christian, which meant he was too, but he wasn't really. He'd given up religion just a few years after he found out there was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy, and he never went inside a church again unless a friend or relative was getting married. She wasn't Christian either; she was Jewish, except she wasn't. Her family was, but like him, she'd given up religion early, going to Hebrew school just to mollify her parents, attending religious camp in the summers because it was an escape. Their conflict in religion was no conflict at all, really, except in late December. The first Christmas together was awkward, but only because both sets of parents insisted that the freshly married couple come to visit *them* for the holidays. In the end, the newlyweds stayed at home and had a private celebration all to themselves. And that was when and where they started their own Christmas Eve tradition. It was Christmas Eve morning, a funny sort of contradiction, he thought as he punched in at work and surreptitiously slipped out the back. The presents were already purchased, but he'd decided the night before (Christmas Eve Eve he figured it would be called) to put together one last surprise for her, and he ran to the corner lot where they were selling trees and picked out a nice blue spruce from what was left, then stopped at the local discount store to buy some decorations and lights. The rest of the day he spent alone, setting up the little fir, stringing the flickering lights, hanging the glass balls, delicately placing the tinsel strand by strand over the erect needles on the small tree's outstretched branches. When she came home, he watched as her ruddy cheeks flushed with surprise and her pupils widened with awe, and he grinned as he saw her blue eyes flash and moisten in emotional response. "You like?" he asked rhetorically. "Ummm," she mumbled, her gaze darting from the tree to the garland on the mantel and back. "Christmas..." "Yeah, well..." "I never had Christmas. All my friends had Christmas, and I always wanted Christmas, but we were the only Jewish family on the block. And, of course, I was like, six years old or something, so I didn't understand, but I asked my Mother why Santa Claus went to everyone else's house but not to our house." A tear fell. "And she tried to explain it, but she couldn't, and anyway...." her voice trailed off. "So you had Hanukkah." "Not the same. Not to a six-year-old. I mean, yeah, sure, we had Hanukkah. I even have a Menorah someplace." "Get it." "What, the Menorah?" "Yes." "Really?" "Really." And she did, and they made a place on the mantel for it, and even though Hanukkah had come and gone a week earlier, they lit the candles and she sang aloud as the hint of burning wax mingled with the evergreen-tinted air: "Baruch ata adonoy, elohanu melech ha olam.." "What does it mean?" he asked. "I don't really remember," she answered quickly. "I think it's 'bless you Lord as we light these candles', or something..." And they were in love, and she leaned against him on the couch and tried to teach him the song, and he held her as she gazed at the tree, and it was a most remarkable Christmas Eve. When at last he turned out the lights and they went upstairs to the bedroom, they made love, a gentle Christmas Eve mating, and they held each other softly as they enjoyed each other. There was no doubt, no discussion that the next year they would have a tree and Christmas and Hanukkah. But he vowed to surprise her, and he thought to set up the tree in the bedroom instead of the dining room so when she came home she would find that there was *no* tree, and then there *was* a tree after all. Again he stayed home from work and spent the day setting up the wintry scene, and it *was* a surprise and she was delighted and he beamed. Even though later they both agreed that the tree belonged downstairs rather than hidden up in the bedroom. But it did cast a soft light on the couple as they made love on a second Christmas Eve, the act reflected a hundred times in the dozens of colored glass balls. And they fell asleep, locked in each other's arms on another holiday night. And every year after he would stay home and turn the house into a winter magicland, each time more resplendent with more lights, more decorations, more tinsel. And every year she pretended to be surprised and he loved her for it. He learned the Hanukkah song, she sang Christmas carols, and they made love. Fourteen years makes for a nice tradition, he thought as he busied himself untangling the strings of colored lights and opening the boxes of ornaments to see if any had broken during their long stay upstairs in the darkness. Fourteen years! He reminisced about that one time, was it 5 or 6 years ago? when he'd snuck out of work several days before Christmas Eve and set everything up. And she *had* been surprised, since the surprise was always "supposed" to be on Christmas Eve, but his feelings were a little hurt when she said it was more fun when the "surprise" happened on Christmas Eve, even if it wasn't really a surprise anymore. She was right, of course, and they had Christmas Eve on Christmas Eve each year after that. For the next few hours, he set up the tree, unwound the lights, hung the ornaments, and hummed quietly to himself. "Hurry, hurry" he thought. "It's almost 6:00." He didn't think about the previous Christmas when he'd also been running late. That year - last year - he hadn't finished everything until almost 7:30, and she should have been home a half-hour before that. But finish he did, and he turned out all the lights and sat in his comfortable chair in the living room to await her arrival. He heard the car turn into the driveway, crunching through the gravel as if to announce its entrance, and he barely noticed the odd blue twinkle as he turned on the tree lights in the darkness of the room. It took her longer than usual to come up the steps, and as he walked across the room to greet her, he saw that the light outside wasn't twinkling, it was flashing, and it didn't register. And then the doorbell rang, and he opened it, and he saw the two men standing uncomfortably in their blue uniforms. All he could remember was the pulsing blue light on their car and a few bits and pieces of what they said: "...accident"..."truck"..."brakes"..."fire"... and it didn't register. It couldn't. This was Christmas Eve, and she was coming home any minute. She never did, of course, and the days and weeks that followed were a blur.The house was quiet, even though his friends visited frequently and were as helpful as could be, and his phone rang more often as both sets of parents grew closer to him and called, and his boss was terrific and told him to take his time coming back if he wanted, and everybody tried as hard as they could. Much too slowly, the first days became a week, and a little faster, the weeks turned into a month, and then more rapidly, the months became seasons, and it was already Christmas Eve again. "Hurry, hurry," he thought. "It's getting late." He hung the final ball and adjusted the last hanging ornament, and it was done. The first thing he noticed as he entered the garage was the dirt and dust on the car. It had been washed just a few days ago, but he hadn't been careful earlier that morning; it hadn't seemed important. Now his eyes focused on the bent and twisted aluminum ducts that just hours before had carried warm air to the bedroom above. His first chore on this Christmas Eve had been to pull the gray metal boxes from their hangers and rip the grates from the floor overhead, and now there were large holes where the tarnished brass registers belonged. He craned his neck as he gazed through the openings into the darkened bedroom that sat directly atop the garage. Satisfied with his work, he leaned into the vehicle and twisted the key that sat in the ignition and listened as the engine roared to life. "A full tank," he noted, enough to keep it idling for hours and hours, maybe all the way through Christmas day. The door clicked firmly as he pulled it closed behind him, leaving the garage. He strode purposefully through the kitchen, down the carpeted hallway, up the stairs and into the bedroom. He closed that door, too; and then he curled up in the bed, thinking of her, and he went to sleep.

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/6477.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'What's to stop me saying yes, taking the pill, and running off to find Kat?' I asked. She must have thought of that one. 'Forget Kat. She is effectively gone. I doubt that even my remaining millions would be able to find her. She could be any woman, and a harem is not the place for another beautiful young lady to be looking in.' 'So you have, in all practicality, killed her.' 'No, as a doctor I have sworn to protect life. She has about ten years as a harem sex slave before she is released. That will make her nearly forty. No doubt she would try and come running to find you, but with no birth certificate, no documents, and looking very Arabic, I very much doubt she could leave the country. These Bedouin harems are given free reign by most Middle-Eastern governments, so it's going to be impossible to track her down. Slave traders don't keep records, you know.' I wanted to cry for my poor Kat, locked away in chains in some depraved sheikh's harem, being used as just a sex and entertainment object. I knew Elizabeth was right. My darling 'Kat' was gone. 'Now back to your question about double-crossing me. You are quite correct, I have thought of that. Your natural body state is now female. The pill will change your body back to that of your male self. But the only way to keep it that way is to ingest a drug which I and only I have the means to produce. Each day you are without it, a part of you will turn back into me, this time for good, and in reverse order. That's right -- vagina first, then breasts, then head, and you know the rest. Ten days later you will resemble me again, this time for good.' 'So you will have me on a leash.' 'That's right. If you or I go away, I will leave enough drug to last you until my return. You will not be able to stray from my side forever.' 'What if you are killed or maimed in an accident?' 'Then ten days later, Dr. Elizabeth Bexley lives on in you.' 'So really, I have no choice at all.' 'You can say no and stay like that for good. I just hope you can adjust more than you have said. Otherwise, you will find womanhood a nightmare.' 'Can I think about it?' 'OK, you have two hours,' and with that, she carefully and visibly took the pill bottle, put it in her purse, and started to walk out. 'Wait, how can I think properly when every part of me is on fire in arousal?' 'Good point,' Elizabeth said, 'Fail-safe gamma disengage two hours. Fail-safe omega engage in two hours twenty minutes,' she added and went out. The waves of pleasure stopped, but I still could not move. The choice was clear. Just what would I give up for love? I had no doubt that Elizabeth was now quite insane. I was also in no doubt that she was also deadly serious. She meant to be my wife at any cost, and indeed this horrible choice must have been her plan from the start. To choose between life as a man, constrained by some chemical leash, or freedom as a woman, was really no choice at all. These past few days of being ogled at, being constantly aroused by the sight of my now tattooed breasts and body, menstruation looming, having to wear makeup, trying to find love again, and worst of all missing Kat -- this meant to me that being a woman was out of the question. Maybe someone else in the same situation would have been able to adjust, but not me. So the only other choice was to be with Elizabeth as a house-trained slave. I was in no doubt that she could and would use the threat of not giving me the drug against me, and I would be a prisoner no matter how beautiful the cell. In a way I was in the same situation as Kat, just a sex slave for an insane master (or mistress). If she could put this fail-safe thing in me, what else could she do? 'Fail-safe override,' I said. Nothing happened. I was still paralyzed. I guess if it was that easy to get around it, it wouldn't be a fail-safe. The command had to come from Elizabeth. There had to be a third option. Got it! Agree to her deal, then use whatever allowance she gave me to try and free myself from the drug's reliance. If it was done in secret, she would never know until it was too late. Before two hours was up, Elizabeth walked back in, still wearing Kat's body. 'Fail-safe all disengage five minutes, Fail-safe Omega engage in ten minutes,' she said. The pleasure waves went away as quickly as they had come. 'What's your choice?' she demanded. 'Deal. I want to marry you. Give me the pill,' I said. She thought for a moment and gave me pill number two. I took a glass of water in slender female hands, put the glass to my full pouting lips, and took the pill. Staring down at my heaving breasts, I breathed a sigh of relief - at last, the ordeal was over. 'Liar!' Elizabeth said. My body began to sweat uncontrollably. Here it comes, I thought. Suddenly I felt sick and rushed to the bathroom and promptly threw up violently. Several more chucks later, I stopped, stood up, and saw to my horror that my breasts were still there. A quick check down there met only with moist, warm flesh. 'How long until I change back?' 'Never!' Elizabeth said. 'You don't think I looked at my own face for twenty years and didn't know when I was lying.' 'You mean?' 'Yes, the last pill makes all your changes permanent.' My hand went to my face and traced its gentle oval shape, and feeling tears welling up inside me, I just cried. My fate was sealed. A woman I was, and a woman I would remain. 'You had a chance,' she said. 'How could I have avoided this?' I sobbed (thigh over thigh, what a pair! NO!) 'Said no to my deal.' 'Why?' 'Because you're right. I am a bitch, and now so are you.' I collapsed into uncontrollable sobs. 'Now you are me. You will need these,' she said, and she threw a passport and airline tickets at me. 'I think it's about time Dr. Elizabeth Bexley left, as I am very tired and I want to change as soon as I can,' she said. 'Wait,' I said. Kat, no, Elizabeth, held a cassette recorder in the air and said, 'This is my insurance. If anything happens to me, this will be found, and you, my dearest twin, will be in the proverbial shit.' She switched it on. 'If you don't leave now, Dr. Bexley, I will call security. My husband is due soon, and I know how you felt about being jilted by him. I don't know why you followed us here, but you must go. So please leave,' she said this with the distress obvious in her voice (what an actress!). 'No, you leave!' I screamed. 'This is my hotel room, and you are no longer welcome here,' she said with a hard, determined tone. 'OK, I'll go. But first I need to, you know, go.' 'Alright then.' I took off my trousers and stood in front of the bowl instinctively. I reached out for a dick but was only met by two folds of female flesh. I started to urinate standing up but quickly remembered to sit down before too much went all over the floor. Elizabeth came in and laughed in a vicious way, and threw me a skirt, saying 'you'd better wear this -- your jeans are dirty now'. I put on the patterned skirt. It reached down to my ankles and made me almost sick seeing it there. 'Time to go, Liz,' Elizabeth said, starting the cassette tape again. And I went out, taking the tickets with me. Looking at the ticket showed that they were for the 03:10 flight to JFK only. This was my only chance of escape. The passport showed the face of Elizabeth Bexley, Ph.D. Looking at the details caused my heart to sink. Name: Dr. Elizabeth Bexley Hair: Auburn Eyes: Blue Height: 1.77 Meters Sex: Female The 'Female' part, although in the same print, burned its way from the page into my mind. Distinguishing Marks: Mole on Right Thigh (soon to have massive tattoo of a hydra, I thought). Occupation: Medical Doctor. Looking at the time in the hotel (since I grew her arms, my watch didn't fit), I saw I had a full six hours to kill. I needed to be alone, and so I walked. No longer in the confines of my hotel room, I could not explore my body anymore, but every sway of hip, every touch of my skirt on my thighs, every bounce of breast, and every swish of hair could not deny or hide what and who I had forever become. The taxi to the airport got me to the terminal just in time to catch the flight. 8. Hell Hath No Fury ================ If Elizabeth's vengeance on me was long and convoluted, mine would be swift and immediate.I did not have the means to inflict on her the pain and suffering that she had done to me, and I knew she was due (as Kat) to leave in three days. So as I sat on the plane and flew home, I knew she mustn't be allowed to escape. Because once she was back, I would lose her forever. She did say that she wanted her body back, but I couldn't wait that long. No doubt she would ensure that I could not follow her or track her down. So the only chance I had was when she came off of her flight. I slept rough for three days. I could not bring myself to check into a motel, and besides, I had no money. I refused to take the obvious last-ditch career choice for when a girl is out of money, so I slept rough. Or rather, tried to. I was followed on several occasions, and rape seemed inevitable, but somehow each time I managed to lose my follower in the crowded streets of New York. Every hour I was awake, my sense of loss grew - Kat, my manhood, my life. I wished Elizabeth had just killed me, but this living hell followed me around. Everywhere I went, men and women went to and fro, minding their own business. To them, I was just a rather unkempt woman who had fallen on hard times. Sure, give her sympathy, but not much else. I had no prospect, only a drop into prostitution or exotic dancing, but I suspected that my tattoo would severely restrict the clients I would get. In any case, I loathed my vagina and could not face kissing a man. Let's face it, the market for lesbians who had a thing for tattoos must be very small. My mind was in a blur, but then a plan came into focus. Day came and then a night, and then it was time to move. I chose the nearest gun shop to the airport and went in. 'What'll it be, miss?' the owner said. 'I want something to protect me whilst I find work,' I tried to say seductively. 'And what work is that?' the man asked. Men were all the same. I should know, I am still one inside, and I lust after myself every day. 'What do you think?' 'I think you're a girl who enjoys a good time.' 'Do you want a freebie?' I said. The man came out from around the counter. He was easily six feet tall and had broad shoulders, his face showing the scars of several fights. 'Do you like this?' I said, and I showed my thigh with the hydra's tail tattoo on it. 'Cool tattoo,' the man said. 'It goes all the way up,' I said, 'come and see.' As he bent down to look up my skirt at the tattoo and, more than likely, my crotch, I quickly brought my leg up into his face. He screamed and collapsed into a heap. Before he could get up, I stamped my foot into his genitals, and he writhed around helpless. Just to be sure, a quick chop to the windpipe soon sorted him out. The keys were in his pocket, and as I lifted them out, I looked at the clock on the wall. Just over two hours before Elizabeth was due to arrive back. Looking at the array of weapons, I wondered which one to choose. I REALLY wanted a magnum, but could hardly lift one. So I had to settle for a small-caliber Colt. The ammo was hard to find, but eventually, I found some. Carrying the gun into an airport was going to be difficult with nothing to put it in, so looking around, I saw the man's sports bag laying behind the counter. Perfect! Fully tooled up, I hitched to the airport but remained quiet. I had no idea how I would get away with this, but nothing but vengeance mattered now. There is an old saying - before starting out on revenge, dig two graves, one for them, one for you. There was also another saying that revenge is a dish best served cold. Well, my heart was as cold and sharp as flint. I sat waiting in the arrivals lounge, my slender hand inside the bag, feeling the surprise I had for Elizabeth. I didn't have to wait long. In a crowd, I saw her, still as Kat, looking very relaxed. NOW! I thought. But there were too many people around. At a distance, I followed her. She became aware of my pursuit and started to run down a long, brightly lit corridor. 'Help me,' she screamed, but still, I pursued her, oblivious to all around me. Suddenly, I had a clear shot, and I pulled the gun from the bag and took aim. The pressure needed on the trigger was greater than I thought, and suddenly the world was in slow motion. There was a loud CRACK!, and the gun bucked in my hand. I looked up in time to see the back of Elizabeth's head explode as the shell hit the base of the skull. I heard another CRACK just in time to feel stabbing, burning pain as a bullet entered my shoulder. I was spun to the ground with the force of the impact, and the last thing I saw was the blood seeping out from the remains of Elizabeth's head. A smile spread across my face. 'All done,' I said. I awoke in prison overalls with my shoulder still aching. I was dragged into a small room, where two cops sat opposite me. 'Why'd you do it, Elizabeth?' they asked. 'You wouldn't believe me.' 'Try us. You had everything - money, looks, intelligence. You could have had any man you wanted. Why'd you kill Jane Stephens?' 'That wasn't Kat, I mean Jane.' 'Then who did you think it was?' I could see where this was leading, and I just kept quiet. 'We found this on her,' and the cop produced the cassette tape. He inserted it into a player. The conversation Elizabeth and I had before I was thrown out was replayed. 'You know what it looks like to us?' the cop said. 'What?' 'Distraught over being jilted, you decided to take a little trip to the happy honeymooners. You tried to warn Jane off, but she threw you out. You then lay in wait and blew her brains out so that hubby would come running back to you.' Some time later. 'All Rise.' 'How does the jury find the defendant?' 'Guilty on all counts.' 'Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, you have been found guilty of the first-degree murder of Jane Stephens. You will be taken from this place and brought to another where you will be executed by lethal injection. May God have mercy on your soul.' The End

4/4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/1519.txt

Darkside

Hell Hath No Fury

'I am now coming onto that. I will not let you get to the point where you are in danger of death because your poor body cannot cope with the stress. Therefore, I will give you a pill whenever you start to lapse into a coma.' 'The thought of more of me being like THIS repulses me, but let me choose when to take a pill.' At the 'this' I again gestured to my legs (Thigh over Thigh, STOP IT). 'I had been thinking along the same lines,' I admitted. 'OK, I will agree, but if you try to hold out past a danger point, I will override and force you to take one.' So by current reckoning, I had...Let me see...9 hours left until the next pill, that means there will be seven pills left. At two days a pill, that gives me just over fourteen days before I am Elizabeth Bexley. However, at what point will I be female - when breasts grow, when I have a vagina, womb, or is gender just a state of mind? Ten days after that will mean either happily ever after or.. No, the other is just too unthinkable. Kat said, 'Plenty of time -- just under a month to E day.' How does Kat know what I am thinking? Women's intuition? 'Listen, I want to go for a walk to see if anyone saw anything a few days ago,' I know I should have gone earlier, but this has knocked us all out of sorts,' Kat said, and with this, she went out of the room. Alone, with only five hours to go before the pain really started, I started to think logically. If I can last two days after taking one pill, maybe taking two pills will extend it past a week. Some of the drug must still be left in me after the changes in order to stop the fever. So now three days was the most I went without, and that was the limit, and I become very uncomfortable after two and a half days. So if I take two pills, then I should be able to last at least five days, maybe even six. Which means that my total male time remaining would be 7 * 2=14, or if I took two pills and they lasted me five days, it would be 7/2=3.5 pills multiplied by 5 equals 17.5 days, which buys me 3 and a half extra days. Three hours later, and Kat had not yet returned. 'Well, what have I got left to lose?' I thought. 'Your dick for a start,' came the reply from inside me. I will take two pills to see if I can overload the drug to extend the time I have available. Let me think. Pills three and four gave me her legs, so which ones won't give me tits and a cunt? I didn't know how Elizabeth would number the pills, so I, taking a glass of water and trying not to spill any as the fever was beginning to get a grip on me, took pills five and six in quick succession. I erupted in spasm only to pass out. Five hours later, a very concerned Kat was standing over me. 'What did you do, You took one, didn't you?' 'No, two,' and I explained my reasoning to her. 'You stupid idiot!' she shrieked, 'Can't you see the narcotic is adjusting your thought patterns and probably your math to allow it to fool you into speeding up the transformation? That's how Elizabeth was to stop you from dying, by making the drug seduce you into giving your body enough time to rest by making you take a multiple dose.' 'What have I done?' I sobbed. 'How long?' 'About five hours.' 'Can I stay and watch?' she asked with a curious look. 'You are sick!' 'No, just curious,' she said with a mischievous grin. At that moment, I was kicked in the gut by a mule, at least it felt like that. My mouth started to froth as I convulsed in pain. Wave after wave of mule kicks made me lose consciousness. I awoke sometime later. 'Which bit?' I rasped. 'That was amazing! I have never seen anything like it,' Kat said. I reached for my dick, and the relief of finding him still there was immeasurable. I then reached up to feel for breasts, but all that met my hands was my smooth skin. Phew, no tits! Wait a minute. Smooth Skin! I stood up and dashed to a mirror. What greeted me there was a shock -- round but firm muscular shoulders sat above a smooth, hairless, slim form. They were the kind of shoulders that came from lots of time in the gym, but not macho in any shape or form. There were no breasts or hips to emphasize the womanly shape, but the rounded, sylph form of Elizabeth's body stared back at me. 'No, no, no, what was I thinking!' I sobbed. Kat's fingers traced the lines of my now womanly shoulder blades. I recoiled away. 'I thought you took two pills,' she said. 'I did.' 'But only one thing changed.' 'This is a pretty big thing,' I sobbed. I noticed for the first time how my belly seemed to go in, forming a tight, muscled flat stomach. 'At least your navel has stayed the same, although the shape of your stomach makes it smaller and much more cute,' Kat stated. 'Navels aren't genetic, remember.' I ran my hand over the smooth skin of my new body. This sent tingles down my spine, and once again, I felt aroused. However, seeing those curved, rounded shoulders, flat stomach, and flat, thin, hairless chest soon turned me off. 'What is up with me? How can I be a normal woman if I catch myself ogling my legs and body?' I just noticed my collarbone was more visible now and seemed to want to try and connect to thankfully non-existent breasts. 'You took two pills. You must have another part to go.' 'No way! I need to go bad,' I said. Sitting on the toilet, looking down at my sylph-shaped body, I wondered where and how it was going to end. I actually knew where it was going to end - me ending up being female, but the other issue was how Kat would react to sleeping with a woman. The thought of even kissing a man caused me almost to vomit. Wait a minute! PAIN! Crunch of bone! I looked down at my shapely, firm thighs only to notice that my hips were suddenly much smaller. 'Kat,' I gasped, and I rolled off the seat. She rushed in. 'Oh my God!' she screamed. The flesh was rippling around my hips, while inside me, several rhinos were trying to escape. I clutched my abdomen in pain. 'Ahhh, my belly!' I sobbed. 'That must be your womb forming.' The flesh movements were subsiding where I could see them, but the sensation from my ass had increased. 'Turn round,' Kat said, and she showed me the view of my rear in the mirror. My buttocks were re-forming, becoming tighter, smaller, and much, much more feminine. The rippling stopped. 'Nice ass,' I thought, but the rhinos reminded me that it was now mine. I stood up, still weak and sweaty. Thankfully, the rhinos had stopped. Which gave me time to examine the changes. In front of the full-length mirror stood a very peculiar sight -- a titless, fannyless woman stood in front with muscular arms and a very non-feminine face. Smooth, graceful curves went from my rounded shoulders past my chest and dipped in at just the right point. My hips caused the classic hourglass figure, while my long legs now seemed to be far more at home curving gracefully into my hips. The taut, muscular stomach now blended into a bulge in the pubic area, which I with horror assumed must be my womb. Turning round, I saw how my ass was firmer, much more shaped, and indeed would probably have won 'rear of the year'. Each cheek was delicately shaped with just enough curve to cause yet another curve from the small of my back to my ass. 'Oh no, no, no, no, no,' I sobbed. 'Apart from a few bits, I am a woman now.' More sobbing as I broke down in tears. 'Don't be silly, you may have curves in all the right places now, but look, you are still male. You still have a dick, your face is hardly girlish, and not many women have arms as hairy as yours,' Kat tried to console me. 'You don't understand! If I have a womb, it now means that I am producing female hormones, which will cause me to grow breasts and become more ladylike.' 'Yes, but your testosterone will fight that, and tests have shown that testosterone will cancel out any excess female hormones.' 'How did you know that?' 'What? You think I never read anything before?' 'Sorry, look, I am really stressed about this. I thought I could cope until this change. This is the point of no return. I must try and adjust, but I find I cannot. I look in the mirror or at my legs and see HER, not me, HER.' Kat hugged me, and her fingers ran comforting circles around the small of my back. I could feel her breasts heaving against my smooth skin, and again the moment was spoiled as I pulled away. 'What?' she said. 'I'm sorry, I loathe anything female now. I feel your breasts against my chest and imagine waking up to find I've got them too, you deciding you cannot live with me, me trying to fit in being a woman but failing. Look at this.' I stood up and walked across the room. I was aware of my hips swaying, but tried to put it out of my mind.'See the REAL Elizabeth walked with such grace and posture that she seemed to float, but look at me -- I just waddle. I'm an in-between trapped now between two worlds and I just want my old life back.' 'With that figure, you look more in my camp than yours,' Kat said. 'I know,' I sobbed. 'Look, let's get some sleep. I still want to sleep with you, and if it helps, you can wear my black teddy and garters. I know that turns men on, me as well thinking about it.' 'We've had this conversation before.' 'Yes, but not when the chances of you being able to make love to me properly have dropped from ten to one to six to one. 'Just let me rest -- this is the worst day of my life.' I was feeling utterly tired, and again my normal healthy desires were out to lunch. I awoke early in the morning, much refreshed, and decided to venture outside. I tried on one of my old shirts, but it was now far too loose and hung on my new body like an old sack. A T-shirt was no good as it showed every curve of my new shape, and although I once again looked lustfully at the body under that shirt, reality soon struck back. Pants were another problem. My normal size didn't fit anymore, and even when the belt was fastened as tight as it would go, they still either looked ridiculous or extremely baggy. Kat had been watching my 'fashion show' with some concern, but also she was a little amused. 'Do you want to try something of mine?' 'No, that would be giving in to what is happening to me. The moment I try on women's clothes, I am admitting what I am becoming, and that I refuse to do.' 'Dressing up can be fun,' Kat said. 'Maybe, but I can't pass as a woman even if I wanted to. My hair is too short, my hands too big, and...and why am I even thinking this?' 'Because you are trying to adapt to your situation and are willing to give it a try.' 'LISTEN,' I hissed. 'What?' 'I will repeat again. I will resist this with all my might. I am facing a craving for something that will destroy our life together. I cannot give in to it,' I added with passion. 'Fair enough. Do you want me to see what I can buy for you? I need to take your measurements.' 'I know them: waist 36, inside leg...' 'No, your new measurements with a body that shape. Now I have to take hip and waist.' 'OK,' I said, defeated. 'Let me see: waist 24, hips 36. At least Elizabeth is perfectly proportioned.' 'Remember, nothing female, no skirts, no leotards.' 'This IS Egypt. It is not done for a lady to show her legs or ankles in public, so I will buy pants for you.' An hour later, she was back, carrying a couple of bags. 'Here, try these on,' and she threw me a pair of stretch jeans. 'These are women's jeans,' I protested. 'You have a women's body shape now; men's just won't fit now.' I reluctantly put them on and did them up. The first thing I noticed was how much a bulge my dick made in them, but I had no desire to see that go. Turning round, I saw my ass, well, Elizabeth's ass in these tight jeans, and as I looked in the full-length mirror, I again thought, 'God, she looks good in those.' 'Look cute, don't you?' Kat said. Again, my lust was jolted back to reality. 'Why do I fancy myself every time I look in the mirror?' 'That's easy, it's because inside you are a normal hetero-male, even though the outside is beginning to look decidedly the opposite. Try these on,' and Kat threw me a shirt and some sandals. The shirt tried to hide my curves, but it would be obvious to anyone who looked closely that men shouldn't have curves where I had. The sandals were the most satisfactory thing. It was only the size of my feet that gave anything away. Fully clothed for the first time in days, I ventured outside. The sunlight was bright, and the day gloriously hot. We did the normal things tourists do in Egypt: pyramids and Sphinx tombs, and for two glorious days, it seemed as though nothing had happened. Yes, my new body got some strange looks from the more observant. I still refused to sleep with Kat, as I knew that sooner or later, more drastic changes would occur. The sex situation was not helped by my distinct lack of sex drive. Don't think for a minute I had accepted my fate. I detested every waggle of hip, every curve, every part of my new body. I had to go along for Kat's sake. I must say, though, that she has been taking it very well, but I hate to think what will happen later on. Kat stated her disbelief that I was still in denial over this, but then I am who I am, or should that be I am who I was. Still, seize the day. In fact, the fever hadn't returned after the third day, and it looked as though my theory was right. Kat suggested that it was because my body needed time to recuperate and that the fever wouldn't return until it was safe to do so. 'If it does, I am taking two at a time again. These past few days were the best I have felt since it all began,' I said to Kat. 'No, I want you male as long as I can! How can you be so selfish? I have needs too, you know.' Two more days passed, which made a total of five days in which I felt OK. 'I'm bushed,' I said. 'Me too, want to go to bed?' 'Sleep yes, sex no.' 'I can't wait forever, you know, neither can you! I may be able to fondle you and caress you when you are Elizabeth, but you won't be able to screw me.' 'Please, I must deal with this in my own way.' 'You haven't been dealing with it at all. Every time it is "I can't cope", "being a woman is worse than being dead", "how can I fancy myself" or "No, I won't screw you because I remind you of what you may/are becoming".' 'I waited a year to sleep with you. Can't you wait a little longer?' 'Any longer and we will be sharing Tampons,' and with that, she stormed off. Sitting in bed, looking at my shapely legs, the curve of my hips, and slenderness of body, I realised that I had been selfish and that I would make it up to her when she returned. The next morning, the fever returned, but Kat was nowhere to be found. I was too unwell to venture out, and in any case, if I left the room, she might come back, get the wrong idea, and then leave, this time for good. So I stayed put. Room service delivered dinner, but again, no Kat, so I ate in silence and pain. About 10 pm, I crashed out. Morning came, and with it, the now familiar cravings. A thought popped into my head -- take a pill that'll show her. But I was wise now to this Narcotics trick, and stubbornly refused to give in. Six pm, and still no Kat, and this time I could bear it no more. Taking a glass of water, I swallowed pill number seven. The pill seemed a little larger than the others, and I had to take two goes to get it down. Now I just wait. I looked into the jar and saw only FOUR pills left. Quickly, I tipped them out and counted them. Pills ten, nine, one, two -- where was eight? The extra-large pill! Eight must have been stuck to seven. 'Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Oh Kat, Where are you...' Three hours later, and still no Kat and no changes. This meant that I would know what parts of me were to change in the next three hours. The fever subsided after another half hour. I sat on the bed, completely naked, just waiting for the inevitable. There was no pain, just an ache in my arms. As I tried to write a sorry note, I dropped the pen on the floor. Reaching out for it with my left hand, I noticed slender fingers on an even more delicate hand, a surgeon's hand. As I noticed this, the hairs on my left arm fell out, and muscles began to reshape into a more delicate form. I saw that my elbow now had that cute little dimple that Elizabeth had. My left arm was now much more in line with the rest of me. The muscles seemed to flow much more gracefully into my rounded shoulders, and my hand and nails were just as I remembered Elizabeth's to be. I was so taken in by the changes that had occurred to my left arm that it wasn't until I put a hand to feel its smooth, soft skin that I realised that BOTH my arms had changed. I had to think rationally. I had dodged a bullet, so to speak, this time, but the countdown to cunt time was getting shorter. Where was Kat? (OK THINK!!) There were ten pills, and there are now four left. Six parts of me now resembled those of Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, which means that each limb and body part must be a pill. Pill inventory time... Pills three and four had given me her legs (Thigh Over Thigh again, NO) -- Pills five and six gave me these wretched curves and a womb -- Pills' seven and eight (by mistake) gave me her slender arms. This must mean that one of the remaining pills must change my face, neck, and my god, voice! I had admired that voice for years. (Concentrate..) One must be the coup-de-grace -- the one that condemns me to womanhood. The next two, of course, a breast each. But which was which? The next day, to my horror, the fever returned. Kat was right -- it was the drug that determined how long it took for withdrawal symptoms to show, not the amount of pills taken. Kat, where are you, Kat. My body had gone through some major changes, but arms were minor, so it figures that the only large one left was my head and dick. I cannot now think straight as the fever hits in waves. I lay on the bed, calling Kat's name, but still, she did not come. Some hours later, I had to take another pill, but which one? My limbs came in pairs, so breasts must come in pairs of pills as well. That means, shit, both nine and ten and one and two are pairs. Never mind, I must take one. Taking the glass of water, I shut my eyes and popped a pill into my mouth and swallowed it. Quickly counting the three pills remaining showed me that I had swallowed number nine. Seven hours after taking pill nine, and just after I thought that must be a dud, my head felt as though it was being hit by a very large brick. I rushed to the mirror. Through the pain, I realised that I, at last, was going to LOOK like my ex-fiancee. I couldn't speak, and my head was in a whirl. Bones crunch! and my face is now oval in shape, my normal square chin gone, replaced by a rounder, softer one.My womanly hands clutch at my nose as I can feel it reshape and form hers. Pain in my gums indicates that my teeth are being reshaped while my lips reform to form her pout. In a moment of calm, I notice my ears look different - they are her ears. I go blind for what seems an eternity as stabbing pains shoot through my eyeballs. When I blurrily look in the mirror, I see my once brown eyes are definitely blue with a touch of gray. My normally thickish eyebrows now form a frame for a lovely yet terribly familiar face. I pull at my hair, which is now growing auburn at the roots as my entire scalp itches. I can now speak, but the voice is not my own. Somewhere, Elizabeth is calling 'no no no.' The full lips in the mirror match the sound, and I now own that voice. The hair by now has grown until it reaches my shoulders, and it's a strange sensation on my curved form, adding yet more pain. The hair is matted by sweat, but there is no doubt that I now look exactly like Elizabeth. I see delicate hands move up to the full pouting lips. (That's strange - I can feel hands on my mouth). They move to the oval, high-cheekboned face and trace the contours with a finger (that's even odder - why is there no stubble?). 'No, this can't be me,' Elizabeth's voice says again, the lips in the mirror matching the words. After what seems like hours, I begin to realize that any pretense of being a man died with that pill. Breasts and even a vagina can be hidden, but a face like this, not a chance. The full impact of the changes over the past few weeks came to me at that moment. I had been kidding myself - this was how I was going to look now, and Kat had been right, we should have made the most of it, but where is she? But I was/am a man - how could I let Elizabeth do this to me? As I sat naked, feeling my new hair brush against my shoulders, despair began to weigh on me. My life, my marriage was over. Kat, in spite of all her platitudes, had no real desire to sleep with a woman - she was no lesbian. But what was I? I could never fancy a man, and the thought of even kissing one recoiled. I still fancied women. Yes, I know that lesbian relationships can be sexually satisfying, but I am a man! My instincts are to penetrate, not be penetrated. I noticed that Kat had left a bottle of champagne in the fridge, and I opened it with much difficulty (of course, I was stronger when I had MY arms). Several glasses later, I was feeling much worse, not drunk, depressed, and I just wanted to end it, the whole thing. Let me be a woman - I don't care anymore.. Staring at the pill jar and the glass, the choice was easily made. Pills one and ten followed quickly after each other, and as I sank down into a fitful sleep, I dreamed of better days when I knew which bathroom to go in. Morning came, and I awoke. I thought I heard Kat return. I leapt out of bed but instantly regretted it as two large breasts bounced heavily on my chest. I did what any right-thinking man would do. I screamed. Gingerly, I put a womanly hand to my right breast. Its warm, sensitive firmness surprised me. I had felt tits before, but never on me. Its weight surprised me, as did exactly how sensual it felt. Gingerly, I took my hand away, and it flopped back down again, causing a strange sensation. I studied them in more detail than was perhaps healthy, but these were MY breasts, and it was not natural for a man to have them. They jutted out from my chest as though they wanted to be separate from me, their round shapes forming a definite cleavage. The nipples were pink but small, and the areolas were a darker color. Again, my hand touched a nipple, and it almost made me jump at the sensation. The nipples began to swell, and in fact, if this was a woman, I would have to say a woman in arousal. But then again, the swelling in my jeans must mean something. Anyway, going back to my breasts, I rubbed them with another hand and let out a small whimper. 'Steady on, you'll wear them out,' Kat said.

Part One 2/4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/4203.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'Kat' or should I say 'Jas' looks like your luck is about to change. The door opened, and in walked, how shall we put this, an Adonis. He was tall with deep brown eyes, and not a muscle (and there were plenty of them) was out of place. "I see that my money was not wasted. Come, my princess," Adonis gestured for me to follow. This I did, wondering if I was right not to resist. In spite of all this man's charm, I was married to the man I loved. If I was ever to see him again, I must gain this man's trust. I followed him outside and into a large white limousine. He gave me a glass of champagne and said, "You are the most beautiful of all my women. No man shall have you except me; you will serve no man except me. All my riches are as nothing to your beauty." I couldn't help but feel a glow of pleasure being complimented in this way. I guess I must call him master or something. "Thank you, master." "I am not your master. How could anyone lay claim to such beauty? You may call me Hassan, and you will be at my side, always. I will not have you unless you consent, for that would corrupt your beauty. You are my precious rose, there to look at and admire, not to pluck with a harsh hand. I have waited many years for a chief girl, and I knew the moment I saw you that you were the one," he said with such a gentle look on his face that my heart was beginning to melt. "Thank you, Hassan. I will remember your promise to me," I said. We sipped champagne in silence as the limousine drew up outside a large walled palace. Guards opened the large steel gates, and we drew into a wonderful courtyard. A fountain was in the center, and all around was the sweet smell of flowers. The door was opened for me by a butler, and I got out and stared around. "Welcome to your new home, my love," Adonis said. Hmm, I could stay here for a while, I thought. Hassan gestured for me to follow him, which I did. We went past large rooms where the whisper of female voices could be heard through closed doors. "You are too precious to stay with my other women," Hassan said. We went to a large winding staircase, and we climbed. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually, we reached the top. Hassan opened the door, and I went in. The room was one can only describe as palatial. Easily as large as my house at home, it had a four-poster bed with ornate silk covers. The room was littered with flowers, and a carpet of fresh rose petals lay under my feet. "It's fantastic," I gasped. "If you need anything, you can have it," Hassan said, and with that, he left. Alone for the first time since the auction, I explored the room. Behind a silk curtain was a walk-in closet with every kind of outfit. From an elegant designer ball gown to some sports kit. Kat, my girl, you really landed on your feet here. I mustn't lose sight of my true goal. A cage is still a cage, no matter how elaborate the bars. In one corner was a sunken bath full of warm white liquid. I dipped a finger in. It tasted like milk. I'd read about Cleopatra bathing in asses' milk and had always wanted to give it a go. I took off my Jasmine outfit and looked down at my new body. My situation had so overpowered me that I had forgotten who I now looked like. Jane Stephens was no more, at least in body. I dipped a brown, slender leg into the bath. Ummm, that felt good. I put my other leg in and sank in. Oww, I'd just sat on my hair. I'd forgotten it was that long. I stretched out and relaxed for the first time in ages. It didn't bother me as much as I thought, having my body changed like this. Sure, I'd want my proper form back, but this was nothing compared to how HE is changing. Oh God, what's happening to me? I've become intoxicated with this place. I'm beginning to forget. This place is like the Elysian Fields; once here, you forget your past. Hassan does not need bars and armed guards to keep his women here; he seduces them with words and milk baths, and soon they forget their past. This I will not do. Hold on, my sweet, I'll be back soon; this I vow. After spending an hour in the bath, I got up and dried myself off. Hmm, being Jasmine's not so bad, but I've yet to meet someone who will recognize me as her. I put on an ornate silk dressing gown and, tired from the events of the day, slept. A knock at the door awoke me at, I guess, around 11 am. "Come in," I shouted. At the door was another girl, this time dressed in what I would call traditional harem costume. She was smaller than me at 5'4", large-breasted, and looking very scared. "The master requests your attendance at his conference now," she said. "What shall I wear?" I asked. "The master asks that you wear dress five from your collection and shoes number twenty," she said, still in fear of me. Why? I went over to the closet and saw each hanger had a number. I saw a beautiful blue saffron dress that seemed to shimmer in the light. I put it on and looked in the nearby mirror. I'm still not used to my new reflection, but I will admit the old me could never carry off that outfit the way I could now. My hair was a mess, though. I went over to the dressing table and went to pick up an ivory hairbrush. "Mistress, you are not allowed; let me," the lady said. "Okay, thanks," I said as I gave her the hairbrush. I sat down, reveling in the feeling of having my hair brushed in such a sensuous way. Remember, Kat, Elysian Fields, hold on to your promise. "I have done, mistress," the girl said. I stood up and looked in the mirror in awe of the image there. No one I had ever seen had ever portrayed such an air of grace and majesty as I now did. A beautiful Arabian princess stared back at me, her arms moved up to her face in time with mine. The blue dress showed every curve, my tiny waist exaggerated them but not so much as to look ridiculous. "You must come now," the girl said. I went to the closet and picked out shoes number twenty; they were deep blue in color with only a slight heel. They fitted perfectly. I followed the girl downstairs and into a large room. Hassan sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his guests. Every single jaw in the place dropped as they took me in. "Is she not a jewel beyond measure?" Hassan said and beckoned me to move over to him. "She is indeed. I wish all my girls were like her," a fat, disgusting man, about fifty, said. "I'm sure you do, Osman. But this is one jewel you will not touch," Hassan said. I walked over to Hassan, and he pointed to a wine jug. "Serve us, please," he said. I picked up the jug and did so. The evening went on with me being just a waitress and the object of many lewd jokes, judging by the laughter. At the end of it, the others went away, leaving just me and Hassan alone. "Be glad Osman Rahmani did not buy you," Hassan said. "Why?" "He is an evil but powerful man. He was boasting that he had gouged a girl's eye out with a hot iron because she disobeyed him," he said. I shuddered at the thought. Poor girl, my heart goes out to her. "Sit a while, and let us talk," Hassan said. We talked about many things. He outlined his promise that he would not touch me unless I wanted it. I was, however, to serve at his table whenever he wanted. I was also responsible for discipline between the other girls and would be expected to keep them in order. That explained why my 'maid' was so scared. He outlined his family history to me. His family had always lived here, and before his parents died, they had hoped that he would find a wife soon. Oh God, Kat, he means me. Hassan also stated that it was forbidden to talk about my past, only our future. "It is time you went to bed; we have more guests tomorrow." My maid took me upstairs, and my head was in a whirl. How can I escape, and how long before I succumb to Hassan's charm? As each day passed, I saw in my mind's eye my husband slowly changing into HER. I felt bitter and powerless to help. Come on, hubby, fight it, I thought each day as the time drew near when he would become HER forever. I was not allowed near the other girls in normal day-to-day life. I had to deal with a few disputes between girls, but they were only minor matters. A month after my capture, I felt a pit of despair in my stomach. By now, there would be two Elizabeth Bexleys, one my sweet, the other a demoness from hell. I must get out. I must find out my love's fate. The same pattern of serving tables and talks afterwards repeated itself for a couple of months when Hassan came to visit me.This was a first, as he had always called me and had never come to visit. "Come, my Jewel, we have some shopping to do," he said. He took my hand, and we went to his waiting limousine. F+2 months..

Part 14 of 37

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/4915.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'Now do you want to tell me why you keep calling this lady, John?' I said. Cathline outlined everything (missing out the really hot bits I might add). How she thought that Jennifer was doing this to spite them. How she thought it could have something to do with Project 2322 and what else could they expect to happen. 'First things first. I think you should both join me in the pool while I have a think,' I said. 'But we've no costumes with us,' John said. 'That's OK. You can skinny dip if you like.' 'I'm game, if you are,' said Cathline, and she gave me a knowing look. 'I'm not sure,' John said. 'Look here John, or is it Jane, You've nothing I haven't seen hundreds of times and since you cannot corrupt someone who is already 'evil and corrupt'. I don't see that it makes a difference. Come on, live a little. All my servants are gone for the evening so we are completely alone,' I said. 'And besides, you have been eyeing me up since you got here,' I added. 'OK, what have I got to lose?' he said. As Cathline stripped off revealing her comely form (how I had missed that, these past few weeks), John did the same. He really did look a funny sight. Just like dear Kat, but with no breasts or vagina. His male organ hung down, looking very lost on his curvy form. 'The sweater didn't do you justice,' I said to John. 'That's your opinion,' he retorted. We swam around for a while until Cathline dunked my head under water in a playful fashion. As I swam up, I allowed myself a quick stroke up her thigh. Her shiver that followed was not because of the cold. I chased after her in the pool, easily out-swimming her and began to dunk her in the same way. 'That's no way to treat my wife,' I heard John say as he swam over and tried to dunk me. Being taller and stronger than him, he had no chance. I 'accidentally' brushed my leg over his cock, and looking down at the once limp organ expand, I knew that he was getting turned on. I got out of the pool and ran swiftly to the other side to avoid my water-bound pursuers. Just as I was about to dive in, I heard a yelp from John. 'My God! My God! My God!' he was saying. Cathline pulled him over to one side and shouted, 'Look Liz!' I stared at his chest. His nipples did seem a little larger than before, and I could see the beginnings of breasts beginning to form on his chest. Well-timed, Cath, I thought. His hands were clutching at his ever-swelling bosom, whilst his face looked down in disbelief. We pulled him out of the pool, noticing that his chest now sprouted two, proud and firm female breasts. His nipples were erect from arousal rather than the cold. Cathline put her hand to one of her husband's 'assets' and stroked a nipple. This was a moment between wife and wife, I guess. His response was 'Hmmmm. That's very nice!' and he reached up and planted a kiss firmly on the teat of her nipple. I coughed, not wanting to be left out in all this. 'That was incredible,' I said. My words fell on deaf ears as the couple continued their passionate session. I had noticed her hand stroking his breasts in the same way as she did mine. I was surprised that he did not react in a stronger way to suddenly growing breasts, but I suspect that my gray powder was the reason behind it. Her hand was stroking his cock and the other, his breasts. He was almost inactive, his face red with pleasure. He was either resting or overwhelmed at the sensations he could now feel. 'Is he all right?' I said a little louder. Again, my only answer was increased passion from the couple. He had woken up from his earlier 'trance' and was gently touching her around her clitoris. She began to moan softly as his finger went inside her. I had had enough of this and decided to join in. If you can't beat them, join them. John's face looked startled to feel another pair of hands begin to stroke him. Cathline's response was to say, 'come on in.' I stripped off my costume and saw with some pleasure that John's eyes were wide, ogling my long legs, curved, perfectly muscled body, and full, but let me assure you, very firm breasts. Cathline made room for me, and I was soon made to feel welcome as a hand (I think it was John's!) stroked my thigh. I began to respond, touching him in kind. I couldn't help but note down the finer details of Kat's body, knowing that I must become familiar with every part of it. Cathline was feeling left out and so said, 'John, what do you say we pay the hostess back for her hospitality?' 'Agreed,' he panted. With the combined strength of two of them, I had no chance as they rolled me onto my back. Cathline pinned my arms, her breasts, just nudging my face. John's legs pinned mine, spread outwards revealing my pussy to the world. He began to kiss my torso and I became very much aroused. I started to nibble Cathline's tits. I could feel myself getting very wet as John began to touch my clit. I moaned, louder and louder, as I felt his fingers go inside me. I tried to move my hands and legs, but they were held firm as my two lovers continued. 'Let's really thank her,' John said. I saw John begin to move into a more upright position, his new breasts tauntingly out of reach. I could see from the way he was going to move that he wanted to fuck me. Why do men always want to penetrate so quickly? Still, in a few weeks, he'd have to learn differently. I was so moist that he slipped inside with almost no fuss and, ohhhh! It had been too long since a man had had me. Cathline was now touching, stroking and caressing John's face, body and breasts, and he was kissing her as well. He began to move inside me, his now fully erect dick rubbing against my clit. Suddenly my hand was free and Cathline's pussy was exposed. I touched its moist, warm clit and she almost jumped. 'Ratbag!' She teased, and with her spare hand began to caress my breasts again. John was now thrusting with all his might. His womanly voice moaning 'yes!' ever louder. Once again, we were in concert. When this was all over, I would have to arrange for another threesome with someone else! All three of us reached orgasm together, our bodies shaking and flushed with the waves of pleasure. The warm, wet feeling inside me told me that John had just come, and he collapsed on top of me, too spent to move. Cathline and I continued for a while, and I offered to give her a good licking, but she was too exhausted. Not enough time in the gym, Cathline. We lay there cuddling, almost asleep for some time. I could hear the soft moans of John as his orgasm continued for some time. Well, I expected that. 'Hmm, I must go and clean myself up,' John said and he got up, looked down and screamed loudly. As planned, his dick had been replaced by a vagina. He was now all woman. The powder had obviously worn off because he broke down into tears, sobbing quietly to himself. Cathline played the concerned wife beautifully, whispering consoling words into his ears. 'I'll go and get dressed,' I said. But first, I jumped naked into the pool to wash off all that remained of John. Getting out of the other side of the pool, I ran into the house. I chose my normal attire around the house, tight cycling shorts with a T-shirt (if you've got it, flaunt it) and went back downstairs. John was still upset, but he seemed a little better. 'Listen, I need to work on a cure for this,' I said. 'How about I shout you a holiday where you can get away for a while, come to terms with the changes and all that.' John looked at me with tearful eyes. 'Why did you do it?' 'Do what?' He couldn't have known, could he? 'Make love to me, us. I never thought of you like that and certainly not Cathline.' 'I don't know. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe I'm lonely living up here on my own or maybe I just enjoy girls' company.' 'I have misjudged you Dr Bexley. You have been very kind to us, given everything you have to help us, and we would love to go on holiday,' John said. 'Excellent.' 'But what about passports and all the papers John will need?' Cathline asked. 'Leave that to me. I'll arrange everything. Just provide me with some passport photos.' 'Liz, Thanks again,' Cathline said. The day was getting on and I needed to spend the evening putting the finishing touches to my scheme. 'I'm sorry, but I want to get on this right away.' 'OK, Bye.' They both got dressed and left. Cathline was right.It was funny seeing John try to put on a bra, especially with real breasts this time. I got an email a day or so later. "Hi Lover, "John is still finding it hard living as a woman. He keeps wanting to stand up to pee, and when he forgets it just rubs it in. He has gone right off sex for the moment, but the month-long Middle East tour you shouted us has gone a long way to cheering him up. I still call him, him, because inside he still really is a man and still my husband. "I still can't work out two things. Perhaps you will be able to fill me in later on. "One. How did his dick change if I didn't give him any doses? I assume that you don't have any. Perhaps the effects of the drug are cumulative? "Two. Why did we feel so sexy that day? John simply isn't interested at the moment. Why? Did you spike our drinks, you naughty girl? "He is really looking forward to Egypt at the start and end of the tour, as am I. He also likes the name you 'chose' for him. Jane Norton it is. The passports and papers you got me really are very good and look very genuine. You'll have to tell me how you got them. On second thoughts, I don't really want to know. "See you in a month or so, lover. "Cathline." Two days before I was due to leave, I cast my mind back to that fateful day so long ago. Did he really deserve the treatment I was about to give him? The answer was a firm YES. My stupid-sounding last words to him came back to me. 'You will marry me, you will marry me.' How could I make him live those words? Although I enjoyed being with women, deep down I still preferred men. I could see no way that I could make him heed those words every day of his life. This upset me. Two or more years of planning, countless lives wrecked, and my new lover's destruction well on the way, and this one little thing caused the whole plan to be on very shaky ground indeed. So I did what I usually did when I wanted to think clearly. I pushed myself to the limits of my physical stamina and ability. Through the haze and pain of physical exhaustion, the solution came to me. I could just switch places with Kat. In that way, he would be married to me, but I didn't like this for a couple of reasons. One, I had no intention of remaining Kat forever, and two, there's no punishment in that for him. There had to be another way. To marry someone is to become one with. For HIM to become one with me would be to BECOME me. There was still time. A quick trip to Rhamnus and my schedules should only be a day or so out. The next day, still feeling a little tired, I took the trip to Rhamnus and set about re-doing his dosages, this time with my DNA. It didn't actually take that long because all I had to do was to remove Kat's sequences and replace it with my own. A day later and I was ready to go. The flight over was uneventful, but pleasant. I had first thought of using Dad's new Lear jet, but this way was better. I could slip out of the country either as Kat or one of my other guises and not have to worry about any awkward questions. Now my timing was off by one day, but that was no real hardship. It would just mean I would have to change in one single go, rather than split it over a couple of days. All that time in the gym and the pool would pay dividends now. I had to change before I met my contact. I didn't want to be seen in my natural shape. That would pose too many problems. Especially with Cathline and John hanging around Cairo for a week. The worst would have been to be seen by HIM and the real Kat, but they wouldn't arrive for another day. Plenty of time. It's the bottom of the ninth, and still all to play for.. The plane landed, and I emerged into brilliant sunshine. Much to my relief, my bag wasn't lost, although all my important stuff was in my hand luggage. A tense moment came at customs when my bag was searched, but the pills aroused little suspicion. A doctor can have medicine with her, can't she? I didn't really want to check in my hotel as me. A tall, auburn-haired lady goes in, a shorter, black-haired one comes out. Far too risky. Besides, my second set of false papers would ensure that everything checked out. A taxi took me to downtown Cairo, and I must admit to being nervous at the things to come. I had to lie low until night in case John and Cathline saw me, and in all the crowds that was not a difficult task, apart from being one of the tallest women around. When night came and the streets were quiet, I found a secluded spot in which to change. Quickly checking that I had the right pill, I took it. Hoping that it would work on me. Yuck! I could have made a mint-flavored one. I didn't have long to wait, and I sat down waiting for the changes to occur. My whole body felt strange, but it was in the area of my legs that felt the weirdest. Under my jeans, I saw flesh begin to ripple and change as my legs shrank and reformed. Their shape was subtly different from my old legs, but nice enough, I suppose. My arms were the next to go, and they changed shape in a similar way to my legs. Kat's hands were a little different from mine, but still, all was going to plan. My head felt very woozy, and I had to shut my eyes. My long auburn hair pulled away from my shoulders and turned raven black. I could feel something going on in my face. So far, the change had been painless. I checked my watch hanging loosely around my new wrist. Just over five minutes gone... Looking down at my breasts, I saw them begin to change shape. Kat's may be a little larger than mine, I guess, but, from what I had seen of John's, they were very nice. The drug forced me to sleep for a few minutes as my body shape and hips reformed into those of Kat's. When I awoke, I got out my small makeup mirror. Fucking Amazing. Kat's green eyes and feline-like features looked back at me. Checking my watch, and fastening it up tight again, showed that it had taken 20 minutes for me to turn into Kat. 'Hello, Dear Kat,' I said in my new voice. The world looked different from three inches smaller, but I hoped I'd get used to it. As I walked away and hailed a cab, a sudden wave of tiredness hit me. I would need my rest tonight. I had room 117 in the Cairo Holiday Inn. I would have liked the Luxor or Hilton, but these were taken by my stooges. Anyway, the room was nice enough for a day or so. I crashed out and didn't wake until 11 am the next morning. The next day was the 20th of July. Kat and HIM would be married that day. The thought of it made me bitter, but my new reflection in the mirror gave me comfort. Everything was going as planned. A knock at the door, and a swarthy cop walked in. This was to be my contact. 'Are you Nemesis?' he asked in accented English. 'I am,' I said. 'What is your codeword?' 'Tyche, and yours?' I said. 'Hermes,' came the reply. 'Excellent, tell me of the preparations here.' 'The man with a girl who looks like you will be taken tonight. He will be drugged with the drug you sent us and then returned one day later.' He said slowly. 'And the girl with him? Jane Norton, now Stephens?' I asked. 'She will be taken when she next leaves her hotel. This is to be done after the man is returned. She is to be made to take the pill which you will give me,' the cop said, waiting for me to do so. I reached into my bag and got out the required pill and gave it to him. 'Please continue.' 'She is then to be sold to the nearest Harem, and we can keep whatever she brings at the auction.' 'And their hotel room?' I asked. 'The recording devices are in place, Mistress Nemesis,' he replied. 'Excellent. Do you remember your other instructions?' 'Yes, a lady, whose photo you are to provide, is also to be taken and sold to another Harem in Libya. Again, we can keep whatever she raises. You have the photo?' Again, I reached into my bag. Goodbye, Cathline. I'm sorry it had to end this way, but life's a bitch. Serves you right for trying to use me. I gave him the photo. 'And the lady with her, who also looks like me?' 'She will be given false leads on this lady's location until she can return home when you indicate,' the cop said. That sorts John out as well. I just hope he survives the flight back. 'You realize the penalty for failure?' I asked. 'Yes, mistress. We will not fail. We of the guild have never failed.' And with that, he left. I lay in bed, trying out my new body. Although I missed my proper body, this one had its compensations. The breasts were a little larger, which I enjoyed, and her green eyes were very sexy. As I stimulated my new cunt, I marveled at the new set of sensations that came with this new body. Kat's orgasms felt different from mine, less frantic, but just as intense. The next day, a different man, this time a bellboy, was at my door. 'Nemesis?' he said. We exchanged codewords as before. 'The man was taken and drugged last night and will be kept for another 15 hours. Here are the parcels you asked for.' 'Thank you. You remember what to do?' 'Yes, I will tell the police that I saw you put a parcel through a door. I will do this when you tell me.' 'What about the lady we sold to a Harem in Libya?' 'That was performed without a hitch. She made nearly three hundred thousand dollars. The Harem she was sold into was a cruel one. Her companion has been led to believe she is now in Syria, and then, after about three weeks, he will be led back to America.' 'Perfect, That will be all.' The parcels contained photos of the wedding and how Kat now had her hair. Thankfully, my version was very similar and could easily be re-styled. The bugs in their room would ensure I would be kept updated on all the goings-on before I could make the switch. Some time later, and it was time for me to move. I put on a long flowing brown skirt (it would have been knee-length on the real me, but never mind).A white blouse came next (I think I'll keep her breasts, I thought). Taking the parcel with me, I went to the Luxor Hotel. The room was easy to find, and the parcel was easy to put through the door. I could hear nothing from inside, but I knew from the bugs that the kidnap had gone well. Now all I had to do was wait back at my hotel. I felt euphoric at the recording of the conversation held between Kat and HIM. It was working. Everything was working just as I planned. His fevers, the genetic changes. His despair at his situation was just icing on the cake. Kat, to give her credit, was trying to help, but I'm afraid there was nothing she could do to combat my brilliance. I was glad I was getting rid of Kat, she's very resourceful but all her deductions would, alas, come too late. Before I made the swap, I checked once more that everything was OK. I re-read my list again to ensure that I hadn't missed anything. James/Jane: Safely locked away. He cannot possibly link me with these events. Cathline: In A Harem by now. With no chance of escape. My American Friends: All Kitties. The surviving ones, if any, only know me by the name Deianeira. There is no chance of the calls being traced. Vickie Turner: She knows about all the projects at the lab. She could be a danger, but the device my 'friends' planted in the power regulators and halon tanks at the lab will sort her out. A nice clean blast, using Fuel Air Explosives, will produce a small tactical nuke size boom. Be careful, Vickie, I'm watching. John: Scooting around the Middle East, trying to find Cathline. I don't envy him trying to get this done in a culture where women are looked on as second rate. See things to do later list. The Guild: Knows me only as Nemesis and in Kat form. Even I couldn't stand up against the guild. So they will remain human. In any case, for them, reputation is everything and they would rather die than talk. Kat: About to be altered and sold into slavery in about 10 minutes. I think she will set a new record price when she is sold. This will keep the guild more than happy. HIM: Slowly but surely turning into me. Things to do: John - Make sure 'John' is on the plane when HE thinks I am. - Let him get hold of a certain tape recording. - Ensure 'John' Collects Kat's luggage. HIM - I will make sure he visits my friendly Tattooist. This will accomplish three things: 1. Humiliation for him. 2. Identification purposes for when I get my body back. 3. Prevents him using the equipment at Rhamnus, if he finds out about it. - If he's as clever as I thought, then he will suss me out. I can then put my proposal to him. Expect him to do anything to try and get out of it. - When he is asleep, program in fail-safe codes to ensure his compliance and my safety. - Make sure he is on the verge of despair, and leave him plenty of time to be alone. This will speed up the process and make him blame himself for his lack of self-control. Me - Leave HIM on various pretexts. Let one be an argument. - Arrange 'to do' list when away from him. - Switch with the real Kat. - Ensure I change face and identity before leaving Egypt. - Make Cassette recording of my final conversation to ensure HIS compliance. - Switch last pill with a fixer pill. - Get out some more gray powder. - Keep up to date on all the above. - Remember to give HIM airline tickets and passport in the name of Dr. Elizabeth Bexley. - When I return, I may have to disappear for a while. I like my house, but I mustn't return there as me if it's not safe to do so. Maybe I'll become a supermodel and buy it back in a year or so. New Zealand sounds nice in the meantime. An island would be nicer though. I thought that was all. From now on I would have to roll with the punches. The phone rang. I answered, 'Hello?' 'Hello, Nemesis. This is Hermes. We have the Kat you asked for. She has been given the drug and she is going to be sold tomorrow. I will leave her clothes and jewelry at the reception desk. All other plans are in place.' 'Excellent. Keep her safe, and don't be surprised if she looks different in the light of day.' That was it, all done. I took Kat's clothes from reception and went back upstairs. I must admit to having a little cry when I saw Kat's wedding ring on my finger. 'Come on Liz, no time for sentimentality,' I said softly. I put on Kat's other clothes and left the hotel. I was silent in the cab to the Luxor hotel. The taxi driver tried to talk to me in broken English, but I was having none of it. He pulled up outside the Luxor hotel, and I gave him a generous tip. I cautiously knocked on the door. No reply. I took Kat's room key and went inside. He was laying on the floor, obviously unconscious. He looked the same as I remembered him, maybe a little more muscular, but that would help my cause. His legs were certainly not the same as I remembered them, as they were long, shapely and very feminine. I looked down at my 'Kat' legs and then at his. I was a little jealous. He slowly stirred, and his eyes opened. 'What did you do? You took one, didn't you?' I said, looking very concerned. 'No, two,' and HE explained his (flawed) reasoning to me. 'You stupid idiot!' I shrieked, 'Can't you see the narcotic is adjusting your thought patterns and probably your math to allow it to fool you into speeding up the transformation? That's how Elizabeth was to stop you from dying, by making the drug seduce you into giving your body enough time to rest by making you take a multiple dose.' 'What have I done?' He started to sob. 'How long?' 'About five hours.' 'Can I stay and watch?' I asked with a curious look. 'I've always wanted to see a body change.' 'You are sick!' was his bitter reply. 'No, just curious,' I said with a mischievous grin. At that moment, he started to convulse, and he lost consciousness again. Interesting how the body forces sleep to preserve energy. Hang on a second, I thought, I can see ripples under his body. Yes, his body is changing. The sound of bones rearranging was horrible (did I sound like that when I got Kat's body?). His muscular torso was now changing, becoming tauter as his muscles and flesh reshaped to fit his new bone structure. I watched, fascinated, as curves formed, as did my firm, flat stomach. I noticed that his body was taking on the same shape as I had when I donated the DNA. Could be useful for an eternal youth drug maybe? His body now very much resembled my old one, but my hand pressed to his chest showed that his internal organs were still changing. This meant that he should be out for a while. I took the opportunity to listen to the previous conversations between HIM and Kat that I had missed. It sounded like I had got rid of Kat just in time. Another day or so and she may have rumbled me, smart girl. He awoke sometime later. 'Which bit?' He managed to say. 'That was amazing! I have never seen anything like it,' I said. I recalled some lines from a song I heard a long time ago. 'You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs. The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear, who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity, sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity. 'You who I directed with a lover's will, you who I let hypnotize the lens. You who I let bathe in the spotlight's glare. You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask, just like a greasepaint mask. 'But now I'm your snake in the grass, the ghost of film reels past. I'm the producer of your nightmare, and the performance has just begun, it's just begun...'

Part 10 of 37

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/4911.txt

Darkside

Birth Of Nemesis

'I'm not sure,' John said. 'Look here, John, or is it Jane? You've nothing I haven't seen hundreds of times, and since you cannot corrupt someone who is already "evil and corrupt," I don't see that it makes a difference. Come on, live a little. All my servants are gone for the evening, so we are completely alone,' I said. 'And besides, you have been eyeing me up since you got here,' I added. 'OK, what have I got to lose?' he said. As Cathline stripped off, revealing her comely form (how I had missed that these past few weeks), John did the same. He really did look a funny sight, just like dear Kat, but with no breasts or vagina. His male organ hung down, looking very lost on his curvy form. 'The sweater didn't do you justice,' I said to John. 'That's your opinion,' he retorted. We swam around for a while until Cathline dunked my head under water in a playful fashion. As I swam up, I allowed myself a quick stroke up her thigh. Her shiver that followed was not because of the cold. I chased after her in the pool, easily out-swimming her, and began to dunk her in the same way. 'That's no way to treat my wife,' I heard John say as he swam over and tried to dunk me. Being taller and stronger than him, he had no chance. I "accidentally" brushed my leg over his cock, and looking down at the once limp organ expand, I knew that he was getting turned on. I got out of the pool and ran swiftly to the other side to avoid my water-bound pursuers. Just as I was about to dive in, I heard a yelp from John. 'My God! My God! My God!' he was saying. Cathline pulled him over to one side and shouted, 'Look, Liz!' I stared at his chest. His nipples did seem a little larger than before, and I could see the beginnings of breasts beginning to form on his chest. Well-timed, Cath, I thought. His hands were clutching at his ever-swelling bosom, whilst his face looked down in disbelief. We pulled him out of the pool, noticing that his chest now sprouted two, proud and firm female breasts. His nipples were erect from arousal rather than the cold. Cathline put her hand to one of her husband's "assets" and stroked a nipple. This was a moment between wife and wife, I guess. His response was 'Hmmm. That's very nice!' and he reached up and planted a kiss firmly on the teat of her nipple. I coughed, not wanting to be left out in all this. 'That was incredible,' I said. My words fell on deaf ears as the couple continued their passionate session. I had noticed her hand stroking his breasts in the same way as she did mine. I was surprised that he did not react in a stronger way to suddenly growing breasts, but I suspect that my gray powder was the reason behind it. Her hand was stroking his cock, and the other, his breasts. He was almost inactive, his face red with pleasure. He was either resting or overwhelmed at the sensations he could now feel. 'Is he all right?' I said a little louder. Again, my only answer was increased passion from the couple. He had woken up from his earlier "trance" and was gently touching her around her clitoris. She began to moan softly as his finger went inside her. I had had enough of this and decided to join in. If you can't beat them, join them. John's face looked startled to feel another pair of hands begin to stroke him. Cathline's response was to say, 'Come on in.' I stripped off my costume and saw with some pleasure that John's eyes were wide, ogling my long legs, curved, perfectly muscled body, and full, but let me assure you, very firm breasts. Cathline made room for me, and I was soon made to feel welcome as a hand (I think it was John's!) stroked my thigh. I began to respond, touching him in kind. I couldn't help but note down the finer details of Kat's body, knowing that I must become familiar with every part of it. Cathline was feeling left out and so said, 'John, what do you say we pay the hostess back for her hospitality?' 'Agreed,' he panted. With the combined strength of two of them, I had no chance as they rolled me onto my back. Cathline pinned my arms, her breasts just nudging my face. John's legs pinned mine, spread outwards, revealing my pussy to the world. He began to kiss my torso, and I became very much aroused. I started to nibble Cathline's tits. I could feel myself getting very wet as John began to touch my clit. I moaned, louder and louder, as I felt his fingers go inside me. I tried to move my hands and legs, but they were held firm as my two lovers continued. 'Let's really thank her,' John said. I saw John begin to move into a more upright position, his new breasts tauntingly out of reach. I could see from the way he was going to move that he wanted to fuck me. Why do men always want to penetrate so quickly? Still, in a few weeks, he'd have to learn differently. I was so moist that he slipped inside with almost no fuss, and, ohhhh! It had been too long since a man had had me. Cathline was now touching, stroking, and caressing John's face, body, and breasts, and he was kissing her as well. He began to move inside me, his now fully erect dick rubbing against my clit. Suddenly, my hand was free, and Cathline's pussy was exposed. I touched its moist, warm clit, and she almost jumped. 'Ratbag!' She teased, and with her spare hand began to caress my breasts again. John was now thrusting with all his might. His womanly voice moaning 'yes!' ever louder. Once again, we were in concert. When this was all over, I would have to arrange for another threesome with someone else! All three of us reached orgasm together, our bodies shaking and flushed with the waves of pleasure. The warm, wet feeling inside me told me that John had just come, and he collapsed on top of me, too spent to move. Cathline and I continued for a while, and I offered to give her a good licking, but she was too exhausted. Not enough time in the gym, Cathline. We lay there cuddling, almost asleep for some time. I could hear the soft moans of John as his orgasm continued for some time. Well, I expected that. 'Hmm, I must go and clean myself up,' John said, and he got up, looked down, and screamed loudly. As planned, his dick had been replaced by a vagina. He was now all woman. The powder had obviously worn off because he broke down into tears, sobbing quietly to himself. Cathline played the concerned wife beautifully, whispering consoling words into his ears. 'I'll go and get dressed,' I said. But first, I jumped naked into the pool to wash off all that remained of John. Getting out of the other side of the pool, I ran into the house. I chose my normal attire around the house, tight cycling shorts with a T-shirt (if you've got it, flaunt it), and went back downstairs. John was still upset, but he seemed a little better. 'Listen, I need to work on a cure for this,' I said. 'How about I shout you a holiday where you can get away for a while, come to terms with the changes and all that?' John looked at me with tearful eyes. 'Why did you do it?' 'Do what?' He couldn't have known, could he? 'Make love to me, us. I never thought of you like that and certainly not Cathline.' 'I don't know. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe I'm lonely living up here on my own, or maybe I just enjoy girls' company.' 'I have misjudged you, Dr. Bexley. You have been very kind to us, given everything you have to help us, and we would love to go on holiday,' John said. 'Excellent.' 'But what about passports and all the papers John will need?' Cathline asked. 'Leave that to me. I'll arrange everything. Just provide me with some passport photos.' 'Liz, Thanks again,' Cathline said. The day was getting on, and I needed to spend the evening putting the finishing touches to my scheme. 'I'm sorry, but I want to get on this right away.' 'OK, Bye.' They both got dressed and left. Cathline was right. It was funny seeing John try to put on a bra, especially with real breasts this time. I got an email a day or so later. "Hi Lover, "John is still finding it hard living as a woman. He keeps wanting to stand up to pee, and when he forgets, it just rubs it in. He has gone right off sex for the moment, but the month-long Middle East tour you shouted us has gone a long way to cheering him up. I still call him 'him' because inside, he still really is a man and still my husband. "I still can't work out two things. Perhaps you will be able to fill me in later on. "One. How did his dick change if I didn't give him any doses? I assume that you don't have any. Perhaps the effects of the drug are cumulative? "Two. Why did we feel so sexy that day? John simply isn't interested at the moment. Why?"Did you spike our drinks, you naughty girl? "He is really looking forward to Egypt at the start and end of the tour, as am I. He also likes the name you 'chose' for him. Jane Norton it is. The passports and papers you got me really are very good and look very genuine. You'll have to tell me how you got them. On second thoughts, I don't really want to know. "See you in a month or so, lover. "Cathline." Two days before I was due to leave, I cast my mind back to that fateful day so long ago. Did he really deserve the treatment I was about to give him? The answer was a firm yes. My stupid-sounding last words to him came back to me: 'You will marry me, you will marry me.' How could I make him live those words? Although I enjoyed being with women, deep down I still preferred men. I could see no way that I could make him heed those words every day of his life. This upset me. Two or more years of planning, countless lives wrecked, and my new lover's destruction well on the way, and this one little thing caused the whole plan to be on very shaky ground indeed. So I did what I usually did when I wanted to think clearly. I pushed myself to the limits of my physical stamina and ability. Through the haze and pain of physical exhaustion, the solution came to me. I could just switch places with Kat. In that way, he would be married to me, but I didn't like this for a couple of reasons. One, I had no intention of remaining Kat forever, and two, there's no punishment in that for him. There had to be another way. To marry someone is to become one with. For HIM to become one with me would be to BECOME me. There was still time. A quick trip to Rhamnus and my schedules should only be a day or so out. The next day, still feeling a little tired, I took the trip to Rhamnus and set about re-doing his dosages, this time with my DNA. It didn't actually take that long because all I had to do was to remove Kat's sequences and replace it with my own. A day later and I was ready to go. The flight over was uneventful, but pleasant. I had first thought of using Dad's new Lear jet, but this way was better. I could slip out of the country either as Kat or one of my other guises and not have to worry about any awkward questions. Now my timing was off by one day, but that was no real hardship. It would just mean I would have to change in one single go, rather than split it over a couple of days. All that time in the gym and the pool would pay dividends now. I had to change before I met my contact. I didn't want to be seen in my natural shape. That would pose too many problems. Especially with Cathline and John hanging around Cairo for a week. The worst would have been to be seen by HIM and the real Kat, but they wouldn't arrive for another day. Plenty of time. It's the bottom of the ninth, and still all to play for. The plane landed, and I emerged into brilliant sunshine. Much to my relief, my bag wasn't lost, although all my important stuff was in my hand luggage. A tense moment came at customs when my bag was searched, but the pills aroused little suspicion. A doctor can have medicine with her, can't she? I didn't really want to check in my hotel as me. A tall, auburn-haired lady goes in, a shorter, black-haired one comes out. Far too risky. Besides, my second set of false papers would ensure that everything checked out. A taxi took me to downtown Cairo, and I must admit to being nervous at the things to come. I had to lie low until night in case John and Cathline saw me, and in all the crowds, that was not a difficult task, apart from being one of the tallest women around. When night came and the streets were quiet, I found a secluded spot in which to change. Quickly checking that I had the right pill, I took it. Hoping that it would work on me. Yuck! I could have made a mint-flavored one. I didn't have long to wait, and I sat down waiting for the changes to occur. My whole body felt strange, but it was in the area of my legs that felt the weirdest. Under my jeans, I saw flesh begin to ripple and change as my legs shrank and reformed. Their shape was subtly different from my old legs, but nice enough, I suppose. My arms were the next to go, and they changed shape in a similar way to my legs. Kat's hands were a little different from mine, but still, all was going to plan. My head felt very woozy, and I had to shut my eyes. My long auburn hair pulled away from my shoulders and turned raven black. I could feel something going on in my face. So far, the change had been painless. I checked my watch hanging loosely around my new wrist. Just over five minutes gone... Looking down at my breasts, I saw them begin to change shape. Kat's may be a little larger than mine, I guess, but, from what I had seen of John's, they were very nice. The drug forced me to sleep for a few minutes as my body shape and hips reformed into those of Kat's. When I awoke, I got out my small makeup mirror. Fucking amazing. Kat's green eyes and feline-like features looked back at me. Checking my watch, and fastening it up tight again, showed that it had taken 20 minutes for me to turn into Kat. 'Hello, Dear Kat,' I said in my new voice. The world looked different from three inches smaller, but I hoped I'd get used to it. As I walked away and hailed a cab, a sudden wave of tiredness hit me. I would need my rest tonight. I had room 117 in the Cairo Holiday Inn. I would have liked the Luxor or Hilton, but these were taken by my stooges. Anyway, the room was nice enough for a day or so. I crashed out and didn't wake until 11 am the next morning. The next day was the 20th of July. Kat and HIM would be married that day. The thought of it made me bitter, but my new reflection in the mirror gave me comfort. Everything was going as planned. A knock at the door, and a swarthy cop walked in. This was to be my contact. 'Are you Nemesis?' he asked in accented English. 'I am,' I said. 'What is your codeword?' 'Tyche, and yours?' I said. 'Hermes,' came the reply. 'Excellent, tell me of the preparations here.' 'The man with a girl who looks like you will be taken tonight. He will be drugged with the drug you sent us and then returned one day later.' He said slowly. 'And the girl with him? Jane Norton, now Stephens?' I asked. 'She will be taken when she next leaves her hotel. This is to be done after the man is returned. She is to be made to take the pill which you will give me,' the cop said, waiting for me to do so. I reached into my bag and got out the required pill and gave it to him. 'Please continue.' 'She is then to be sold to the nearest Harem, and we can keep whatever she brings at the auction.' 'And their hotel room?' I asked. 'The recording devices are in place, Mistress Nemesis,' he replied. 'Excellent. Do you remember your other instructions?' 'Yes, a lady, whose photo you are to provide, is also to be taken and sold to another Harem in Libya. Again, we can keep whatever she raises. You have the photo?' Again, I reached into my bag. Goodbye, Cathline. I'm sorry it had to end this way, but life's a bitch. Serves you right for trying to use me. I gave him the photo. 'And the lady with her, who also looks like me?' 'She will be given false leads on this lady's location until she can return home when you indicate,' the cop said. That sorts John out as well. I just hope he survives the flight back. 'You realize the penalty for failure?' I asked. 'Yes, mistress. We will not fail. We of the guild have never failed.' And with that, he left. I lay in bed, trying out my new body. Although I missed my proper body, this one had its compensations. The breasts were a little larger, which I enjoyed, and her green eyes were very sexy. As I stimulated my new cunt, I marveled at the new set of sensations that came with this new body. Kat's orgasms felt different from mine, less frantic, but just as intense. The next day, a different man, this time a bellboy, was at my door. 'Nemesis?' he said. We exchanged codewords as before. 'The man was taken and drugged last night and will be kept for another 15 hours. Here are the parcels you asked for.' 'Thank you. You remember what to do?' 'Yes, I will tell the police that I saw you put a parcel through a door. I will do this when you tell me.' 'What about the lady we sold to a Harem in Libya?' 'That was performed without a hitch. She made nearly three hundred thousand dollars. The Harem she was sold into was a cruel one. Her companion has been led to believe she is now in Syria, and then, after about three weeks, he will be led back to America.' 'Perfect, that will be all.' The parcels contained photos of the wedding and how Kat now had her hair. Thankfully, my version was very similar and could easily be re-styled. The bugs in their room would ensure I would be kept updated on all the goings-on before I could make the switch. Some time later, and it was time for me to move. I put on a long flowing brown skirt (it would have been knee-length on the real me, but never mind). A white blouse came next (I think I'll keep her breasts, I thought). Taking the parcel with me, I went to the Luxor Hotel. The room was easy to find, and the parcel was easy to put through the door. I could hear nothing from inside, but I knew from the bugs that the kidnap had gone well. Now all I had to do was wait back at my hotel. I felt euphoric at the recording of the conversation held between Kat and HIM. It was working. Everything was working just as I planned. His fevers, the genetic changes. His despair at his situation was just icing on the cake. Kat, to give her credit, was trying to help, but I'm afraid there was nothing she could do to combat my brilliance. I was glad I was getting rid of Kat; she's very resourceful, but all her deductions would, alas, come too late. Before I made the swap, I checked once more that everything was OK. I re-read my list again to ensure that I hadn't missed anything. James/Jane.Safely locked away. He cannot possibly link me with these events. Cathline. In a harem by now. With no chance of escape. My American Friends. All Kitties. The surviving ones, if any, only know me by the name Deianeira. There is no chance of the calls being traced. Vickie Turner. She knows about all the projects at the lab. She could be a danger, but the device my 'friends' planted in the power regulators and halon tanks at the lab will sort her out. A nice clean blast, using Fuel Air Explosives, will produce a small tactical nuke-size boom. Be careful, Vickie, I'm watching. John. Scooting around the Middle East, trying to find Cathline. I don't envy him trying to get this done in a culture where women are looked on as second-rate. See things to do later list. The Guild. Knows me only as Nemesis and in Kat form. Even I couldn't stand up against the guild. So they will remain human. In any case, for them, reputation is everything and they would rather die than talk. Kat. About to be altered and sold into slavery in about 10 minutes. I think she will set a new record price when she is sold. This will keep the guild more than happy. HIM. Slowly but surely turning into me. Things to do John - Make sure 'John' is on the plane when HE thinks I am. - Let him get hold of a certain tape recording. - Ensure 'John' Collects Kat's luggage. HIM - I will make sure he visits my friendly Tattooist. This will accomplish three things: 1. Humiliation for him. 2. Identification purposes for when I get my body back. 3. Prevents him using the equipment at Rhamnus, if he finds out about it. - If he's as clever as I thought, then he will suss me out. I can then put my proposal to him. Expect him to do anything to try and get out of it. - When he is asleep, program in fail-safe codes to ensure his compliance and my safety. - Make sure he is on the verge of despair, and leave him plenty of time to be alone. This will speed up the process and make him blame himself for his lack of self-control. Me - Leave HIM on various pretexts. Let one be an argument. - Arrange 'to do' list when away from him. - Switch with the real Kat. - Ensure I change face and identity before leaving Egypt. - Make Cassette recording of my final conversation to ensure HIS compliance. - Switch last pill with a fixer pill. - Get out some more gray powder. - Keep up to date on all the above. - Remember to give HIM airline tickets and passport in the name of Dr Elizabeth Bexley. - When I return I may have to disappear for a while. I like my house, but I mustn't return there as me if it's not safe to do so. Maybe I'll become a supermodel and buy it back in a year or so. New Zealand sounds nice in the meantime. An island would be nicer though. I thought that was all. From now on I would have to roll with the punches. The phone rang. I answered, 'Hello?' 'Hello, Nemesis. This is Hermes. We have the Kat you asked for. She has been given the drug and she is going to be sold tomorrow. I will leave her clothes and jewelry at the reception desk. All other plans are in place.' 'Excellent. Keep her safe, and don't be surprised if she looks different in the light of day.' That was it all done. I took Kat's clothes from reception and went back upstairs. I must admit to having a little cry when I saw Kat's wedding ring on my finger. 'Come on Liz, no time for sentimentality,' I said softly. I put on Kat's other clothes and left the hotel. I was silent in the cab to the Luxor hotel. The taxi driver tried to talk to me in broken English, but I was having none of it. He pulled up outside the Luxor hotel and I gave him a generous tip. I cautiously knocked on the door. No reply. I took Kat's room key and went inside. He was laying on the floor, obviously unconscious. He looked the same as I remembered him, maybe a little more muscular, but that would help my cause. His legs were certainly not the same as I remembered them, as they were long, shapely and very feminine. I looked down at my 'Kat' legs and then at his. I was a little jealous. Hang on a second, I thought, I can see ripples under his body. Yes, his body is changing. The sound of bones rearranging was horrible (did I sound like that when I got Kat's body?). His muscular torso was now changing, becoming tauter as his muscles and flesh reshaped to fit his new bone structure. I watched, fascinated, as curves formed, as did my firm, flat stomach. I noticed that his body was taking on the same shape as I had when I donated the DNA. Could be useful for an eternal youth drug maybe? His body now very much resembled my old one, but my hand pressed to his chest showed that his internal organs were still changing. This meant that he should be out for a while. I took the opportunity to listen to the previous conversations between HIM and Kat that I had missed. It sounded like I had got rid of Kat just in time. Another day or so and she may have rumbled me, smart girl. I noticed he was coming round, and was moaning softly. His eyes opened and he stared at me. 'What did you do? You took one, didn't you?' I said, looking very concerned. I recalled some lines from a song I heard a long time ago. 'You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs. The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear, who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity, sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity. 'You who I directed with a lover's will, you who I let hypnotize the lens. You who I let bathe in the spotlight's glare. You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask, just like a greasepaint mask. 'But now I'm your snake in the grass, the ghost of film reels past. I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun, it's just begun...'

Part 4/4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/4198.txt

Hell Hath No Fury

'You may not recall the moment that you asked me But your invitation was clear. You'll pretend you've never met me, but It's far too late now I'm here. Cause I'm the one who knows what scares you I'm the one who loves you best I'm the thirteenth at the table I'm the Uninvited Guest I'm the Banquo at your banquet, I'm the cuckoo in your nest I'm your fifteen stone first-footer I'm the uninvited guest I was there when you said insincere "I love you's" to a woman who wasn't your wife. And I fronted you the money that you ran away and blew on the biggest regret of your life. Cause I'm the one who knows what scares you I'm the one who loves you best I'm the thirteenth at the table I'm the Uninvited Guest I'm the Banquo at your banquet, I'm the cuckoo in your nest I'm your new years resolution I'm the uninvited guest I'm the face you hoped you'd never see but always knew you would. I'm the one thing you knew you shouldn't do but did because you could. I'm the evil in your bloodstream. I'm the rash upon your skin. And you made a big mistake alright the day you let me in. And you can fly to the other side of the world. You know you'll only find. I've reserved the seat behind you. We can talk about old times...' As the song ended Kat sat bolt upright and set the CD to repeat, after several more plays Kat saw it. What had just been an awful hunch was now reality. "My God what have we done!" Kat said out loud, her voice trembling with fear. Kat reached into her purse and took out a phone number and dialed it. After the call Kat was more sure than ever but before she could explore it further there was a knock at the door. "Hey, turn that down. You're getting obsessed by that song," Matthew said, walking into the room. "Listen!" And Kat played the song once more. "So?" Matthew queried. "Don't you see it? It's so obvious now. Sure it's brilliant, her masterstroke," Kat exclaimed. "I'm a little stupid today, explain it," Matthew asked. "Get Robert and Cathline in here," Kat asked. "What about Steph?" Matthew said. "For fuck's sake, don't get Stephanie. Whatever you do, don't talk to her," Kat said sternly. "Why?" "Just get the rest and make sure Stephanie is out of the way," Kat said. "If you say so," Matthew said and walked out.They then told me Stephanie Lane liked her coffee white with a single sugar. However, recently she's been having it black without. I also asked them if Stephanie Lane had missed any internal flights recently and was she unhappy with the service. They answered that the only internal flight Stephanie had caught was on time, and she flew out after a morning meeting. If you remember, Stephanie stated that she had missed a flight because of a meeting and had to catch a later one. In other words, she lied about when she flew out to meet us. She would have had ample time to set off the explosives at the lab and wreck our cars," Kat said. "Kat, this all sounds very convincing. You're telling us that you worked all this out just now, from this one song," Cathline said skeptically. "No, I'd been suspicious for some time. It seemed so right that Liz was Monica, but somehow it didn't FEEL right. As I've said before, it was TOO obvious. Liz is too good to make it that clear. I've been working things out bit by bit, afraid to say anything in case it alerted Stephanie. It didn't all click into place until I heard this part of the song: 'And you can fly to the other side of the world You know you'll only find I've reserved the seat behind you We can talk about old times...' Who sat behind Matthew on the flight over? Easy, Cathline and Stephanie," Kat announced. "Still sounds suspicious to me," Cathline said. "I think it makes perfect sense. As Stephanie, she could keep an eye on us and steer us in whatever direction she wanted. As our greatest resource, she could bring about our downfall," Kat said. "This is all circumstantial evidence. It fits, but only because you've made it fit," Robert said. "I've thought of that. What do you say we lure Stephanie to the bunker, tie her up, and then confront her as though she were Liz? Make out that we know all about it and try to get her to admit it. If she's not Liz, then fair enough, I'm wrong; otherwise, we have her," Kat said. "Sounds good to me," Matthew said. "It's the only way to be sure!" Robert said. "Right, Mat, you go get Stephanie and tell her Cathline's managed to activate the DNA system and we need her in the bunker. The rest of us will lay in wait," Kat directed. It took Matthew an hour to find Stephanie. She was sitting on a rock looking out to sea. "Hi, Steph," Matthew said. "Hi, what's happening?" "I've been asked to tell you that Cathline has managed to activate the DNA system. She wants you to come and help." Stephanie gave a surprised look. "Really? I thought the security systems were too good." "Apparently not. Race you back," Matthew said and sprinted off. They arrived, breathless, at the bunker. Matthew had ensured that Stephanie won and went down the bunker first. With a shriek, the rest of the group fell upon Stephanie. Overpowered by so many, she had no chance. They bound her hand and foot to a chair near the console. Stephanie was screaming, "What the fuck are you doing?" but soon stopped when Kat said, "Hello 'Hell Bitch', nice to meet you at last." "What the fuck are you talking about? Dr. Bexley's gone," Stephanie screamed. "I must say, it was a very, very clever move switching with Stephanie Lane," Kat said. "I'm Stephanie Lane. Kat, what are you playing at? Let me go," Stephanie said. "Listen, 'hell bitch', we know all about it. The statues in the hall, how you used a song to base some of your plans on, and how you wanted us to believe that we had turned you into a cat. Don't fuck with me, I'm not in the mood," Kat snarled. An evil smile spread across Stephanie's face. "What a clever little kitty Kat you are. I was right not to underestimate you."

Part 33 of 37

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/4937.txt

Darkside

Birth Of Nemesis

'Let him see the other side of the fence, make him understand how a woman feels. From the inside,' I said with a glint of devilment in my eyes. 'Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, that is the most horrible thing I've ever heard,' Cathline said, but her blue eyes twinkled with mischief. 'I think everything is in place. It's about time we had a human test, don't you think?' she added. 'I think so. But I'll agree on one condition only.' 'That being?' 'He only stays like it for two or three months.' 'Why? We could "fix" him. Really teach him a lesson,' I countered. 'No, I still love him and don't want to lose him forever,' she said. 'Fine, who do you want him to be? I'm sure we can get samples from anywhere,' I asked. 'What about being Jennifer for a while?' She said. 'Perfect. But I have one other condition. You must keep a diary of everything that happens so we can be sure everything has worked out all right,' I said. 'Agreed. You have Jennifer's DNA already?' 'Yes, As you know, all my employees had to give an AIDS test,' I said. 'Now we are both agreed, do you want to work out the details yourself, let me do it, or let us both plan?' I asked. 'You obviously have a wicked streak and I want to have a say, so let's meet up after work. Say about eight?' Cathline said. 'Eight it is, at my place,' I said. I had invested some of my money in a mansion, just for me. It had all the usual things associated with such a place, but it was the gym, pool, and sauna that made it special. It also had a small lab which would do any research place proud. The best thing about it, however, was its location, remote but on a hillside overlooking a beautiful wooded valley. I had held several parties for my staff there, and the servants I employed there always did a fine job. Thinking about it, John, Cathline's husband, didn't seem to like me for some reason. Oh well, he would soon have even less to like me for. 'See you later and get back to work,' I grinned. Stage 1 was now underway. Cathline came round at eight exactly, wearing what I would call a revealing outfit. Although she was somewhat shorter than me, at five-seven, her body was well-proportioned. She looked a bit like my ex-fiancee's wife-to-be. She didn't seem to have Kat's panther-like movements, but otherwise, she was a close match. Anyway, Cathline was no bitch. She was one of us. 'Who are you dating after you have seen me?' I asked. She looked down at her short lycra skirt and halter top and said, 'No-one, but the first rule of business is to dress to impress,' she said. 'I'm impressed. Now down to work,' I said. 'I've been thinking about our plan,' she said. 'Yes?' 'I don't really want him to be Jennifer anymore,' she said. My heart began to sink. 'Please don't get cold feet.' 'No, I want him to be someone I don't know. If I saw him as her, it would rub in what he did to me, for destroying my trust in him,' she said bitterly. 'Do you want me to handle that part? I know of a few ways to get DNA without the subject knowing. It would also have to be someone not local, as that would raise too many questions,' I asked. This was getting better all the time. I had just the person in mind - Kat! I would need some of her DNA for my plan anyway. This way, I could have an exact test in a controlled environment. It shouldn't take very long to get it anyway. But I won't tell Cathline who or why I choose her. 'Seems logical,' she said. Cathline moved closer to me, her legs occasionally touching mine. Was this a come-on? 'So I can choose?' I asked. 'Yep,' She agreed. 'Now I think that a normal human body will die if subjected to too much change, too quickly,' I said. 'It must be given time to recover.' 'You're the doc,' Cathline said. Her hand momentarily touched my knee. What next? 'I think a day between changes should be enough, and maybe spread the doses over 10 days,' I added. 'How will the doses be administered?' Cathline asked. This time her hand stayed on my knee. Should I brush it away? 'The injection method is fine in a laboratory, but we could use the new powdered form we have been experimenting with. This means you can give it to him any time and any how you like,' I said. The hand was resting lightly on my thigh now! 'Once he starts to change, won't he be suspicious of me?' She asked. I had expected this question and again I mentally checked off another part of my plan. Her hand was still there. Did I detect a small stroke just then??? Did I want to stop this?? 'Maybe I can tailor that narcotic you were working on before I joined. Make him lust after the thing you first put it in. I dunno, put it in his coffee or something. Then he will want coffee to relieve his cravings. You can then slip it into his coffee whenever you like,' I told her. 'Speaking of lust,' Cathline said. Before I had a chance to answer, she had pressed her moist lips onto mine and, to my surprise, I responded. I wouldn't regard myself as a lesbian or even a little bi, but something in her kiss lit my fire. Her hand stroked my leg, moving ever closer to my fanny. The sensations were unique. Part of me wanted to push her away, the other *have* her. She was supposed to be the very 'proper' Cathline, but the hands reaching up to unbutton my blouse were not doing the 'proper' thing at all. Before I could do much else, a skillful hand had undone my bra and was stroking my smooth, firm breasts. I felt flushed as my arousal grew. I began to respond in kind, stroking her firm bosom over her halter top. Her nipples grew as she became aroused, and from the fire that I felt inside, I knew that mine had just done the same. The lust began to grow, and before I knew or could control it, I had removed her skimpy top, exposing her heaving chest. 'Wait...' I panted. 'What? You don't like this?' she asked. 'YES, but we don't want to be disturbed, do we?' I said. Still not really believing what I was doing/about to do, I phoned the butler and told him dinner would be late, and that Cathline and I were not to be disturbed under *any* circumstances. 'Now where were we?' Cathline said seductively. 'About here,' I said as I held her close. Our breasts heaving together as we resumed our passionate embrace. 'Lay down,' she said, and I did so. Her tongue was caressing my body. It fondled my earlobes, then my neck and finally my by now very erect nipples. I began to moan, 'Yes, yes.' Electricity shot through me as her hand *finally*, but all too briefly, touched my pussy. I groped for the zip that held her skirt on and freed her of that article of clothing as she began to stroke my long, shapely legs again. 'About time I released you,' she crooned as my skirt was also removed. She stroked the curve of my waist, and I did the same, feeling her smooth, unblemished skin. How different this was from making love to a man! So unhurried, so understanding, so gentle and so ummmmm. 'How about a 69?' she asked. By this time, a forest fire of passion and pleasure was burning within me, and I agreed instantly. We swapped sides to form the classic shape, and although I had done this with *him*, this was unique and special. I was on top, looking down at her moist, open and aroused fanny. I went to lick her hot, open and moist pussy, but she said 'Not yet, lover.' She reached up, grasping the cheeks of my ass, and began to smother my pussy with kisses. I moaned even louder and began to sweat. As her hands stroked my thighs and her tongue very delicately began to caress the lips of my cunt, I wondered why I hadn't done this sooner. As I reached orgasm, I heard her pant, 'Now, lover.' I bent down, laying flat over her, and began to caress her pussy too. She too began to moan louder, and soon we were in concert. The rhythm of our bodies, tongues and hands, adding the baseline to our sexual tune. I tasted her for the first time, her hot musk smell arousing me more than I had been for a long time. Hmm, women tasted so different. An exploratory caress with my tongue sent us both into overdrive. As I became more experienced, our pleasure grew. This went on seemingly for hours. Each of us taking delight in each other's bodies and sensations.We both came together, something that had happened only a few times when I was with a man. As our volcanic pleasure died down and turned into a warm, satisfied glow, I really began to regret not doing this earlier. As we lay beside each other, her hand still resting on my breast, my hand gently stroking her hip, she said, 'I had no idea...' 'Neither did I. I guess we both needed each other.' It was now late and I knew we still had a lot of ground to cover. 'We have to get on, alas,' I said as I got up to get dressed. Cathline, her fun for the moment gone, did the same. 'Shame,' she grinned. 'My house has plenty of space, you could always spend the night,' I told her. Had I really just invited another woman to sleep with me? I guess I had, and I certainly had no regrets. 'We only need one room, but not tonight. What would people say if they knew I was sleeping with the boss?' Cathline said, grinning again. 'When do you want the package delivered?' I asked. 'I should be able to get the DNA within a few days. Say, make the doses during the following week,' I said, a bit disappointed. 'Fine, whatever you can do,' the lovely Cathline said. 'Let's call it a night,' I said. 'Sure you won't stay?' I asked. 'Hmm, very tempting, but no. I'll see you tomorrow.' With that, Cathline left. My mind was in a whirl. Was I really falling for this woman or was she just some unforeseen side effect? I knew that I must keep the reason why her husband cheated on her a secret, otherwise all would be lost. I admit to feeling a little guilty for using her like that, especially as she wasn't as prim and proper as she wanted people to believe. Maybe one of the reasons she wanted this type of revenge was so that she could have her husband how she really liked them, a woman. Before I went to bed, I made another call to my 'friends'. 'This is Deianeira. Status report on Jane Norton,' I asked. 'The wedding is in exactly two months.' Damn, I thought. 'Where is the honeymoon?' I asked. 'They are booked into the Luxor hotel in Cairo for three weeks right after the wedding,' the voice said. 'OK. Locate the most skilled tattoo artist in Cairo and tell him to await further instructions in around nine weeks and tell him to practice his Hydra's. Also, find me the meeting places for the local slave-trade and contact names for some 'friends' in Egypt.' 'Done. Anything else?' 'Yes, I want you to obtain a sample of Jane Norton's hair or blood. I think you should be able to persuade her doctor to let you have a sample. Say that you are AIDS testing or something. When you have done that, leave it in the usual place. I will call back in three days.' With that done, I went to bed, my mind buzzing. Only two months to go. So much to do, but first we must attend to our friends Cathline and John Richards. The next day at work, I hardly saw Cathline. I wanted to keep up the pretence of loving her so that she would not get scared off, and it would also allow me to adapt my plans to hers as they evolved. What was the saying? 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer'. The next day, I went to the pick-up place, a small cave around 100 miles south of the lab. A sample of hair was in a polythene bag. A cursory inspection showed a few live hair follicles still attached to the hair. Perfect. I was sitting alone in the canteen (after all, who wants to sit next to the boss?) when Cathline sat next to me. 'Hi,' she said. 'Hi, I've got the package if you still want it,' I said. 'Yes, I still want it. John is so apologetic, but I think he enjoyed cheating on me really,' she said. 'I should have the refined version of it ready in about a week,' I mentioned. 'Look, I've told John I'm going away for a few days to think. I would like to spend them with you.' 'Why not? We'll need privacy. I'll see you tonight,' and I gave her foot an 'accidental' brush with mine. That night, we didn't do much talking. Lots of doing, but not much talking. Although it was good, there was something missing. Maybe it was surprise. As we lay cuddling in my bed, I asked her a $64,000 question. 'Do you want your husband to be a woman for a while so that you can enjoy her instead of me?' 'Whatever makes you say that?' Was that a guilty look? 'Just a thought.' 'I'll admit that I will try it on when he's your mystery girl, but that's not my main reason.' 'Sure?' 'Positive,' and she gave my nipple a little tweak. This prompted a response from me, and soon we were at it again. This time much more frenzied but still very sensual. Why couldn't men be this sensitive? Morning came, and I made my way to work, while Cathline worked from my home. I thought back to my encounters with Cathline. Why did she seduce me so? Why so keen when she had always seemed to have the perfect marriage? I reflected back again over the events of the past couple of days. Maybe she was a little too eager to have her husband transformed. Why was this? In searching for this answer, my mind went back to THAT day, THAT hour, THAT second. Further back I went until I saw the same pattern forming. HIM being too willing to go along with my schemes and fantasies and then being hit with refusal. Cathline was playing me for a puppet, just as he had done. These thoughts began to blot out all others. Liz...CONCENTRATE! Tears, mood swings, why was I getting so upset? I can't let Cathline know I'm onto her. A day or so later, the answer came, just in the nick of time. I had thought she was different, but I could see the trap coming this time. She was just using me so that she could get what she wanted. That was it! I saw her plan instantly...Seduce me so she can turn her husband into a woman for a while. See how he likes it, drop me and go running off back to him. I would not let that happen. I began to draw up a counter to this. It was just a small diversion in the scheme of things, but it would serve as another test I wanted to perform. It would also tidy up some possible loose ends and act as additional insurance should the need arise. The sample of Kat's DNA was just right, and I made three copies of it. One for John, one for HIM, and one for me. I had no desire to undergo the kind of traumatic change that HE would have to undergo, and so I got my team to design a fast, painless version (I didn't tell them what it was really for, just that if we were to produce this stuff commercially, it should be painless). Once again, my teams came up trumps. They did everything I asked of them and more. I had realized from the early days of my plan that I would have to change places with Kat at some point in time and that the only way to do that was to become her double. This meant that I had to store copies of my own DNA somewhere safe. I also needed a backup for the equipment at the lab, and so some months previously, I had purchased a small unit just outside of town. It resembled a small warehouse and had little security. Anonymity was the best security this place could have. In any case, the DNA altering traps I had set inside should prevent unauthorized tampering. The only other security measure required me to show my torso to an image recognition system before I could use the system. I called this place 'Rhamnus' after the place where Nemesis sought sanctuary. It was at 'Rhamnus' that I spliced the final versions of the drugs I was going to use. Let me see... 10 Kat Pills for HIM. With the new intelligent narcotic built in. Plus some other concoctions. 10 Doses of Kat Powder for John with the old Narcotic (but in smaller doses than those for HIM). 1 Painless presto-changeo version for me. 1 Painless back to me version. How could I have forgotten. I now had to tailor the real Kat's final form and add some fixer to make really sure. I sat down at the terminal and thought. I would tell HIM that I could not identify Kat after her change, but I had to know what she will look like in order that I can recognize her if the need arises. A few hours in front of the GUI DNA interface, and all was complete. I pitied her in a way, so she got a painless dose too. I hoped she liked her new body... I used the interface to design a few new faces for me, if I should need them. I now reckoned I could reduce the time it takes to change faces down to 20 seconds, and make it painless too. After this, I guessed I'd be the first shapeshifter in the world. However, all this depended on how well John did. It may seem forward to produce all this first before the test, but time really was short, and I KNEW this would work. I came back from Rhamnus a few days later. To my chagrin, I had missed being with Cathline, but this had to come first. I met Cathline around my house after about a week. Why did she have to dress so revealingly in public? I didn't want the news of our affair to get out. 'All Done,' I said and passed her John's 'Kat' Doses. 'This will really work?' she asked as she passed me a sample of John's hair. 'Don't lose it.' 'In three months, he will be back to how he should be,' I said. 'Sure this will work?' Cathline asked. 'Yep. All set, apart from a couple of things.' 'Which are?' Cathline asked. 'You MUST keep a record and E-mail me every day. The detail doesn't have to be too explicit, as I don't want to get too jealous, but I must know if the drug is working OK. Also, when the change is complete, he/she will need some new papers in order to get around, credit cards, passports, drivers license, etc.''This is only for a couple of months,' Cathline confirmed. 'Yes, but you may want to go away. I may just be able to shout you a holiday as a thank you.' 'Wow! You sure?' 'Me? Short of money? Not likely. I guess you want the papers now, so that you can see what your husband will look like?' 'Yes, please, hand them over.' I handed over the papers, marveling at the work my 'friends' had managed to achieve. All the documents were identical to the real thing. 'Jane Norton, huh?' 'Yep. Cute, isn't she?' 'We look very much alike. Was that intentional?' Cathline observed. 'Kind of. I thought you will be able to share clothes rather than have to buy new outfits for her.' 'Good idea! No, Jane Norton will do just fine. I'll keep in touch when I can, but I'll tell you now that I have to be off work until this is done.' 'Fine. You're fired,' I said. 'What!!' 'Don't worry, I'll take you back on as my deputy once all this is over, but I need to be able to distance myself from this. I hope you understand.' 'Fine. See you in a couple of months, lover.' She said and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I went back into the house very satisfied. Laying down on my sofa, looking at the sun going down over my well-kept grounds, I made a call from my special phone. 'This is Deianeira. Status report.' 'Everything is in place. The wedding takes place on the 20th of July. The honeymoon destination is confirmed as Cairo.' 'And the tattoo artist?' 'Paid and waiting for further instructions.' 'What about the other packages?' 'EVERYTHING is in place,' The voice sounded a little annoyed. 'Flights booked for all involved?' 'EVERYTHING is in place' The voice sounded even more annoyed. 'Oh, and just one more thing' I outlined an additional instruction. 'Are you sure you want that done? It will cost half a million, cash.' 'Yes,' I answered. 'Consider it done, Deianeira.' 'Thank you, your payment will be in the usual place in four weeks. That will be all for now.' 'Pleasure doing business, Deianeira.' and my 'friend' hung up. My 'friends' were going to get a shock when they tried to hand out the money. I had impregnated the money with my DNA-altering drug. A couple of hours after it was dished out, there would be a few more cats in the world (The feline kind). The money would dissolve soon after. I do so hate loose ends. All the pawns were now in place. It would soon be time for the queen to move. I made another call. 'Hi, Terri. This is Liz. Is Vickie there?' 'Hold on, I'll get her,' my secretary said. 'Vickie, Listen, I'm going on a sabbatical for about four months. Can you hold the fort while I'm away? 'Bit sudden, isn't it?' Vickie replied. 'I know it's short notice, but I really NEED the time off. Unless I get a long break, I'll burn up. In any case, I know you can cope.' 'I'll try,' Vickie said. 'Terri. I authorize Vickie Turner to be my deputy in all aspects of my work until my return. I'll confirm that in writing as well. Bye.' I said. 'OK, have a good one,' Terri said. I checked my mail every day for weeks until then the message 'Incoming E-Mail' appeared on my screen. A cursory check showed it to be from some spam company offering a get-rich-quick scheme, but the UU-encoded picture it contained soon deposited an encrypted text file on my hard disk. This told me this was no spam. I applied my private key to it, and the message became clear. It read. "Change 1 "'Hi Lover It's me. If you are reading this rather than watching a jpeg of a pile of money. This means this embedded encryption system really works.' "John went ape when I told him you had fired me. He threatened to go around to your place and was saying things like 'woman or no woman no one does that to MY wife'. I managed to placate him, saying that I wanted some time off. Anyway, we can afford to wait for a few months before I start looking again." "'I've decided that I cannot wait ten days for him to change totally, I have calculated how much his body can really take based on the depth of changes. Hope you don't mind. I realize that you cannot reply, but you have to trust me on this one." I stopped reading the message for a moment. Excellent! I will need to cater for this possibility. So, Cathline, that's fine by me. I went back to the message. "'I gave the first doses to him in some pizza last night. I wanted to start off small, so I gave him her arms. Have you put in some kind of random delay? Because about an hour after he had taken them, the following occurred. "'Honey? My arms feel weird,' John said. "'Pardon?' I asked. "'They feel all itchy. Have a look,' and he showed me his arms. "And lover, as I took his hands, the flesh began to ripple. His fingers reformed, smaller, and far more dainty than before. He began to scream as his normally muscular arms began to melt away. I had seen 'cogs' and 'dats' change before, but this was mesmerizing. His muscles seemed to flow, and he grimaced in pain as I could see bone and sinew reform into some muscular but very feminine arms. "'What's happening to me?' he sobbed. He stared at his new arms for some time, obviously unable to believe his eyes. "'I don't know, but I do know that I still love you. Besides a little workout and no-one will ever notice,' I lied. "'Sure?'

Part 2/4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1997/4206.txt

Zawackyj Zabum

Demoted Into Depravity

'Bondage is a strange and thrilling experience, Angela! That girl in the photo was once just like you...shy...modest...sweetly polite. She was born to serve! It gives her pleasure...profoundly deep satisfaction. She denied this for a long time, but in the end, she had to let the truth come out. It was just a matter of finding the right person to trust with her secret. You can trust me, Angela...I know what you're thinking. I know everything about how you think...I've seen it hundreds of times in girls just like you...' Angela was mesmerized by Shane's perverse lecture. She'd heard parts of it before from the time she began working for him, but now it all seemed to make some kind of surreal sense. There was no denying that she did have unusual dreams and fantasies, but she was confused by them. For the first time in her young life, Angela felt she was listening to somebody who could see right through the sweetly innocent facade she wore, and this alarmed her, though it also aroused her in the strangest possible way. 'Have a look at her, Angela. It's like a snapshot of your thoughts. I know it is...don't deny it. Right now, you're wishing that was you in the photograph...stripped naked and vulnerable, shackled and spread helpless at the mercy of a strong, powerful master...' Angela felt her stomach twist into a guilty knot. She shivered with a rash of goosebumps, blushing as her mind reeled with confusion. It was as if her boss was brainwashing her, but she couldn't do or say anything to stop him. She wanted to make some kind of feeble joke like she usually did to change the subject, but the words just wouldn't form in her mouth. Shane was moving close to her, talking calmly in a soothing, hypnotic tone which started to alarm Angela. Her hands trembled as she gawked at the image of the woman in the photo, her own clitoris throbbing in sympathy with the sensations she imagined the anonymous woman to be having. Never before would she have allowed somebody like Shane to touch her, especially in somewhere as public as his office, but it was as if he'd somehow invaded her conscience, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't evict him or prevent him from trapping her emotions. 'We've talked about this for long enough, Angela...it's time you faced the truth and followed your feelings. You don't have to do anything special...I'll teach you all you need to know, and you do need to be taught. You're never going to be completely happy unless you give in to me...it's what you need to do...admit it...' Angela just stood there facing Shane's desk. His hot breath on the back of her neck warmed her and almost relaxed her enough to feel comfortable with his hands roaming over her hips. It was a weird seduction. He'd done it without even touching her, and now it seemed like no ceremony was necessary to get her undressed. She felt a perverse urgency, secretly wanting him to simply tear the clothes from her body. Not to sensuously disrobe her, but to quickly and roughly strip her naked while she was feeling most vulnerable and powerless. It was like a hazy, erotic dream to the timid young blonde. Her modest dress-style had always been like a false shield which nobody had ever challenged, hiding the real Angela from the world. She knew that now as Shane's fingers grappled with the zipper of her skirt. He peeled it open with the ease of a sword slicing butter, Angela demurely accepting the defeat of her sensibilities and doing nothing to resist his conquering of her. Her skirt dropping to the floor around her ankles made her think of a flag falling for some reason, and it signaled the charge of Shane's mental army. Angela became completely oblivious to the sound of the world going about its business outside of Shane's office. She was unsure of whether he'd locked the door, but it no longer mattered when he hooked his fingers into the flimsy elastic of her undies and tugged them firmly to her ankles. Her eyes became unfocused on the photo in her hand, her soft blue eyes lolling deliriously as Shane started wrestling her blouse up over her head. A moment later, it was trapped over her head, and she felt him grappling with her bra, unhitching it and pulling at it until she almost lost her balance. The blouse needed to be unbuttoned before Angela could remove it, and she stumbled blindly for a minute, tripping out of her undies and sitting her bare buttocks against Shane's desk as she wriggled and squirmed in her tangled blouse. Angela hadn't wanted to help him strip her, but it had become necessary, and she dropped the photo while she fought the blouse and slackened bra off her arms. Shane was standing in front of her smirking and grinning wildly when she finally shed her blouse. His expression confused her, and he was holding out his hand to accept her discarded clothes. Angela meekly handed them to him and then blushed, realizing she was completely naked except for her shoes and that Shane was ogling her, gawking at her pert breasts and bushy pubic mound which were completely exposed. 'Yes,' said Shane, his dark eyes flashing deviously. 'I think you're ready to start learning a few lessons.' Angela felt alarmed by the sudden menacing tone of his voice and immediately covered her nude body defensively. 'What lessons?' she mumbled, feeling acutely aware of her nakedness when she asked. 'You'll see...get dressed!' Angela felt confused and stunned. She caught her clothes, which he'd thrown back at her, but saw that he intended keeping her underwear. She felt crushed with foolishness, as if she'd just been tricked into doing something totally embarrassing, and the hasty attempts to get back into her skirt and blouse only served to accentuate her humiliation. 'From now on...no underwear!' Shane said, picking up a large pair of scissors to slice her lacy underwear to shreds. 'Um...what are you doing?' Angela gasped, her eyes nearly popping out as she watched the expensive lace being quickly reduced to ribbons. She continued straightening her clothes, anxiously pressing the creases back into her pleated skirt when the room filled with the sound of knocking at the door. 'Come in...' Shane called, not waiting to check whether his blushing, dazed secretary was ready or not. 'That'll be all, Angela...go back to your desk...' The red-faced young blonde's face was frozen in an expression of dumbstruck confusion, and she avoided the puzzled stare of Shane's partner Karl as she walked briskly from the office. She was desperate to get to the bathroom at the end of the hall and take a few moments to regain her composure, but Karl's voice stopped her in her tracks. 'Angela...I want you to come back to the warehouse with me in a minute...' Karl said in his usual, gruff Teutonic tone. 'Wait there...I won't be a minute.' The timid blonde felt her world collapsing around her as she stood impatiently just outside the office door. None of the other girls in the outer office seemed aware of what had just happened, and nor did Karl. But there was something suspicious about the way he'd asked her to accompany him.The warehouse for Shane and Karl's shipping business was in the outer suburbs, and none of the city office girls ever went there. It was sort of like a Coventry place where the city secretaries were sent when their work performance was in question, and none ever returned. Nobody ever spoke about the place, but Angela sensed something foreboding. "Are you ready?" Karl said, startling Angela when he unexpectedly appeared behind her. "Um...yes..." she stuttered. "I'll just get my handbag..." The draft of the noisy ventilation system in the underground carpark seemed to blow straight up under Angela's clothes, reminding her that she was without her underwear. Even though her blouse was modest, her bare breasts jiggled provocatively as she walked beside Karl. His sideways glances at her, which she pretended not to notice, surely noticed the embarrassing bounce of her unrestrained breasts, and this made the young blonde feel like dying with shame. She knew what men thought of girls who went braless, and she wanted to explain that she wasn't the kind of girl he probably thought because of it. But obviously this was not an option. Karl was the senior partner in the firm, and his brand new Mercedes richly displayed this. Angela smiled faintly and thanked Karl when he held open the passenger's door for her, but she felt her skin crawl a bit when he seemed to pay her breasts more than gentlemanly interest as she sat. The seatbelt strapped tightly over her chest accentuated the smooth, unholstered shape of her breasts, and, to Angela's increasing unease, Karl clearly noticed this. Nothing was said as he drove up and around the ramps leading to the exit. It wasn't until he finally navigated his way back out into the throng of busy, mid-afternoon traffic that Karl spoke. "Do you like working for PDL Transport?" he asked. "Yes..." Angela replied, trying to ignore the feelings of nakedness she felt under her clothes. "How long have you been with us now?" "It will be two years in November...I joined straight after university," Angela said, relaxing slightly at the informality. "University!" Karl said, sounding surprised. "Do you have to go to university these days to be a secretary, eh?" Angela felt a little insulted by the remark but didn't show it. "I studied for an Arts Degree...languages actually...but I didn't know what to do when I finished..." "What...so you thought you'd be a secretary until you made up your mind?" "I didn't mean it like that!" Angela quickly apologized, realizing she sounded like she was complaining about her job. "No...I love working as a secretary..." "Shane says you're a very competent one...he told me so!" Karl had a moment to stare and smile at her as he waited for the traffic lights to change color from red to green. "That's nice of him..." Angela blushed, not knowing how to receive the compliment properly in light of what Shane had just done to her. "Yes...he says you're a very clever young lady...that you'll go places in this firm..." "He does?" Angela contained her surprise enough not to sound totally incredulous. "Well...yes...I really enjoy working for him...he's a good boss." The lights changed, and Karl moved with the flow of traffic, not speaking again until he turned onto the freeway. "Enjoy working for him...that's good..." Karl chuckled softly. "Yes...he told me you're a good worker. Very cooperative. I like having an obedient staff." Angela felt a sudden rush of guilty panic at the way he said it. She knew he was hinting at something, and it filled her with dread. The car sped along the freeway, Angela staring out through the tinted glass at the quickly passing urban scenery. Again, there was a long silence. "Shane can be a bit strange at times, though," Karl said flatly. Angela's attention was immediately caught. "What do you mean?" she asked nervously. "You know!" Karl laughed heartily, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "You know...strange...unusual..." "I'm sorry, Mr. van Hauer...I'm not sure I know what you mean..." the timid blonde tried to keep her nervous voice settled as she spoke. "That's good..." Karl said, sounding pleased with her response. "I beg your pardon?" Angela relaxed slightly. "You're discreet...I like that!" Angela felt her heart jump to her mouth when he winked and grinned at her. She was immediately convinced he knew what had just happened, but still there was no way of knowing for certain without running the risk of making a complete fool of herself. "If you mean..." "I mean you value privacy...and honesty..." Karl was still avoiding the point. "Yes...honesty is a virtue!" Angela kicked herself for rattling off the cliche. "A virtue..." Karl laughed a little. "That's a charming way of putting it, Angela." Angela sheepishly returned his smile. "But it's not strictly a virtue, you know?" The smile on Angela's innocent face quickly changed to a frown, and she squirmed discreetly in her seat. "No...there are seven virtues, and honesty is not one of them..." Karl sounded an authority on the matter. "Faith is a virtue...having faith that honesty will be rewarded...you could say it's related that way..." Angela felt uncomfortable with the discussion. She tried to look attentively at him but was afraid to make eye contact. "So when I said you valued discretion, I meant it's a two-way street. If you can be discreet...I can be discreet..." Angela couldn't bring herself to ask him what he meant, but she was forced to. "Put your hand in my pocket..." Karl winked at her, nodding to the hip pocket of his jacket. "Go on...it won't bite!" The young blonde felt extremely reluctant to comply, instinctively knowing there would be some kind of unpleasant surprise in store for her. But she cautiously reached over and slipped her hand into his pocket, feeling around inside it and pulling out a handful of cloth strips that made her gasp with fright. He had the remains of her underwear in his pocket, and her reaction of dread made the wicked old man laugh out loud. "What's the matter, Angela? You look like you've seen a ghost!" he teased. "I didn't believe it...Shane said it was yours!" Angela dropped the handful of shredded lace and rushed to put her hand over her shocked mouth. He'd tricked her, and she'd fallen into his trap. There'd be no way of denying that she wasn't wearing any underwear at all. He'd already noticed the absence of her bra, and it would be impossible now to convince him she had anything on under her skirt. For the second time in one day, Angela felt the burning rash of deep humiliation. "Relax, Angela! You can trust me..." Karl said as he headed off the freeway and turned into the driveway of his warehouse. Angela knew his words were hollow. Seeing the dark-haired woman from the photo sitting behind the reception desk of his warehouse office had a more unsettling effect on her. The image of the woman, completely naked on the wire bed, arms and legs outstretched and shackled, came flooding back to the frightened young secretary's mind. She remembered the leather-jacketed man's arm holding some kind of brown stick and probing her defenselessly exposed slit. It was as if the image had been branded on Angela's memory. "Virginia...this is Angela," Karl said, smirking at the trembling young girl he'd brought to the office. "She's a pretty one...is this her first time?" the dark-haired woman's husky voice made her sound thoroughly evil to Angela. "I'm going to enjoy having her around..." "Virginia likes to welcome all the new girls...she's very special to this firm!" Karl suddenly lifted the front of Angela's modest skirt. Angela buckled over, shrieking loudly and frantically trying to push the old man's hands away. But it was too late. He'd already exposed the embarrassing truth of her missing underwear, and, after a short struggle with both Karl and Virginia, the timid blonde found herself completely naked. "Please..." Angela whimpered, trying to hide herself with her small hands as Virginia wrestled the shoes from her feet. "I don't understand what's going on..." "What's there to understand? You've been promoted out of the secretary pool to something much more highly regarded in this company!" Karl grumbled as he fought to pull the frantically struggling blonde's arms behind her back. Angela couldn't see how he could call it a promotion. She'd just been completely humiliated by both of them, and, from what she could tell, it was just the beginning. "What do you mean...highly regarded?" "You ask too many questions, Angela!" Virginia said, roughly pressing a red rubber ball into her open mouth and strapping it tightly in place to gag her. Angela's mouth filled with saliva, and she clamped her jaws on the rubber ball, desperately trying to scream but not being able to raise the necessary noise she was after. The gag was terrifyingly effective, preventing any of the hysterical protests she attempted. A moment later, and she felt her wrists being cuffed with thick, black leather straps which were shackled together behind her back. In less than a minute, Angela found herself standing totally nude, hands unable to hide her lewdly exposed nakedness, and her ankles manacled with leather bracelets that were surely intended for some bizarre imprisonment. "Feels good, doesn't it, Angela?" Virginia smirked deviously as she cupped her warm hands around the naked blonde's unprotected breasts and began pinching at her swelling nipples. Angela shook her head vigorously in denial. "Yes, it does...you can't lie to me!" Angela gasped, biting down hard on the rubber gag as the middle-aged woman painfully twisted her tender nipples. She tripped and stumbled as the woman unexpectedly began dragging her by the nipples from the office into the cavernous interior of the warehouse. "I'll take over from here, Karl," Virginia laughed, dragging the horrified young blonde away from him. "We'll see you in a minute inside..."The sight of a group of workmen gawking excitedly at her almost made Angela faint. It was only Virginia's painful grip on her stretched, tortured nipples that kept her on her feet, though the men quickly gathered around and grabbed hold of her to carry her to the far end of the warehouse floor. The terrified young secretary was practically in tears, twisting and struggling helplessly as the leather cuffs around her ankles were hitched to chains hanging from a winch above. The blood rushed to her head as the electric motor powering it whirred into life, dragging her widely spread feet towards the ceiling until her head was able to be lowered without touching the concrete floor. When the men finally released her, Angela struggled violently, but this merely made her swing around on the end of the chains, making her more dizzy. A minute or so later, she gave up, trying to focus her tear-filled eyes on the upside-down view of the group of wild-eyed onlookers. It was the most degrading, humiliating moment of her entire life and, judging by the sinister-looking riding crop in Virginia's hand, it looked set to get even worse. 'Hurry up, Karl!' Virginia called loudly, her angry-sounding voice resounding in the warehouse. 'Tell him to hurry up, Angela!' The terrified blonde screamed silently through the gag as her bare, defenseless fleshy buttocks was suddenly stung sharply with the crop. She arched her back, struggling frantically to avoid the shower of painful lashes which began raining on her backside. The sadistic woman's taunts for her to call Karl had her sobbing dry tears of helplessness, unable to call for the perverted old man or stop the agonizing lashes to her bottom. The men standing around watching were goggle-eyed with perverse excitement as they watched the defenseless, naked blonde being thrashed mercilessly by Virginia. Angela could no longer see them through her tear-filled eyes, but she could feel their presence closing in around her and the sound of their voices crudely describing their delight at the kinky spectacle she provided. Karl's accented voice eventually broke over the animated noise of the workers, and Virginia stopped whipping her, leaving her to hang trembling and shaking with terrified agony. 'This is where the fun part begins, Angela,' Karl said, leaning down to talk directly into her tear-streaked face. 'You will be working here from now on...Virginia will be your boss, but any of these men will also be able to tell you what to do. You are to do whatever they ask...without question. Is that understood?' Angela hung limply in her restraints, her head fogged with confusion and not knowing what he was talking about. Still, she eventually nodded agreeably and, as her 'reward', was forced to watch helplessly as each man in turn lined up to lash her defenseless slit with their tongues. It only took a second of the first man's energetic sucking and slurping on her clit to realize that the bizarre, humiliating abuse had made her clit hard and throbbing with surreal delight. The men were only allowed a minute or two each to 'introduce themselves', as Virginia had joked, and each man's approach was surprisingly different. All the while this was going on, Angela first sensed, then felt something happening behind her. The feeling of something smooth and cold slipping into the crater of her anus filled her with dread, but she couldn't concentrate beyond the perverse arousal being stirred by the procession of tongues on her clit. She realized Karl was about to penetrate her puckered anus with something, but the spasming muscles of her crotch made resistance futile and, before she could flex her buttocks defensively, her ring slipped tautly around a film, slippery dildo. Angela arched her back, stretching and curling her toes as the blinding daze of an orgasm suddenly enveloped her. She moaned through the gag as the shaft slowly impaled her back passage, each burrowing inch of it setting off the tingling sensation of shitting until her whole bowel felt packed and solid. She couldn't think straight as the last of the men roughly nuzzled and slurped noisily on her throbbing clit. Their half-unshaven whiskers irritated the sensitive, unfurled channel of her slit which, Angela felt sure, yawned obscenely open for all to see. It was a long time after Angela was released before she could think clearly about what had transpired that afternoon. Her ring felt stretched and damaged for many hours afterwards, but the worst was in her mind. The experience had liberated the timid, demure young blonde in some way she couldn't explain, and the next morning she found herself standing naked in front of Virginia's desk, waiting excitedly for the new day's instructions. Her life as a sex slave had begun.

M+/F nc Mdom bd-sm

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/17631.txt

Chili Peeler

Sordid Conception - Part 7

'I did that....made Brenda come.' Sharon had sat back on her legs after Brenda's thighs had fallen open. Her fingers went to her lips as she continued to taste the tangy wetness that Brenda had produced. It was her first taste of womanly cum, and she found it almost as intoxicating as hard liquor. She wanted to tell Brenda how much she had enjoyed trying to give cunnilingus, experiencing it from the other side, but there would be time for that later because Brad gripped her arm and pulled her toward him. "I hope you're ready, Mom, because I'm gonna give it to you good," he said a little too loudly. Sharon realized he was announcing it to Brenda. So Brenda could watch what she and Brad had hidden from everyone else. Brenda rolled over toward them, raising herself up on her elbow, and Sharon saw the anticipation in her eyes...and the special extra in her eyes that was for her alone. Brad pulled her to him and then swung her upper body toward the far side of the bed, away from Brenda, as he let her gently down on her back. He lifted her left leg almost straight up in the air, swinging it past his chest and around his other side as he positioned himself over her. "Spread your legs...wider than that," Brad commanded her as he fisted his ready member and ran the wet head on her hair-matted mons. "Now pull them back like I like." He wanted her legs back toward her head, a position that they had both enjoyed frequently over the past 18 months. She knew he wanted them back now for another reason - to give Brenda, who still lay behind his son's feet, an unimpeded view of his hefty dick delving into her cunt. Turning into a full-fledged exhibitionist in the excitement of the moment, she bent her legs at the knees and tilted them back, her pelvis rolling up at her eager son. She could feel her labia opening up, exposing the slick inner lining of her sex slit and the mouth of her simmering quim. At least that was the view she imagined Brenda was getting. Her son didn't give Brenda a long, lingering gaze - he quickly leaned over her, fit the head of his prick into the entrance of her pussy and began pushing it down into her. "Man! You're fucking wet," Brad exclaimed as he buried himself balls-deep in her without any problem due to their position and her record-breaking lubrication level. His slab of cock filled her so beautifully. She could have looked for years in town for someone as satisfying as Brad but she knew she never would need to. Her baby would be there for her for years and years. The fact that both of them were in their sexual prime was not lost on her. It had always seemed like cruel fate that men and women matured so far apart. She wondered how many other women her age were bedding much younger men - and how many were their sons! Brad began slowly fucking her, pulling his cock almost all the way out before injecting it again deep in her itchy sheath. For once in his life, her son was taking his time - right when she wanted nothing more for him to pound her sex. She wanted to come in the worst way; a hard, energetic fucking was the quickest way there. But Brad continued to play to their watching bed mate. "Harder," she said very softly up at her son's leering face. It wasn't loud enough for Brenda to hear but her son wouldn't even spare her that little private exchange. "Sure, Mom," he said loudly, "But I want you to speak up some. I'm sure Brenda wants to hear what you want me to do to you." Waiting for her to comply, he pulled out until only his knob was still in her needy confines and then he let it hover there. 'Damn you, Brad,' she said to herself as her cheeks warmed in a blush. Painting herself as a horny slut in front of Brenda was not what she wanted but wasn't it really what she was? Summoning all the courage she could, she responded to her manipulative man-son. "I said do it harder!" she said in a voice so strong and confident that it surprised even herself. "Fuck me like a real man, Brad....fuck me hard!" "All you had to do was ask," Brad said with a chuckle before he drove himself strongly down into her splayed crotch, his balls slapping loudly against her ass as their pubic bones jarred together. Sharon let her face fall sideways on the bed as her virile son began hammering her lifted lap with powerful lunges. It was only the feeling of drool starting to seep from the corner of her mouth that brought Brenda out of her voyeuristic trance. The sight of incestuous cock and cunt working in a hot tandem was overpowering to watch. She swallowed quickly, never taking her eyes from the hot scene only a few feet away. Brad's fat prick was opening up his mother's furry slit obscenely and his thrusts were making the bed squeak underneath her. Sharon's pussy was dribbling clear juice which welled up or was deposited below her stuffed gash by Brad's driving member. That juice was running down over her mother-in-law's small, brown puckered anus, then disappearing further down her ass crack. Brenda began rubbing her own slick slit which now felt ready for more action. Her orgasm had left her as juicy as Sharon and she wondered if Brad would be able to fuck her as well in the session that was unfolding. She prepared herself for a letdown. He was probably going to get his rocks off with his mother and then things would probably settle down. 'But I can come back tomorrow for another baby-making try with Brad.....and the next day....and every day. I've got the perfect excuse since any session might get me pregnant...Sharon will understand.' Sharon was moaning now, every flesh-smacking fuck by Brad was being answered by hot sex squeals from her mother-in-law. She was working her way to an orgasm and Brenda wanted to do more than watch. Sharon had done something for her...she had joined in. She crawled past the two humping bodies on their right until she was almost laying beside Sharon. Brad was the first to register that she was there; his mother's face was laying on the bed looking the other way. "Like watching....uuhhh...me fuck her?" Brad said hotly. Sharon's face flopped over and looked at her through lust-slitted eyes, her mouth open in a perpetual O as Brad continued to screw her. "I've never seen anything so hot," Brenda said to Sharon, letting her left hand slowly reach out to land on Sharon's jiggling left tit. Sharon's eyes closed as she rubbed her palm over the stiff, eraser-sized nipple. "Yeah!....that's it, Brenda....help me make her come....uuhhh...and I'll.....fuck you!" "AAAAHHH....UUHHHH....MMMHHMMMM!" Sharon began panting right at her face and Brenda ran her hand over both of Sharon's supple breasts like she was waxing her car. A quick glance down her reclining, shuddering body and Brenda could again see Brad's crimson-hued erection bucking up and down in the widespread V of his sexy, derilious mother's legs. Another five or six thrusts and Sharon's back arched sharply, her head dipping straight back as she began cumming. "UUUUUHHHGGHHHHAAAAHHHHH!.....HHHHAAAAHHHHHOOHH!" Sharon shrieked as her hands, which had been grabbing bunches of bedspread, shot up and held her son's sides as leaned further over her, pressing his swollen pleasure-giver deep in her rippling loins. "Yeaaaahh...yeaaaahh....she's cumming so biiiiiggggggg!" Brad announced as he rode his mother's twitching body. After a few minutes, mother and son were still. "You really got off that time," Brad said after giving his mother a real kiss. Brenda thought the kiss was probably the most intimate part of the incest she had just witnessed; fucking and sucking could be explained away by hormones, but the deep soul kissing that Sharon and Brad did in front of her showed genuine love. "It's been a crazy, wonderful day," Sharon said simply, stroking Brad's face. Then she turned to look at her. "Brenda, I don't know where all this is...heading but we can talk about it later. I want a grandchild. Now, you two get busy and make one." 'Time to fill Brenda's box with some more cum!' Brad thought hotly as he untangled himself from his mother.Brenda began to shift over on the bed, arranging herself on her back with her head in the pillows. While that looked incredibly inviting, Brad had had enough of the missionary. He wanted to take Brenda in a different position than the one he had already had her in. "I want you on your hands and knees," Brad told her. "I want to get real deep when I plant my seed." He felt ridiculous saying that, like he was some sort of Johnny Appleseed, but it had the desired effect. His turned-on sister-in-law rolled to her left and positioned herself on her hands and knees, facing away from him, with her head in the far right corner of the bed. She swung her long hair to one side, looking back at him as he moved up behind her full ass. "Man, what a pretty pussy!" Brad said as he moved in closer. All shaved and wet and soft looking, Brenda's sex winked at him, ready to get stuffed with his unflagging stiffie. His hands caressed her ass and squeezed it, pulling her cheeks as he pressed his knees against the inside of her shins and made her open her stance wider. Her ass lowered further down then began to lift again, roll forward, as Brenda lowered herself down on her elbows. He slid his hands a little lower and used his thumbs to pull her pussy folds apart and her pink tunnel was right there, just begging for it. The bed behind him shifted and his mother moved beside him on her knees as well, her left hand resting on his shoulder while her right hand rubbed his back affectionately. "Go ahead, Brad," she said softly, her eyes on Brenda's opened sex crease. His cock bobbed up and down as his mother encouraged him to fuck and impregnate her other son's wife. "Yes," Brenda purred, wanting it also. His mother's left hand slid off his shoulder, went under his arm and she grabbed his erection, bending it down toward its target. Brad flexed his hips forward and his knob pressed into Brenda's slick opening and then disappeared down her snug hole. "Ahhh, yeah!" he grunted as he slowly worked himself into Brenda's fertile fuck furrow. "That's a good boy," his mother said throatily near his ear. After a few minutes of careful invasion, Brenda was full of cock and Brad began thrusting back and forth in her succulent cunt while his mother stroked his chest and ass with her hands. "Ooooohhh.....mmmmmmm...uuuummmm....GodohGod...mmmmmmm," Brenda mewed as he held her hips and pushed and pulled his erection in and out of her slippery, tight vagina. The scene played itself out for about ten minutes, the intensity rising and rising. Brenda came with a shriek and Brad had to slow his thrusts until her cunt had gone slack again, then he began pounding her liquidy hole like a madman as he felt his own orgasm cresting. "HERE I COME!...OOOHYEAAHH...UUUUUGHHH.....UUUGGHH!" he bellowed as his mother held him and his balls blew his wad deep in his sexy sister-in-law. He came so hard his balls hurt. 'This stud service is the greatest!' he thought to himself as his cock finally stopped twitching in Brenda's cum-ladened cooze and his mother kissed the side of his neck. Epilogue - 15 months later "I wish you'd let me clean up," Sharon said to Chris as she got up from the dining room table. "Leave it. We'll clean up later," Chris assured his visiting mother. "Why don't you and Brad go in and relax in the living room. Brenda will be down in a few minutes. Carol goes down like a shot." Sharon and Brad got up from the table, sharing a knowing smile as they headed into the front room. The night had been very special; both she and Brad were always happy to come over to Chris's house and see little Carol. She was a beautiful, healthy baby that had been born almost nine months to the day of the wild happenings up in Sharon's bed. Sharon sat in easy chair and Brad slouched down on their couch, holding the bottle of beer he'd not finished at dinner. Chris came in a few minutes later carrying a couple of wine glasses and another bottle of wine. He, Brenda and Sharon had consumed a bottle at dinner already. "Oh, Chris...you shouldn't have opened another bottle," Sharon said as he handed her a glass. "Well, if we don't finish it, it's no biggie. Besides, this is a celebration. Carol's 6 months old and this day will never come again." Sharon let Chris pour her another glass. She already felt warm all over from the alcohol she'd already consumed but Brad would be O.K. to drive them home. Brenda came down the stairs at that moment and Brad couldn't help mentally undressing her, now that he knew all her charms in intimate detail. The blouse she wore had sort of a low neckline and with her mammaries even larger from breastfeeding, she was showing plenty of cleavage. He was surprised his brother would let her traipse around like that but he wasn't complaining. Fucking her for the few weeks the previous year had been awesome and it did pain him to know he would probably never get to again. Still, his mother was giving him all he wanted. "She went right down. She's such a good baby," Brenda said. "You're so lucky...this one kept us up all night," Sharon said, tapping Chris on the leg as he stood by her chair pouring wine into the other glass he had brought. "Here you go, Bren," Chris said, handing the glass of wine to her. "Now, I'd like to propose a toast." "You need a glass, Chris," Sharon said. "Nah, I'll use the bottle....O.K., first I'd like to thank Brenda for bringing such a beautiful baby into our lives." Brenda and he shared a quick kiss. "Come on, Chris," Brad chimed in. "You had a little to do with it, you know?" "I wish that were true," Chris said cryptically. Sharon felt her stomach drop a little. Was it possible that Chris knew something? "Look, we all know it's not true," Chris continued. "The second part of my toast is to the other people that did make it happen - you and Brad." Sharon looked at Brenda and saw that she was smiling at her and Brad. Chris's announcement didn't seem to faze her; she had known that he knew before they came over. What was happening here? "I'm afraid our little secret is out," Brenda said, taking a sip of wine. "But Chris understands, so don't worry. Chris spoke to Dr. Evans and found out about his low-sperm count and sort of put two and two together." "I felt bad accusing her of committing adultery," Chris said, stroking Brenda's arm. "But the doctor was so incredulous that I'd been able to get Brenda knocked up...well, it was all I could think of." "I decided to just tell him the truth and, after a while, he saw the logic in it. We both came clean with each other about everything. He had some secrets, not like ours, but he got his secrets off his chest and I came clean about everything. We don't have any secrets now," Brenda said proudly. "That's right, Mom," Chris said. "I know all about Brenda and Brad... and about you and Brad." Brad and his mother exchanged worried looks but their concern was tempered by Brenda's continuing smile. "At first, I was shocked but, well, now I think it's all right," Chris continued. He handed the wine bottle to Brenda and extended his hand to Sharon. She took it, thinking that he wanted to show his understanding by holding her hand. Chris continued, "I really don't see anything wrong with what you and Brad are doing. A mother and a son ....no, I don't see a thing wrong with that." Brad saw his mother's arm straighten as his older brother pulled on her hand. He was pulling their mother up out of her chair. Realization dawned on Sharon at that point and she felt a great calm come over her. Things were going to be all right. She drained the wine glass she held and handed it to Brenda as her husband led the way to the stairs. "Whatta?...." Brad said to Brenda as she began sitting down the bottle and glasses on the coffee table. The legs of his mother and Chris were disappearing upstairs. "Don't you see, Brad?" Brenda said as she sat by him on the couch. "You and Chris are so much alike. That's why I told him about you and your mother.....I knew he'd be interested too." "So, Mom and Chris are....." "That's right. You're going to have to share her from now on," Brenda said as she began to stroke his chest. "Of course, the sharing goes the other way too...you see, Chris and I love Carol so much that we want another baby....and tonight's a good night, if you know what I mean." Brad leaned into her and they began kissing. He let his hand roam over Brenda's milk-swollen tits, rubbing them through her blouse. After ten minutes of heavy necking and petting, he had Brenda very hot. "Let's go upstairs," she suggested. "You read my mind," he responded, getting up and leading her up the stairs. As they walked past the guest bedroom, Chris could clearly hear his mother moaning inside as she and Chris enjoyed each other for the first time. 'What a family!' he thought as he looked forward to fucking Brenda once again. The End

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/11132.txt

Donovan Edwards

A Little Summer Heat

'Aaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhhhh Wretchedness!' I sighed to myself. My consulting job was coming to an end. I had milked it for all it was worth, and the dead horse didn't deserve beating any further. I had the Novell net set up and working beautifully. I had added a couple of custom database applications, standardized the Windows environment, and I was pretty much all set. Even backing up the entire system could be done with the push of a single button. It was flawless. It was perfect. It was done. Finally. It was the height of a scorching summer, and it had taken me about a year to finish the project correctly from start to finish. Most of the techie stuff had been done and done well; now I was in the final phase: Teaching users how to get the most out of the system. I had made everything push-button simplistic, and everyone seemed to get it. However, I needed someone with better-than-average user knowledge to teach all of the technical aspects to, just in case something went wrong after I departed. Jim Nevin, the branch director, knew that Linda Taylor and I didn't get along as well as others in the office, but he also knew that Linda had the best technical aptitude of the entire office, even better than himself. He thought that she should hold the position of Network Administrator after I left. What Jim didn't know, and what nobody else in the office knew, was that I had been sleeping with Linda Taylor pretty steadily since the previous Christmas. We hid it very well. Very well indeed. In the office, we said the perfunctory good mornings, and that was it, but outside the office, we fucked up a storm. Linda's marriage was on a crash course, sputtering and spiraling to a fiery death. She wasn't even trying to save it. She didn't care anymore, and she wanted out. Her husband, Randy, was getting it elsewhere, she suspected, and supposedly had been for a long time. Her kids, three of them, looked to me as just some guy in their mother's office. Little did they know. By this time, Jessica was 10, Jodi was 3, and Bobby was a year and some change. They were all spitting images of their mother, redheaded and freckle-faced. Randy Taylor, from the two times that I had met him, seemed to be the stereotypical 'high school jock who couldn't make it', avid beer drinking, out with the boys, leave me the fuck alone I'm watching football type of guy. I didn't feel guilty one single iota about fucking his wife. In his house, in his bed, in my car, in my apartment, in a cheap, rancid hotel where she had to wash off my cum in the sink because it didn't have a shower. Not guilty at all. I rationalized that he had brought this down upon himself. Secretly, I hoped that he knew. Why, I don't know. Maybe I wanted him to change and become the man that he promised her he'd be. Linda and I had great times together, but that was that. We both knew that this was a temporary thing. I had no intentions of taking her away and marrying her. At the time, I was 24 and she was 32. She had no intentions of forcing a divorce upon him either. She figured that it would just end one day when they both called it quits. In my own head, I knew that she still loved him in some perverse way, and I wanted them both to get it together, not only for their sake, but for the sake of their kids. We didn't even make a great effort to hide the torrid affair outside of the office. I even went as far as fucking her in the backseat of my Olds in a McDonald's parking lot! . . . On a Friday night even! The coil springs bucked and squeaked, and even though I couldn't see, I knew that a bunch of high school kids were transfixed at the sight of this car bouncing up and down seemingly of its own accord. When we were done, the car reeked of pussy, and the backseat was drenched in sweat and breast milk. During our months together, Linda herself began to change, for the better. She seemed to walk a little more upright. New hairstyles appeared spontaneously. Even smiles danced across her freckled face. The clothes grew tighter and more revealing. She had even lost a little weight, in all the right places. Her ass was still plump and luscious, her tits were still two big melodious honeydew melons that squirted voluminous fountains of milk almost on command. I had even taken to laying across her lap and sucking for all I was worth. Bobby had been weaned by then, but I was more than happy to make up for the loss. She would even cum while I suckled her, her tits quivering and slapping me in the head. In the seven months since our initial, nasty encounter, there wasn't a place in her house, or my apartment or a hotel within 100 miles that we hadn't left wet spots. I even fucked her in her fridge! I bent her at the waist and shoved her entire upper body into the large refrigerator and fucked her pussy silly while her titties bounced back and forth over butter and cold beer cans and shit like that. When I took her out, she was freezing from the waist up, but her nipples were like thumbs trying to hitchhike! There wasn't a spot on her body that my dick didn't travel to. I fucked her in her fiery red cunt, in her blubbery buttcheeks, in her hot mouth, between the globes of her tits, and even between her toes! At the time I thought this was strange, but the experience was quite pleasurable. It was one of my last 'in-office' days, and I decided to begin the cleanup process, taking and boxing up my stuff. My office was a temporary one, so they had located me down the hall quite a distance from the Receptionist's desk and anything else, for that matter. I didn't mind. In fact, I liked the isolation, after all, I am the stereotypical computer person: Not a 'people person' at all. The office was large too. Larger than Jim, the director's office even. Even with two large desks, a credenza, a sofa that appeared to be about 8 feet long, and several chairs, the office was still very spacious. I finished most of the packing and had two boxes seated on the floor. It was morning, and I had shown up first, letting one of the cleaning crew let me in. By the time I had finished packing, it was 9:00 am, and the office was just beginning to come to life. I walked down the long hallway to the main office. The first person to greet me was Cindy, Jim Nevin's 11-year-old daughter. During the Summer, instead of shelling out a few bucks for a day-camp or a babysitter, he thought it would be better if he brought her to the office and let everyone else keep an eye on her. It was frugal, but it was a shitty thing to hit your employees with babysitting duty. Cindy had a habit of terrorizing the office, not in a bratty sort of way, but more of a 'Stop whatever you're doing and play with me' sort of way. I couldn't blame her. Spending her Summer days cooped up in an office with a bunch of old folks, in fact, that's how I felt most of the time. I was the only one close to Cindy's age, even though, at 24, she still saw me as part of the 'grown-up establishment'. She had an unusual way of looking at things. Not childlike, just intelligently naive. She would even talk about politics and world current events. I asked her how she knew so much, and she said that she watched CNN in the morning while her father was getting ready for work. I liked Cindy, in a fresh, new idea sort of way. Nothing sexual, at first that is. Cindy even seemed to like me, because I talked to her like an adult, and not like a little kid. She even said that she appreciated me not being condescending to her. But, if she screwed up around me, I told her about it and chewed her out just like I'd do to anyone else. She seemed to like the equality. Most of Cindy's time had been spent going from one person to the next, seeing what they were doing, and then getting shooed away. When she came to me, I made a genuine effort to explain what I was doing and why. She even seemed to comprehend some of my techno-babble. Consequently, I took her under my wing as my gopher/protégé. "Susan's not here today... Go log in at her computer. The password is Z-E-O-S Twelve," I told her. She followed directions implicitly, and this was no major task for her. She skipped down the long hall and booted and logged in to Susan's PC. She even knew how to ring me and begin a chat session. For 11, her typing skills were getting better by the day; she was familiar with the home-row keys and on a good day, could get up to about 35 wpm without error.Her slimmer fingers seemed to give her an advantage. I don't know why. We chatted for a few minutes, I ran some diagnostics and told her that everything was okay, and she could come back. I walked out of my office and made my way to the bathroom. It was located off the hall between my office and the main office. Cindy turned the corner and spied me on her way back. She started running towards me, getting up a full head of steam and running wide open. Her white summer dress flounced as she kicked like an Olympian. As she approached, she didn't slow down and slammed into me, giggling all the while. She hit my midsection so hard, I thought I'd piss on myself right there. "That was great! I did it right, right?" She was looking up at me. It was as if I was noticing her for the first time. Cindy is a beautiful girl, if an 11-year-old can be considered beautiful. I guess it was more like 'Cute with the potential for beauty at some later date'. Her blond hair, little, slightly upturned nose, and cocoa brown eyes gave her an incredibly beautiful appearance. "Yeah, you did okay," I said, flicking her cute nose. "There's a surprise for you in my office." "What is it?" "Go see," I said knowingly. I walked around her to the bathroom singing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game.' "Hardballs!" She exclaimed, and then ran to my office giggling at her play on words. I had a pirated copy of a great baseball game called 'Hardball'. I didn't even have to teach her how to play it, she took to it all so quickly. Her brother was on the high school team, so she knew the rules relatively well. Once I taught her a few strategies like 'Hit and Run' and how to maximize her lineup, she had a powerhouse team. My team was tops though. Undefeated through 62 games and nobody had even come close. I had the Boston Red Sox, and my lineup was comprised of the best the American League had to offer: Vaughn, Canseco, McGuire, Henderson, Boggs, Griffey Jr., Fielder, Frank Thomas, Bo Jackson... only the best. The pitching staff was stellar: Clemens, McDowell, Eckersley, Viola, Randy Johnson, Guzman. My numbers were astronomical, I had even exported my team stats into a Lotus spreadsheet to graph them. I grabbed hold of my dick and was a little surprised at how small it seemed. "What are you afraid of, boy?" I spoke to it. "She's a kid, don't be afraid. I won't even think about it, so don't worry." The conversation was ridiculous. My dick was afraid of showing want for an 11-year-old! The piss felt great. It seemed as if I had been storing it for a while because it jetted out of me and splashed off the urinal. I had to stand back a bit to avoid getting wet. "If we can put a man on the moon, surely we can invent a splash-guard for the male urinal!" I said out loud. It was a joke, but it was a good idea. I washed the few stray splashes of whizz off my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. "Not stunning, but I'll do." I said, and chuckled a bit. 'Maybe the bod did need a little work' I thought. "Well, the rest of the summer is open and the bank account is stuffed!" I was right. This would probably be one of my last days at the office and the consulting fees I had worked up were quite substantial. I walked back to my office expecting to find Cindy quietly playing games on my PC, but she wasn't there. I assumed that she had left and found something else to do, but I could see a hint of white fabric coming out of the bottom-front of my desk. Cindy had a little game she liked to play on people. Hide under their desk and wait until they sat down to scare the shit out of them. I had fallen prey on several occasions, but not this day. I slowly walked around and sat at my desk and began playing Hardball with my team. "Hmmm. I wonder where Cindy went." I heard her giggle. "She didn't want to play baseball? Well, looks like I'm gonna have to change her team statistics." "You better not!" Said the voice beneath me. "Oh my, I'm hearing voices. Is that Cindy? But I don't see her. Where oh where can she be?" She giggled again and pinched my leg. "What was that? Cindy was that you? I can't see you. You couldn't be hiding... under my desk!" I screamed and fell to the floor, grabbing her and tickling her through her thin dress. It was dark beneath my desk, but I could make out Cindy's face, her teeth gleaming in laughter as I tickled her sides. I made up my mind to teach her a lesson once and for all, and maybe cop a good feel in the process. "Pleeeeeeeeezzzz!" She giggled out with tears in her eyes. I was relentless, I had gotten one of her sneakers and socks off and was going nuts on the sole of her foot. Cindy squirmed and bucked trying to get away, but the laughter was making her very uncoordinated. I knew she was in pain. My brother used to do this to me when I was younger and I know that after a while, the laughter doubles you over with abdominal pain. Cindy was gasping now, desperate for air, clawing and kicking at my hands with her free leg. I was seated on the floor behind my desk, holding her foot tight and rubbing the fingers back and forth over the naked soles very lightly. I could see a little better now, and through her thrashing, Cindy's dress had ridden up to her waist and she made no effort to pull it down to a modest level. I could see the well-defined mound through her little white 'baby-doll' panties. I stopped the tickle-torture, she sat up and I stared into her sparkling, tear-streaked eyes. It seemed as if, for the first time, I was really considering her features, examining her woman/child-like charms to the fullest. She WAS beautiful, very beautiful. She wasn't a girl in my eyes anymore, she was a woman, although a very small one. "How did you know I was down here?" she asked, snapping me out of my trance. I still held her foot in my hands and unconsciously began massaging it. I didn't want to admit what I was feeling for this 11-year-old, but I definitely was feeling something. "Hmmmmm... that feels good." She sighed. I broke our gaze and looked down to see my hands rubbing her feet sensuously. I was shocked that I was actually doing it, and before I could think straight, she told me not to stop. I gave in, to this at least, and continued to stroke the foot, occasionally caressing the ankle and calf. Cindy was smiling at me all the while. A radiant, womanly smile that did nothing to quell my feelings for her. What feelings were those? I honestly couldn't say, but at that moment, I thought it was a bizarre kind of love. I was at ease around Cindy. I didn't have to pretend or become a fake human being. Cindy herself was a fresh alternative to most of the pretentious people that I seemed to have to deal with on a daily basis, 'Paper People', I called them: Shallow, no depth whatsoever. Cindy was different, brutally honest, and with an amazing combination of naïveté and intelligence. I thought that I had worked myself up enough to send her away, go to the bathroom and jerk off 10 or 20 times. I was on fire. My dick felt like a bar of iron in my pants. I playfully tickled her foot again and then let it drop... right onto my very erect dick! "Donny, you're hard there!" She exclaimed. I was shocked shitless, but my cunt-hungry dick took over all thoughts and actions. "Where is that?" I asked. I didn't want to push it too hard, too fast, so I just decided to let her fill me in on how much she knew. All the while, never thinking that it would lead to anything more than a little dirty talk. "Your dick, stupid!" "How do you know about dicks?" I asked incredulously. "Don't look at me like that! It's not like I've done it, or anything, but I've heard stories. I even saw my brother doing it in the shower." Her reply slapped me in the face. I couldn't believe it. Not only was I having this conversation with an 11-year-old, but she had seen Johnny, her 15-year-old brother having sex in the shower. "You saw Johnny Rotten having sex?" Her brother was a real brat-type. We called him Johnny Rotten. He was a good kid though, no worse than I was when I was 15. "No, not really. He was pulling on it. Whad'ya call it, 'Wanking'?" "Among other things." I replied. I was a little angry at myself for not using better judgment and shutting this thing down, nipping it in the bud before it got completely out of hand. "Do you wank it?" She asked. Her bare foot was now sliding up and down my crotch. I didn't want to believe that an 11-year-old could make a conscious decision to foot-fondle someone 13 years her elder. "Occasionally." I said, feeling more and more uneasy. "Show me!" She smiled. Damn it was sexy. "You're a little young, don't you think?" This hurt her, and I knew it would even before I said it, but I had to do something to diffuse the situation. From her dejected expression, I thought it had worked, but it didn't. "You don't mean that. I saw you glancing..." She looked down to her crotch. Eyeing her panties that were still partially visible to me. Precocious was not the word to describe Cindy, she was more like Intelligent beyond her 11 years. "Trying to say that you weren't looking at me? Too young, huh? What were you thinking of to get you like this?" She asked, pushing her foot harder into my crotch. "I'm not even ticklish... I was just playing." I grabbed her bare foot and feathered my fingers against the sole. Nothing. She was right. She wasn't the least bit ticklish. She was a tremendous actress. Then the sudden realization hit me that this girl, this child, this pre-pubescent beauty, was attempting to seduce me, but something in her plan had gone awry. "Here's mine.She pulled her white panties to the side, showing me the hairless pot of gold beneath. I gasped. My mouth hung open, and my eyes grew wide. It was beautiful. She snapped the panties back to her crotch and started again to foot-massage my dick through my trousers. I was defeated. My cock was portraying my true feelings. I closed my eyes and put my head back, reveling in the feeling that her small foot was giving me. "Let me see it," she purred. I complied quickly, much too quickly. Before I could stop myself, I had scooted my pants and shorts down to my knees and tried to catch my breath as my dong stood proudly, inspecting the scene. She started her manipulations again, sliding the foot down the sides, stopping only to tickle the sensitive underside with her big toe. I don't know how, but she definitely knew what she was doing. "For someone who's never done it, you sure know how to do it!" "Johnny Rotten taught me," I snapped back to attention and stared at her, waiting for more. "He was in the shower... He didn't let me touch it, but he did show me how to wank it and where it felt good to touch it. I wanted to touch it... to kiss it, but he wouldn't let me. Anyway, that was that, his wasn't nearly as big as yours." It felt good to hear. I knew that I was of average size, but I guess I appeared monstrous compared to her 15-year-old brother. "Maybe you could kiss mine." I couldn't stop myself from saying it. This was a point of no return. If she hesitated at all, I'd stop the game, but if this young creature put her lips to my dork, there would be no chance of her getting out of this office a virgin, and I knew it. She seemed to know how important a moment this was, and she didn't hesitate at all. She quickly maneuvered herself between my legs and grabbed my dingaling with one of her small hands. I could feel her warm breath coating my cock and balls. "Hard Balls," she giggled into my crotch. She was right, I was as hard as I'd ever been, harder than I thought humanly possible. When Cindy started rubbing my cock, the skin was so tightly wrapped that the friction and the heat made me think that I was going to explode. Not just 'cum' explode, but 'blow up' explode, like a sausage in a microwave. Without any warning at all, she swooped down and covered my dickhead with her lips. The hot, tight opening sucked and vacuumed the head, while her tongue worked back and forth against the sensitive underside. I was grunting now, lunging my hips and trying to force my entire cock into her mouth, taking her by the golden hair and fucking her face. Her slim fingers were digging deeply into my thighs. The added pain was pleasurable. "Ohhhhh Yeahhhhh!" My words were a long whisper. I had never felt anything like it, and I wanted more. I wanted it all. I let go of her hair and started caressing Cindy's back. I could feel the thin straps of the trainer bra and each vertebrae beneath her skin. I used both hands to pull the dress up and over her back. Her young body was beautiful, not that of a child, but of a young woman. Her amazingly narrow waist led to beautiful hips and slim, well-muscled legs. For an 11-year-old, little Cindy was a complete knockout! I tugged at the bra, the rubber-band-like straps stretching and snapping. I couldn't find the clasp, and believe me, I tried. I thought that maybe it was in the front, but then I thought that that design was reserved for those who want easy access tit action. It couldn't hurt to look. I groped underneath Cindy, her bobbing head still suctioning my cock like a Hoover Deluxe vacuum cleaner. The little triangles of cottony material covered two soft hills of flesh that I couldn't help but squeeze and caress. Cindy moaned when I did this, and the moaning only added to the intensity of the blow-job that I was receiving. I could feel the stream begin to churn and bubble within my balls, and I knew that I couldn't possibly hold out much longer, so I decided to get a little respite. I pulled Cindy's head up to meet mine. Her eyes were sparkling, and she was smiling, saliva coating her lips. I got to my knees with my cock bouncing majestically. "Holy shit!" I gasped. In my absent-minded, fuck-lust-filled state, I had forgotten that the door to my office was wide open. I quietly got to my feet, forgetting that my pants were now down to my ankles and tripped trying to get to the door. Cindy laughed, and I laughed too, though not as hard as her. I shimmied my pants, shoes, and socks off and crawled to the door, closing it and locking it. I turned out the fluorescent overhead lights and hoped and prayed that if anyone came looking for me, they would think I was in the downstairs cafeteria or in the computer room upstairs. I stood up in the new darkness and listened. My computer monitor glowed green against the far wall, but that wasn't really enough to see everything. I could hear Cindy moving about, and then I saw her crawling from behind my desk. She had removed all of her clothes. The sight of her naked form crawling across the floor like a kitten made me want her all the more. She sat on my sofa and crossed her legs provocatively. It was too dark to make her out completely, but I knew that she was smiling, waiting for more. "Come over here," her voice was a deep, throaty growl. I moved to her, slowly, letting my dick swing to and fro. Cindy reached beside the sofa and turned on the table lamp. We could see each other better now, and we were both smiling widely. Her body was fantastic. Her breasts weren't really breasts, just globs of fat that sat on her chest topped with two perky, pink nipples. I longed to suck them. Unbuttoning my shirt, I stopped in front of her, hoping that she would take the initiative. And she did. She slid my dick into her hot mouth with one stroke and began a suck action that quickly brought me to the edge again. I pulled out. It was too intense. I wanted her first cumshot to be her best. I caught my breath, kneeling in front of her, spreading her young legs. Just looking at the young hairless slit made me shiver with want. I simply had to eat it. My tongue painted up and down, back and forth across the barren plateau that was her snatch. The soft, hairless, unstretched lips were opening to me, throbbing, and hot, very hot. She raised her legs around my face, and I could feel the silky inner thighs caressing my ears. "Ohhhhhh lickk meeeeee!" The rosy bud of her clit bared itself, and I latched onto it and began to suckle. This drove Cindy wild. She bucked, tossed and turned, clamping her smooth thighs around my head and thrashing me about with her. I held on to her hips for fear that she'd snap my neck, alternately licking and sucking her little nub. I tried to hold onto her hips, but she was bucking too wildly. She was coming, I assumed for the first time, and it was heaven for her. I pulled back. I could see the glistening ooze coating her young snatch, her belly and small tits heaving with each breath. Cindy's pussy looked incredibly inviting, and small, very small. It looked too small, in fact, for what I wanted next. I wanted to at least try it, and Cindy sensed it. She really didn't know what came next. All she knew was that I had just made her feel better than she'd ever felt in her whole life. It wasn't enough for me. I still wanted to at least try to slide myself into that virgin, pre-pubescent box. She read my eyes and sensed my apprehensive feelings. "Yes... I want to." Her voice was confident, and although I knew that she had no idea what was in store for her, I went against my better judgment and all of my good senses and continued on. I grabbed Cindy's legs, spreading them slowly. She complied. I wasn't sure if this was going to work at all. I knew that this was wrong, very very wrong, but the sight of that stunning young thing with her slender legs spread widely and wanting me made me bypass all good reasoning. It's usually at this point where I make a conscious decision to wear a condom or not. My mind raced. 'This is an 11-year-old virgin! What disease can she possibly have?' I only gave a passing consideration to the fact that maybe she was old enough to get pregnant. Just the thought of a pre-teen carrying my child was too bizarre even for me to comprehend. Against my better judgment, I didn't ask Cindy if she had started her periods. I just assumed that she had. 'She's got breasts, she's got hips, she must have it.' 6th-grade Health class had finally paid off. Even after weighing the risks, I didn't care. Neither did my dick. It was even harder than it had been before, if that's possible. It was so hard, and the skin was so tight, it actually hurt. Too much blood flowing through my tube. It pulsed an eerie pink/purple with every heartbeat. I still didn't care. My mind and my dick were in final agreement: YES. She was waiting now, her legs spread obscenely. She was a very flexible girl, able to put her knees to her budding chest as she doubled herself. I grabbed myself while looking down at her, slowly inching forward so that my dickhead was at the entrance of her miniature box. I so wanted not to hurt her, doing my best to make her first experience a good and memorable one. Then I cursed myself for doing this at all. I'd always been horny, but this was illegal, and immoral, but the tightness that I was feeling was too much to turn back. I was being surrounded, enveloped by the hottest, tightest, most incredible orifice that I had ever experienced. "Oooooooooo it's so big. Unnnggggghhhh." "Does it hurt, Cin?" "Only a little. MMmmmmmmmm." I knew she was lying. It occurred to me that I was going about this the wrong way.I pulled the head of my dick out, watching it emerge from the hairless lips. I got to my feet, pulling the naked Cindy up with me. I brushed her hair from her face and bent to kiss her forehead. "One day," I said to myself, "maybe when she's older, I'll make her mine permanently." I meant it. Cindy hugged me tight, my dick bobbing against her belly.

Part 1

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/13159.txt

TheRant

Firsts

'Ah, Michelle!', the inspiration for today's self-indulgence had been on my mind more and more of late, but the morning's little meeting had really inflamed me. It had been a little accident. We both share the same homeroom and a number of the same classes, so our lockers are fairly close to each other. I was just walking back to it to switch books for the next class, my bag in my hand swinging gently as I walked, when I saw her crouched down on the balls of her feet going through the bottom of her locker. I was in a little bit of a hurry, and I guess I got a little close. When I passed her, my bag swung out and gave her a nice hard slap on the cheeks of her round ass as it stuck out. Trying to pretend it didn't happen, I rushed to my locker and undid the combination lock. Digging through the books, I gave her a quick glance and discovered that she was now standing up and staring at me with a strange look on her face. Then, flashing me a smile, she winked at me before turning to go to her next class. I froze. Well, most of me froze. My brain had locked up at the sudden blood loss to a lower region. 'She thinks I did it on purpose.', I thought. 'She thinks I had done it with my hand and not my bag. God...., I wish I had done it with my hand and not my bag. And she didn't seem to mind. In fact .... what does that wink mean?' The bell rang, and I quickly slammed my locker shut and ran for English class. I really can't say what happened the rest of the day in my classes. My mind was on automatic, walking me from class to class, occasionally taking notes when it decided they needed to be taken, but other than that, all I can remember was Michelle and that smile and wink. Let me tell you about Michelle. I've known her for a few years. The high school we both go to starts at grade eight, and we both started there at the same time.One of the nice things about this school is the homeroom is consistent. When you start, you're assigned a homeroom where you start the day, hear any messages that the school thinks you need to hear, and listen to your assigned homeroom teacher ask any questions they have to ask. It's a mixed group of students from grades 8 to 12, so it's a little bit intimidating at first, but you get used to it quickly. The nice thing is that next year when you come back, you get the same room, the same students - except for those who have moved or graduated - and the same teacher. This really can be a good thing, especially if a girl like Michelle starts out with you in the same group. That had been two years ago, we had both been thirteen, and were now fifteen and in grade ten. The first time I saw her, I had decided that she was very pretty, but was more interested in staring at the older female students. That hadn't lasted long, as puberty had started to hit Michelle hard and fast. At fifteen, I had made a note of her birthday - it was a month before mine, she was a goddess. She stood two inches taller than me - a temporary problem I half hoped, and was built better than any Playboy playmate I had ever seen in my meager collection of the magazines. Her breasts were large and high and jiggled nicely in her bra when she moved quickly or had to run. Luckily, we both had PE at the same time, so I got to see her run quite a bit. Her legs were long and shapely, leading up to a fine, tight, round set of ass cheeks that I knew as well as the back of my hand. I watched them moving away from me at every chance I had. 'God, I wish it had been my hand and not my bag.' She had long red hair that reached almost down to that perfect ass. I was glad it wasn't any longer. I wouldn't want anything to hide that perfect set of cheeks. Her skin, what I had managed to see of it anyway, was a pale pink without any blemish except for an occasional cute freckle. In the two years+ that I had known her, I had never seen a pimple on her. Whatever she used seemed to work perfectly. I, myself, wasn't always so lucky. Her eyes, when I managed to look at them long enough, were a pale green, and her mouth and lips were almost always smiling. The best thing about her was her personality. I know, what you're thinking. With a body like that, she doesn't need a personality, but you're wrong. Out of all the girls I had met so far in high school, there were three types: the stuck-up snobs who only talked with their select group of in-crowd friends, the shy or afraid who only talked to you when they had to and never looked at you in the eyes, and the easy girls, the sluts who always seemed to be trying to jump the football team. Unfortunately for me, football was never my game, so I missed out on them. Then there was Michelle. Everybody liked Michelle, and she seemed to like everybody back. It wasn't just the guys trying to get into her tight pants either, but from the locker room talk, every male I knew, including the teachers, would have loved to. She talked to the grades 8's to 12's, and she never talked down or up to anybody. I liked her because she wasn't afraid to joke around in class. We had a long-standing frog guts throwing contest in biology class when our 60's reject teacher was zoned out. So far, the score there was about even. She asked me to help her if she had a problem she couldn't figure out, or if she had missed class and didn't follow what was currently going on. I would classify her as a friend and hoped that she would see me the same, at least for now. I was determined that, after today, we were going to be more than friends. This Friday, I hoped it was going to be my hand and not my bag that gets a good feel of that ass. Still sitting in the cooling bathwater, I noticed that all my thoughts of Michelle had brought the usual reaction out of me, and hurriedly got to work to get rid of it. Chapter 3 Friday, there was going to be a dance after school. It wasn't a holiday dance like Halloween or Christmas, and it was still two weeks until the spring break, so there wasn't any particular reason for the dance, but the timing was just right for me. I wasn't a particularly good dancer, but had been to a few of them before. Never on a real date with a girl, just by myself asking free girls to dance. I'd even danced with Michelle a few times. I thought of asking Michelle to go with me, but quickly chickened out on the idea. Luckily, it was a time when most people weren't couples. I know Michelle wasn't dating anyone seriously. She had for a few months last year, but it had ended rather abruptly, and the guy was now one of the few people in the school she wasn't friendly with anymore. Only a few of my friends had regular girlfriends, and even they were planning on going to the dance stag. I decided that was the way to go. Michelle would, for certain, be there. She hadn't missed one of the school dances since I'd known her. It was a long and frustrating two days waiting for Friday to come along, and when it finally did, the day was even worse. I fidgeted painfully in my desks for most of the day, imagining possible scenarios for that night, both good and bad. The good ones ended like something out of a Penthouse forum, and the bad ones ended with me being humiliated and having to leave the country from embarrassment. I didn't really expect either extreme to really happen, but hoped for the more positive outcome. There was a two-hour break after school ended before the dance was to officially begin, allowing time for students to go home and change clothes and clean themselves up if they wished to. After sweating nervously into my T-shirt all day, I certainly was one of them who wished to. I got home with lots of time to spare, sorted through what I should wear that night, and finally decided on a pair of pressed jeans and a fairly decent shirt. It was nothing fancy, but I didn't think anybody else would be dressing up too much for the dance. Stripping off my clothes, I jumped into the shower and quickly washed myself all over. Ending up with an erection again, I quickly jerked off, hoping that it would ease my tension and stop me from making a fool of myself that night. Not much luck at that. As soon as I got dried off and dressed, another one popped up right in my jeans. 'Oh, the joys of being fifteen and horny.' I was early for the dance when I arrived at the school, but so were most of the rest of the people. The dance was supposed to be open to all grades in the school, but rarely did any grades 8 and 9 show up. Those that did usually just stood nervously in the shadows and watched the rest, and the grade 12's thought themselves too old to mix with us youngsters. It was just the school gym that was to be the dance floor, and taped music to be danced to, but most of us still were enthusiastic about it. Five teachers were going to be the chaperones tonight, a dubious job keeping track of so many hormone-crazed teenagers, while another acted as DJ, playing the tapes and asking for requests from the dancers. I had quickly found Michelle in the crowd, chatting and laughing with a few other girls and giggling when a boy went over to occasionally talk with them. I wanted to ask her to dance when the first song started, but decided to wait my turn. I guess I wasn't the only one who wanted to dance with her tonight. So I sat out the first dance and discreetly watched her dance with another guy. She seemed to be enjoying herself, but she seemed to enjoy herself wherever she was and with whoever she was with. After the first song ended, I decided to make a move, but Michelle had already been pulled away by another guy, so I asked Kathy, Michelle's best friend, to dance instead. Usually lately, she had been dating a guy named Steve who was in grade 11, but I hadn't seen him tonight. While dancing, we made some small talk, and I found out that he was working at his father's car dealership that night. Making an over-dramatic leer at her, I said good, that way I had her all to myself that night. She just laughed and said to be careful, Steve had a bad temper. As the music started to end, I steered us toward where Michelle was dancing. I don't know if Kathy knew what I was doing, but she seemed to be allowing me to lead her around and smiled at me. I thanked Kathy most formally for allowing the pleasure of the dance, and she said 'Thank you, kind sir,' back to me before giggling and going off to join another group of her friends chatting together. When I turned, there was Michelle alone. I quickly reached her before any of the shark pack circling her could get to her and asked her to dance. She smirked knowingly back at me and quickly agreed. It was one of the most awkward moments of my life. For the whole five minutes, we just stared at each other, neither saying anything as we danced. It was almost a relief when the dance was over. I thanked her and almost ran off to the sidelines. Gulping down a too-sweet soda, I watched one of the sharks attack her and pull her away for the next dance. And on it went like that. I danced twice more with her, my brain and mouth freezing, just managing to make my arms and legs move to the music. Occasionally, she said something to me, and I answered something incomprehensible back to her. Then it turned 9:45. The dance was going to be over at 10:00. Grinding up my nerves, I decided for one more try. When I reached her, I just managed to gently pull her away from another admirer and asked her to dance again. She looked at me with a little bit of both surprise and curiosity, but agreed. Then, when the music started, it was a slow dance. It wasn't the first of the night, and I had danced a few times with other girls and sat out a few, but none of my other dances with Michelle had been slow dances. We loosely put our arms around each other and rocked slowly to the music as we both looked at each other nervously.Staring at her face, I saw a small drop of sweat start to run down her forehead, then down the side of her face. It had been an active night for her; I don't think she sat out a single dance. Reaching my hand up, I carefully wiped the bead of sweat away. "It's pretty hot in here, isn't it?" Michelle smiled in agreement. "It's all these bodies jumping around all night. It's almost as bad as PE." The teachers in charge had hours ago opened the outside doors to let some fresh air in and the heat out, but it was a warm spring, and it didn't seem to be helping much. I hadn't noticed at first, but Michelle was getting awfully close to me. It wasn't something I didn't want or enjoy, or fantasize about, but it was causing some problems with some of my bodily processes. Getting bumped slightly by another couple dancing behind her, she knocked herself against me and almost froze as she felt the lump in my jeans dig into her. We both flushed red at the same time and moved slightly away from each other, but continued the dance. "Is that for me?" she asked in a whisper that I barely managed to hear. When she realized what she'd said, and that I'd heard her, her face became even redder. "I can't be the first guy tonight that this has happened to dancing with you." She let out a muffled snort of laughter and shook her head, her long red hair dancing around her in waves. "No, not the first," she agreed. "One of the grade 9 boys asked me, and he could barely move, let alone dance the whole time." With a weak sigh of relief that she hadn't screamed or done something else to humiliate me, I laughed along with her. When the music finally stopped, we were still laughing nervously. We stayed together as we left the dance floor, but I had to stare down a few guys who began to approach us. I couldn't tell if she noticed or not, which was a bit of a relief. Only about a quarter of the people who had been there were still there, and the clock said there was only ten more minutes before the dance was officially over. "Will you walk me home, Simon?" I froze, not certain that I'd heard what I'd just heard. "Of course. I'd love to," I managed to stutter out, hoping it hadn't been my imagination. She took my hand and guided me toward one of the open doors to the outside. Mr. Gere, our homeroom teacher, was beside it. He smiled at both of us, said he'd see us Monday morning, then warned us to be careful in the dark. At least I think that's what he said, as all I could really notice was Michelle's hand in mine. Michelle lived only two blocks away from the school, so it wasn't a long walk to her home, but neither of us seemed to be in much of a hurry. It probably took us three times as long as it usually took her to walk from the school to her house. We talked about little things on the way: schoolwork and movies, books and sports. By the time we finally reached the hedges around her house, I didn't know what else to say. As we approached the gate between the hedges leading up to her house, she suddenly changed direction and pulled me into a little nook surrounded by tall, leafy bushes. Then she kissed me. If you ever watch TV or read a book, it's always the guy who starts the kiss, but I didn't mind much and went along with her. Her strong tongue pushed through my lips and into my mouth as it gracefully searched for my own. I gave it a little nibble with my teeth and felt her giggle under her breath. Sucking in my tongue into her mouth, she returned the nibble. I'd read about and seen French kissing before, but actually experiencing it was something else. It inspired a kind of hunger as we slowly tried to eat each other's lips and tongues. I'd always wondered what it would taste like to taste somebody else's tongue. It was indescribable, but powerful and pleasurable. We both finally had to stop, and could hear each other panting for breath in the near darkness of the nook. Neither of us said anything, but as soon as I could breathe normally again, I reached out for her, and felt her eagerly respond. This time, I used more than just my lips and tongue as I slowly ran my hands down her back and ended up gently cupping her ass in my hands. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I felt her giggle again. Then I jumped as I felt her own hands start to run down my back in reciprocation. After giving my ass a squeeze, our lips still locked together, her right hand slipped around and cupped the front of my jeans. Gently massaging the lump there, we both let out weak groans as we sucked on each other's faces. Then, giving me a sudden single peck on the lips, she said, "See you Monday," and rushed around the corner and up the walk to her house. I stood there, trembling, catching my breath, and hoping I hadn't done anything to drive her away. I thought about it, but couldn't find anything really wrong, and she had seemed happy enough, if a bit rushed. Stepping out of the nook, I started to head home when I noticed that the front of my jeans were wet. I had had an orgasm when she had been squeezing me through my jeans and hadn't even noticed it. Maybe she'd felt that and ran off. I hope that hadn't been it. As I started the long, uncomfortably sticky walk home, it finally dawned on me. For the first time, it had been somebody else's hand that had made me cum. Even if it had been through thick denim, it had been Michelle's hand that had done it. I was extremely cheerful all the way home and couldn't wait until Monday.I looked down at two small feminine hands and arms joined together just below my chest. Gulping nervously and taking a deep breath, I felt two large soft objects squeezing into my back, and immediately felt an answering lump begin in my front. "Michelle?" "Did you invite someone else tonight too?" she whispered into my right ear. I was very much enjoying the sensation of her arms around me and her breasts cushioning my back, but had a better idea. "I like this, Michelle, but it'd be even better if I turned around." She released me with a laugh and slowly spun me around. "I think so too, but it's getting a bit crowded for that right now." I hadn't noticed, but the early show had ended and the small crowd had begun to leave the theater. Grabbing Michelle's hand, I pulled her with me against the wall to get out of their way as we waited for a chance to go inside. At the door, she headed toward the ticket counter, but I told her I'd already bought us tickets. "I don't know about that. I'd prefer to pay my own way." "When I ask you out, I pay," I informed her. "When you ask me out, you can pay." She thought about that for a second before smiling back in agreement. "Okay, but I'll keep you to that promise." That felt pretty good to me. It almost sounded like a guarantee that she was going to ask me out sometime. "Where do you want to sit?" I asked her as we entered the hallway to the theater. It wasn't very crowded, and it didn't look like there was going to be many people showing up. "Come on," she said, pulling me with her into the back row of seats. It was pretty dark, even with the house lights still on, and I barely managed not to trip over the empty drink containers and popcorn boxes on the floor before she stopped, and we sat down in the middle two seats. "You want anything to eat or drink?" I asked. "I could go get us something." I could still see that smile, even in the dim light, as she shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Why don't we just sit and enjoy the quiet before the movie starts?" I was all for that. Here we were in a near-empty theater, sitting in the middle of the back row in the semi-darkness. I couldn't have arranged it better myself if I'd tried. Then it dawned in my thick head that I hadn't arranged anything. I'd asked Michelle to the movies, but the choice and everything else had been her decision. This looked like it was going to be a good night. A few other people had entered the theater since we had sat down and had looked to be moving toward our area but veered off when they noticed we were already there. I noticed that they had all been in pairs too. When the lights finally turned out and the coming attractions trailer started, I found that we had the entire back two rows to ourselves. Feeling confident, I slowly inched my hand down the arm of the chair until I was almost touching her, then slipped down an inch further until I felt warm, soft bare skin. I hadn't really paid attention to what Michelle had been wearing when she showed up. I just remembered that she was beautiful, and I was scared to death, but it came to me that she'd had a sweater and a knee-length skirt on. As I gently rubbed the soft skin with my hand, I felt her hand slide down and begin to knead my own knee through my pants. The coming attractions had finally ended, and the first scene of the movie before the opening credits started, not that I was paying much attention to the movie. "Look," I heard Michelle's mouth close to my ear whisper to me, and she pointed cautiously toward a couple three seats in front of us. Watching with her, I watched a couple only a few years older than us, their faces glued together and gently moving over each other. "Wow!" I whispered back to Michelle, turning my head to find her face still so close to me that I could feel her breath as she exhaled. Moving forward, I inched myself closer until I could just feel her lips touching my own. "I guess we're not the only ones here tonight," I more felt than heard her say. Slowly reaching out with my tongue, I followed the contour of her lips, from the left corner, around the top lip to the right corner, then back along her bottom lip to where I had started. All the while, I gently rubbed circles with my left hand on her bare right knee. "Hmmmmm," I felt and heard her hum softly, then felt her own tongue searching out for my own. Then she suddenly pulled back to sit upright and looked at the screen. "I always like this part." Disappointed, I looked to the screen just as the picture of Bond firing down the gun barrel faded away, and the opening titles began. The opening song began, it had been played so many times on the radio the last month to become familiar, and then the slightly obscured but obviously nude bodies of women dancing and running flitted tantalizingly across the screen. "When I was little, I always wanted to be one of those women," Michelle whispered to me. "I'd play James Bond themes in my room and try to dance and weave to the music." "I'd like to see that sometime," I whispered back to her. She laughed quietly and answered, "I don't know. It seems kind of embarrassing now." "If you really want to do it in a few years, I can't see them turning you down. They make one of these every couple of years. All you have to do is show up at the studio, and if they don't beg you to do it, they'd have to be a bunch of blind idiots." Michelle was still laughing slightly as I felt her mouth come back to mine. Coming back up for a breath, she whispered, "I don't know about that, but ask me sometime, and I might just dance for you." As the movie continued, we alternated between trying to swallow each other and taking short breaks to watch bits of the movie. Each time we started again, my hand inched further and further up her skirt, her skin getting warmer and softer with every little bit. "Oh my god," Michelle said, pulling up after one session. I thought I must be better than I thought until she gently shook her head toward the aisle. Two latecomers had joined the crowd. They had sat in the row in front of us but only a few seats in from the aisle. Like the couple in front of us, they had their faces glued together. It was interesting watching them make out, but it took me a moment in the almost darkness of the theater to discover what had excited Michelle so much. "They're both girls," I whispered to Michelle, then froze, hoping they hadn't overheard the comment. If they had, they ignored it and just kept doing what they were doing. "God," Michelle repeated as I felt her own grasping hand raise up on my leg almost to my crotch. I was a bit surprised at her reaction, but pleasantly so. As we continued to watch the new entertainment, our wandering hands finally reached their goals. I felt her grab and start to squeeze my hardened cock through my pants, while I felt a warm, velvety softness surrounded by tight little curls of hair. Again, I froze. 'Shit,' I thought. Michelle isn't wearing any panties. Our faces were glued together when I finally noticed, and as I froze, I felt her laugh against me. "I thought I'd give you your own surprise tonight." As I explored the new environment I had discovered, I felt her tremble slightly and heard a sharp little gasp as I found a little lump of hardness among the wet softness. I'd read enough Penthouse forums and seen enough pictures to mentally follow my hand as it made its search. The little knob was her clitoris, but just to make sure, I lightly circled my finger on it and felt her gasp again and her hand clutch harder on my cock. Not wanting to waste any of that unusual feeling, I reached to my pants with my free hand and undid the button and fly, first gently pulling Michelle's hand away, then pushing it back down the front of my underwear until I could feel her own skin on my cock and all balls. I wasn't sure how far to take this and was a bit worried about the usher seeing us. I had left my cock in my underwear and had slipped her hand inside, but that had been too much for the already stretched fabric, and everything ended up popping out over the elastic waistband. Our mouths clutched together, our tongues diving back and forth between them, I felt her start to stroke my cock and tease my balls as my own hand slid up and down her slit, my damp thumb circling around her clit, every few circles gently brushing up against it. Her slight trembling started to slowly increase in speed, while at the same time, her movements on my cock became harder and faster. Feeling my own orgasm start to build up, I felt brave and slipped a finger deep inside her and heard her stifle a groan in response. Suddenly, I felt her stiffen and clutch even tighter at my penis. That was just too much for me, and I shot out all over her hand and the back of the seat in front of me as I bit my own lip to stop myself from yelling. "Hmmmm," Michelle hummed a contented sigh to me as I felt her hand release my shrinking penis. My own was still gently stroking up and down in the wet pool under her skirt. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" she asked with a quiet laugh as she moved her hand in front of her and stared at the sticky mess that covered it. "I guess it must have been." For a minute, she just seemed to stare at the gooey cum covering her fingers and hand. I somewhat hoped that she would just stick her tongue out and lick it clean, and was a bit disappointed when she pulled a tissue out of her purse with her clean hand and started to wipe it away. I've had been reading way too many of these types of stories lately. She leaned her head over onto my shoulder contentedly before handing me another clean tissue to wipe myself, and the back of the chair in front of me, off. Afterward, my hand still gently clutching her under the skirt, we just leaned peacefully against each other and watched the movie for a bit. A little while later, I felt her head turn toward the two girls again.They had started going at it again. I couldn't see what their hands were doing to each other, but I could well imagine interesting possibilities. For a minute, I watched Michelle watching the two girls, and I noticed that she was getting excited by them. I had discovered that to easily gauge a girl's mood, you just have to have your hand plastered to her pussy and a finger deep inside it. It works as a kind of mood thermometer. "Have you ever kissed another girl?" I just had to ask. She pulled slightly back before she sighed and slumped back against me. "Well, just Kathy, and that more just to practice than anything else." I felt muscles tighten interestingly around my finger, and the dampness began to increase. In my own case, I also felt my cock begin to harden again. It had never really gone soft, try and see if you can get any teenage boy's cock to go soft when he has his hand buried in a beautiful girl's cunt, but now it was working its way back to full hardness. "Who do you think taught me how to French kiss?" I turned my head and pressed my open mouth to hers for a minute as our tongues waggled back and forth together. Finally pulling out, I said, "Please thank her for me. She must have been a very good teacher." I felt more than saw Michelle blush as her face heated up even further than it already was. Then I also felt her hand snake back down to my underwear, I had tucked myself back in afterward but hadn't done my pants or fly back up, and pull out my hard cock again. Taking this as encouragement, I started to really dig in into her wet pussy, slipping another finger inside and jerking them in and out as I rubbed whatever the rest of my hand could touch. Chapter 5 --------- It had been a long night for me. After the movie, we'd taken the bus back to the high school, that was the closest the city routes came to Michelle's house, and I walked her home. We paused again in the nook of bushes near the gate for a long, wet kiss before we said good night. That night, I slept more peacefully than I could ever remember, with only a few wet dreams of Michelle, her long red hair wrapped around us to keep me company. In the morning, I took my time showering, dressing, and eating my breakfast. My mother commented that I sure looked happy today, and my older brother asked how the movie last was. 'Great' I answered him. What I could remember seeing of it anyway. It was a twenty-minute walk from my house to the high school, and I took my time that morning. My insecurities about my relationship with Michelle had completely dissolved. It's amazing what having your hand buried in a girl's wet pussy for two hours can do to your confidence. This morning, it was Michelle who was waiting for me outside her locker. She smiled that Jell-O smile that melted my insides as she saw me heading toward her. "I had fun last night." "Me too." "Are you busy Friday night?" she asked me. "No, no," I answered quickly back. "For you, I'm free anytime." That hadn't taken long. I knew from what she had said last night that she was going to ask me out this time, but I just wasn't sure I could wait until Friday before seeing her again. "Great. We can go to the festival downtown together." Our city is a bit of a tourist trap, and all year round, there were events going on to bring in the suckers..., I mean tourists. It sounded great to me. Going anywhere together with Michelle sounded great, but I was hoping for something a little more private. "I'd love to go with you." The bell for first class rang. We didn't have Math together, Tuesday's first class for me, so had to go different ways. "We can discuss the details later," she said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before she ran off. God, it was going to be a long, hard four days. It hadn't been that bad. We never got time alone together for those days, but I saw quite a bit of Michelle, and she teased and hinted subtly about what she had planned for Friday. It was sort of fun in a frustrating and agonizing way. It was agreed this time that I'd pick her up at her place, and we could walk the few kilometers together. Even with all the hints, I wasn't sure exactly what Michelle had in mind, but I had decided to be prepared in any case. On my way home Friday, I stopped off at a drugstore, for privacy's sake not the one I usually use, and bought a box of condoms. It had been a troublesome and embarrassing experience. First, I had to surreptitiously find the aisle where they were sold, then try to find the best ones. I'd never known there were so many brands and different types, so I closed my eyes and grabbed the first ones my hand touched. Paying for them was even harder. Friday's at four PM is not exactly a quiet time in most drugstores, and I had to wait in a fairly long line-up before getting to the cash register. Then when I got there, the cashier, a girl who looked only a few years older than me, gave a knowing smile before ringing up the purchase and accepting my money. 'Do you want a bag for your condoms?' she finally asked loudly enough for everybody else in line behind me to hear. I didn't answer her, just stuffed the little box in my pocket and ran out the door. I must have covered a full kilometer before I finally slowed down enough to start to catch my breath. If I'd timed the run, I wouldn't have been in the least surprised if I'd broken some world record. 'Michelle,' I thought to myself. 'Please be worth all this trouble.' When I got to Michelle's at 6:00 to pick her up, she pulled me inside to meet her parents. I had seen them before at a few school outings, but had never talked to them before. It was a thankfully short, but excruciating moment. 'Sorry about that,' Michelle apologized as we started the long walk together. 'But they wanted to see who it was I was going with.' 'No problem,' I told her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer to me. 'They were just being parental. It's their job.' It hadn't taken that long to walk downtown, at least I hadn't really noticed the time as Michelle and I talked, my arm around her the whole time. As I'd been afraid of, it was pretty crowded. There were bands playing every couple of blocks, and crowds of locals and tourists gawking at the shows and performers that the fair had brought out. The streets in the center had been blocked off to cars, and the streets were full of noisy dancing people. Michelle pulled me in among them and began to move to the music. As I'd said earlier, I wasn't really much of a dancer, but I ate up the sight of Michelle swaying and gyrating to the music. "Michelle!" a high voice managed to break through the racket to get our attention. It was Kathy... and her boyfriend Steve. I haven't really described Kathy, but she is really a fox. She's a lot shorter than me with a thin, willowy body that she hasn't completely grown into yet. I had stared at Kathy a few times, but nowhere near as often as I watched Michelle. She had long, blond, almost yellow hair, that she'd done up in a ponytail that hung over the front of her right shoulder and down the side of her small breasts. Where Michelle was stacked, Kathy's chest seemed more delicate and budding. All in all, she was damn cute. Kathy shared most of the same classes that Michelle and I did, and we had talked a few times and shared a few jokes. She was a very nice girl and Michelle's best friend at school. "Hi, Simon," she said to me, giving a shy, knowing smile before she turned back to Michelle. 'God, had Michelle told her about what had happened to us in the last week?' I thought. I would have been a bit shocked, but not very surprised if she had. They'd always been close at school. I could almost always find them together, sometimes with a few of their other friends, talking and giggling about some secrets that us boys were never privy to. Michelle and Kathy hugged each other that way girls do and started asking each other what they'd seen and if they'd been to this or that yet. Steve just hovered in the background over Kathy's shoulder, watching Michelle in a way that was starting to get on my nerves. I know every guy that saw Michelle stared at her, but to do it while Kathy was there was a bit much. He was a year older than me, and it really showed. He was a good ten centimeters taller than me and a few kilos heavier. I wasn't really intimidated by that, but at the time, I wasn't about to tell him off in front of the girls. Michelle made a date to meet Kathy later in front of the McDonald's, then said good-bye as she pulled me after her. "'OOOOwww," she said with a shiver of disgust. "I can't stand that guy." "Steve?" I asked. I hadn't been sure she had noticed the way he looked at her, but I guess she had. "He is a creep, isn't he. The way he looked at you, I just wanted to shove his face into the asphalt." Michelle laughed in agreement. "Yeah. I just wish Kathy would dump him. I've told her enough times what I think of him, but she just doesn't want to listen. He doesn't treat her very good at all." We both watched over our shoulders until Kathy's shining ponytail and the creep had been lost in the thick crowd. "Come on. Let's go get something to eat. I'm starving," Michelle finally said, pulling me toward an outdoor food cart surrounded by people. It was a bit embarrassing, but she forced me to keep my promise and let her pay for everything that night. I got a few curious stares when she pulled her wallet out of her purse and paid for the drinks and hot-dogs we got from the cart, but I did my best to ignore them. It was a pleasant, if noisy, evening. We listened and watched and danced until we were too tired to do any more. Just before 9:00, Michelle dragged me to the McDonald's to wait for Kathy and Steve, but after fifteen minutes of waiting, we gave up on them. Michelle was sure it was Steve's fault - Kathy never was late for anything - and I agreed that she was probably right. By 10:00, the crowd had reached its peak.If there was anybody else in the city who wasn't already there, it would have been a surprise to me. Michelle pulled me along with her as we skirted the largest sections until we reached the streets surrounding the festival. The streets were completely empty of traffic and people, but not of cars. Every legal spot had a car in it, and quite a few illegal ones were filled up too. The towing companies would have had a field day if the city hadn't warned them to only tow cars that were a real hazard to public safety. Nobody wanted to scare away the tourists. "Let's go for a walk in the park," Michelle said as she led me down the dark streets. Another thing our city was famous for was its picturesque and green landscapes. Trees grew on almost every street, and parks, both little and large, were scattered between the residential and commercial districts. The one she was willingly dragging me to was one of the biggest and most tree-covered. It was one of the few that could still be called natural, as most of the trees were older than the city itself, and the rough pathways running through it made it seem more of a nature hike than a park. "It's pretty dark in here," I commented as I tripped over an exposed root for the fifth time. "We'd better be careful." "Oh, I'm sure you can protect me from all those fierce wild animals hunting the woods," Michelle said, giving me a hand up again. "And it's not like we have to worry about muggers. This isn't New York." As I just got to my feet, she gave a sudden extra jerk, and I plowed into her, almost knocking us both over this time. "Anyway, you can do lots of things in the dark that you can't do in the daytime." Taking the hint, my body tight against hers, I pulled her even closer until her soft bulges met my hard one. "What do you have in mind?" With that, she plastered her face to mine and started her hands roaming my body. In return, I sucked her tongue into my mouth and started to do the same. She was dressed very similarly as she had been on Monday, except her skirt was a bit longer, going almost all the way to the ground this time. Cupping an ass cheek with my left hand, it felt to me like she hadn't worn panties this time either. That was probably why the skirt was longer. With all that racing around and dancing we did at the festival, she would have been another attraction if she'd worn that sexy short thing she had to the movies. Lifting my right hand, I cupped a breast through her sweater. No bra either. This looked like it was going to be a very interesting night. Rubbing the sweater gently, I could feel the nipple harden through the material. Monday, with my hand buried in her pussy for the entire movie, I hadn't had much of a chance to touch those beautiful soft pillows under her sweater. Enjoying the feel through the sweater, I thought it would be even better if I could actually touch skin, so I slipped up the side of the sweater and cupped her right breast in my hand. God, she was stacked. I could feel her hard nipple digging into the center of my hand as it cupped the entire breast. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I felt her hum with pleasure as the palm of my hand rubbed her nipple. Our faces still glued together, I used the vibration of her groans and hums to try to find what she enjoyed best as I gently tugged and rubbed her breast. At the same time, I felt her hands move to my waist and start to undo my pants. The button was a bit of a problem for her in the near-total darkness, but the fly flew open easily as she touched the zipper at the top, as it was already under a great deal of strain from the inside. Together, her hands pulled down both the pants and my underwear until they reached my knees. I would have completely stepped out of them if she had wanted me to, but I felt a bit safer having the ability to quickly pull them up if anybody discovered us. We were in a public park in the middle of a big city, after all. Her hands now free, she found a good use for them as one gently cupped and squeezed my balls, and the other jerked at my erection. I didn't know quite what she had in mind for that night, but I wanted to really be inside of her when I came. Unfortunately, it was not to be, as the wonderful job she was doing on my cock quickly drove me over the edge. As she felt my balls begin to tighten, she aimed my penis to the side and continued to quickly jerk me. I let out a loud groan - I really didn't care if there was anybody else around to hear me - and shot out jets of sperm onto the grass and flowers by the trail we were standing on. "That should make good fertilizer," Michelle said as she pulled our mouths apart. I could sense that Jello smile now and felt my stomach quiver back at her in agreement. "Now I think you should last a little bit longer next time." "Next time?" I asked, still feeling weak from the orgasm. Hobbling along as best I could with my pants around my knees, I followed her off the path to a small, neatly trimmed plot of grass. Letting go of me, my hand slipped from out of her sweater as she lowered herself down to the ground. "Yes. I wanted our first time to last more than a couple of seconds." I liked the sound of that and hoped she meant what it sounded like. The little plot was lighter than the dark around it, the moon illuminating everything enough so I could actually see as Michelle reached down and slowly pulled her skirt up until it was bunched at her waist. I guess she wanted to have the ability for a quick retreat if we were caught too. I just stared down at the beautiful sight as I felt my slightly softened penis rush to get hard again. Then she used the hand that wasn't holding the skirt at her waist to slip her sweater up and over the top of her breasts. "Do you like me, Simon?" "Michelle, you are absolutely the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I truthfully told her as I looked down at her as she stretched out on the grass. "Then I want you to fuck me." I was a little surprised to hear her use the 'f word,' but enthusiastic about the idea. I almost just let myself jump onto her before I remembered the condoms in my jacket pocket. "Uh, Michelle... yes, but I was wondering about..., I bought some condoms, ... and I wondered..." Michelle let out a little laugh and reached over for her purse. It was a marvelous sight to watch her breasts distort and wiggle as she reached for it. She pulled a small foil package from her purse and handed it up to me. "Save them for another time. I get to pay for everything on this date." Looking at the little package, I tore it open and emptied the plastic piece inside it into my hand. Stretching it lightly between my fingers, I looked down at my cock and then uncertainly at the condom. Michelle let out a little laugh again and took it from my fumbling hands. "Here, let me do that for you." It felt almost magical as Michelle's small hands grabbed my cock and unrolled the plastic quickly over the top of it. I could tell that this wasn't the first time she had done that, but I didn't care right now if she had been boinking the entire school band on a regular basis. I lowered myself until I was on my hands and knees over her, then let myself drop lightly onto her. I felt her hand reach down and grab my cock and aim it in the right direction. "God, I'm so wet," Michelle murmured. "I really need you in me right now." The giving guy that I was, I let her have her way as I slowly pushed my body and felt myself go inside of her. As our groins hit each other, I realized I was entirely in Michelle. Looking down between those incredible breasts, all I could see was one mass of short curls as our pubic hair entangled itself. "Yes," Michelle whispered at me, and I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Lifting my head up, I looked right into her face, then briefly touched my lips to hers. I felt her hips gently move, and let out a groan of pleasure myself. I'd read a lot about how this moment was supposed to be, but reading is never quite the same as experiencing. I felt my own hips then respond reflexively with their own thrusting motion and heard Michelle return her own pleasurable groan. "You like that?" I asked, and felt her grip me tighter as she repeated the 'yes' she had just said. Her soft breasts cushioning my own chest, I supported myself as best as I could on my arms and knees as I continued to slowly pull out and ram back into that velvety cunt. I could hear both of our breathing start to speed up, and naturally responded by increasing the speed of my thrusts. Michelle was panting in labored gasps by the time I felt my balls tighten, and I emptied myself inside her. For another minute, I continued to pump my hips until my penis had shrunk almost back to normal size and slipped out of her hole. I would have liked to just keep going, but even at fifteen, I couldn't orgasm more than twice in a five-minute period. Leaning forward, I kissed her gently again, then shifted my weight so I could lie on my side next to her. "That was the most wonderful experience I've ever had," I told her as my hand reached up to slowly touch the nipple of the breast I hadn't gotten to the first time. "Hmmmmm," she hummed to me, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. "That was just..., hmmmmm," she said, repeating the sound. It almost sounded like a cat purring. I felt the nipple respond and engorge to my touch, so I gently started to tweak it. "That feels nice, too," Michelle said to me as she turned her head to look at me. "But we should do something about that." I followed her down to my condom-covered penis as it rubbed against her thigh. I reached down to slip it off, but stopped just before touching it. "What do I do with it?" I asked. I know that if I was strolling through the park and found a used condom by the path, I'd feel pretty nauseated. Pulling her purse to her again, Michelle pulled out a small plastic bag. "We can get rid of them on the way home later."Gently stripping off the cum-filled condom, I quickly dumped it into the plastic bag. Then I jumped as I felt Michelle touch my cock and looked to see her wiping it off with a tissue from her purse. "Are you sure you're not part boy scout?" I asked her as I held the bag open for her to add the used tissue. She laughed again. "No, I just like preparing for everything." At that, I leaned forward and kissed her again while my hand pinched and kneaded her breast. "That wasn't the first time for me," she told me. "But I really wish it was." "I kind of figured that out when you knew how to fit the condom on me so easily." She snorted lightly. "That I can do, but I haven't done that many times either. Just with Jay a couple of times when we were dating last year. But that didn't turn out too well." Leaning my head on my elbow, I listened as she told me about her and Jay. They hadn't gone out that long, but she had been extremely horny at the time. When Jay had made a move on her, she almost jumped at the chance. It had been more than a bit of a disappointment. Jay's idea of sex was to shove into her, move once or twice, and then shoot off. The only thing she got out of it was the knowledge of how to put a condom onto a penis. I kissed her gently after that, internally cursing Jay. The guy was obviously an asshole for having treated Michelle like that. Pulling away from her, I looked at her and asked if it was all right if I did something I've always wanted to do. She seemed a bit curious, but quickly said I could do what I wanted. Inching down slightly, I lowered my head and began to kiss her breast, then sucked in a nipple and used my lips and teeth to gently tug it. "Ohhhh, that you can do as much of as you like," Michelle added her agreement again. As I gently sucked one nipple then the other, something she had said earlier came back to me. 'Them,' she had said when she had given me the plastic bag to put the used condom in. Chapter 6 --------- I had been right about the 'Them.' It hadn't been long before Michelle slipped another condom on me. I now knew how to do it myself, but it felt better when she did it. For the second time, I took the bottom and Michelle took the top. The first time we had fucked, I wasn't sure how far she had really gone, but there was no doubt to me that she reached her peak that second time. The third time, she got on her hands and knees, and I entered her from behind, taking it slow and easy until we both went off together. By that time, it was after 11:00, and we decided we had better head back. Michelle's curfew had been set at 11, but her mom wouldn't mind so much as long as she got back before midnight. We didn't realize how much of a mess we had become until we got out of the park and back under the streetlights. Both of us were covered with grass stains, and I spent a few minutes picking little blades of grass out of Michelle's long hair as we walked. I was worried that it might get Michelle into trouble, but she assured me that her mother would be cool about it and probably not even mention her disheveled appearance. Her dad would probably explode if he saw her, but she was sure her mom could sneak her inside and by him before he got a good look. I dumped the little plastic bag and its gooey contents into the first trash can I could find. I was starting to really like that little nook outside Michelle's house as we said our good-byes. I told her I'd phone her tomorrow afternoon, and she said to make it tomorrow night because she had too much to do tomorrow. Then with a final delicious kiss, she ran off to try and sneak into her house. I phoned her at nine the next night, and we talked for about an hour. She said she'd had no problem getting inside, and had just got a little lecture from her mom to be careful what she did. I agreed with her that she definitely had the coolest mother there was. The entire phone call, she seemed excited about something, but when I asked her about it, she just told me to wait until Monday morning at school. She was planning something, but didn't want to tell me about it until she was sure she could do it. It sounded a bit ominous to me, and I hated a mystery, but thought I could hold out for the day and a half. "Simon, how would you like to spend spring break with me?" she asked me Monday morning in front of my locker. I was thrilled. Spending a week with Michelle would be a dream come true. I had been planning to go to a friend of mine's cabin for the break, but that I could get out of. His parents had a nice place by a lake out in the boonies, and I'd gone with them a couple of times, but that versus Michelle wasn't even a contest. "My parents were taking me and my little brother down to Florida. He wants to go to Disneyworld." That didn't sound too bad to me. "But with all these reports and homework due right after the break, I don't think I could make it." I wasn't sure what she was talking about. Sure, most teachers assigned something to do during the break, but there wasn't anything that time-consuming that I knew of coming up. "So I asked my parents if it was all right if I stayed here when they left. I didn't want my school to suffer because I was going away, and Mikey was so looking forward to going to Disneyworld. It took a while, but I convinced them. My mom was a big help. She'd said since my 16th birthday is less than a month away, I was old enough to look after myself. My dad put up a little bit of a fight, but she won him over." I stood frozen and stared at her. She had really been surprising me lately. "So do you want to come and stay with me for the break?" Five days with Michelle. Nine if I counted the weekend before and after. I was in heaven. "My mom just said no parties and I was only allowed people over to study with." Michelle for nine days. "So? You want to come study some sex Ed. with me?" It didn't take much coaxing from her. I told Ryan, my friend with the cabin by the lake, that I couldn't make the trip this time, but thanks for the offer. He was curious what was going to make me miss it, but I ducked around it. I wasn't about to tell him about Michelle and have it being blabbed all over the school. Ryan was my friend, but his brain was a sieve when it came to secrets. My mom, my parents were divorced, and my dad lived on the other side of the country, I told nothing. She was already thinking I was going with Ryan Saturday to his family's cabin, so I let her continue to think that. It wasn't really a lie. I just never informed her about my new plans. Instead, I just packed a backpack with clothes and the school books I'd need. I figured that I couldn't have sex with Michelle for nine straight days, and we'd probably have some time to study. It might make her mom happier if she ever found out. I also threw in a few things, like my collapsible fishing rod, that I'd usually bring with me to the lake just so my mom wouldn't get suspicious. Saturday - Day 1 ---------------- So Saturday morning at 9:00, I said good-bye to my mother and older brother, the only one of my siblings still living at home, and pretended to head off to Ryan's place. Instead, I headed to that park that Michelle and I had been at. It looked quite a bit different in the daytime, and I found a nice secluded bench and sat to wait. Michelle's family's flight didn't leave until 4:00, but they'd planned on leaving about 2:00 to go to the airport. Michelle would have gone with them, but since she didn't have her driver's license yet, and the bus trip to the airport was such a long one, she was going to say her good-byes from home. I waited until 2:30, just to be on the safe side, before going to her house. I knocked on the door and heard her quickly unlock it. "Honey I'm home," I said, hoping to sound cool, then froze with my mouth wide open as I saw her standing in the open doorway. I felt my mouth starting to really water and quickly closed it before I started to drool on the welcome mat. "Do you like it?" Michelle asked me, already knowing the answer. "I borrowed it from my mother's closet, but I don't think she'll mind." My first thought was that Michelle's dad was certainly a lucky guy. My second was to rush inside and then close the door before somebody on the street saw her and she got arrested for indecent exposure. It was that kind of outfit. I didn't know the name for it, but it was some sort of lingerie. Lacy and mostly transparent, it hugged Michelle's curves tightly, accentuating her natural assets to their fullest. Michelle's large breasts were almost falling out, it was so tight, and her large chunky nipples could be seen poking through the thin material toward me. The crotch of the one-piece outfit was so tight I could see both of the lips of her vagina and the little button of her clit poking through the already dampening material. "If you don't like it, I could always take it off," Michelle said coyly, watching my reaction. That was too much for me, and I dropped my backpack with a loud thump behind me and pulled her to me. After coming up for air, I told her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world, but taking it off was her choice. Personally, I could be happy just sitting for the rest of the day and looking at her. "But that wouldn't be any fun," she told me after another wet kiss. "And we're supposed to be studying, remember?" "Right. Sexual Education. And I always try to get an 'A' in every class." "Come on then," she said as she pulled me away from the door and into the living room. "Let's start today's lesson." I watched as she sensually removed the outfit, first gently pulling one breast out the top, then the other, and then slowly lowering it to the floor and kicking it away. "My god, you're beautiful." I looked at her over and over until my eyes stopped on the small mound of pubic hair between her legs.It had been mostly shaved away except for a little heart-shaped clump of fine red curls. "Do you like it?" Michelle asked me. "Kathy shaved hers like this and I asked her how she did it." "Kathy shaved your pussy?" I asked as I gazed worshipfully at it. "No!" she said, flushing a lovely shade of pink. "She just told me what to do. I did it myself." "You did a lovely job," I said as I reached over and ran my hand through the soft little curls. "Your turn now," she insisted as she started to unbutton my shirt. I started to help, but she told me she wanted to do it herself. My cock had been hard already, just seeing her, but by the time all my clothes had been neatly folded on a chair, I was afraid that it would explode as soon as she touched it. "It really looks like you're happy to see me," she said as she stared down at my penis thrusting up toward her. "It looks so big." My cock isn't huge by any standards, but I liked the compliment. I've measured it a number of times, and its average size when erect is about 16 centimeters, give or take a centimeter depending on how excited I am. 16 centimeters or about six inches is small if I can believe all the stories I've read, but it gives me enough problems as it is, so I really didn't want it any bigger. I can't understand how anybody with a foot-long cock could survive high school. I know when I get an erection in my pants, it feels so uncomfortable and sometimes painful that I can't move and certainly can't walk around. I'm sure a foot-long one would have snapped in two long ago. Michelle reached down and touched me, and I felt my cock jump, but I was glad to find that I hadn't shot all over her yet. "I've never really seen one in the light before." As I looked at her looking at me in the full light of the living room, I realized that I had never seen her in the light like this before either. The theater had been too dark to really see anything, and in the park, I could just see general shapes and shadows. I wanted to get a good look at her too. "My god, you're beautiful," I repeated, and saw her flush pink again. She was so busy looking me over that she certainly didn't take any offense as I devoured her body with my eyes. For such a tall girl, she had such tiny, delicate feet. She was in excellent shape, and I followed her leg muscles up to her knees and then up her thighs, where her hips started to expand and round themselves. Her stomach was flat but not overly muscled, and her cute little belly button stuck out slightly. She was an outie. Reaching out with my hand, I lightly touched it and felt her gasp and shiver in response. Her shoulders were her only overly muscled area; her arms were fairly thin and delicate looking, but probably needed to be to support those huge mounds on her front that seemed to defy gravity as if they were floating on air. As I've said before, Michelle was stacked. I could cup one of her breasts in my hand, which I did, but to really get a good hold of one, I needed both hands, and even then, there was a lot of flesh overflowing them. "You enjoying yourself?" Michelle asked with a giggle. I just nodded back to her as I touched and prodded the flesh before me. "Then I guess you don't want to fuck me." I looked up at her, straight into those lovely green eyes, and said, "Anytime." I moved away to head toward the pack I'd left by the front door, but she caught my arm and stopped me. "Where are you going?" "Well, I brought those condoms I never used. I thought they might be needed." She shook her head, and I smiled as her long hair danced around her. "Uh-uh. Not this time." That was when she told me what she'd done. It seems that the day after we'd gone to the movies, she'd made an appointment with her family doctor, but couldn't get into to see him until Saturday, the day after our date at the festival. He'd been her doctor her whole life and was getting pretty old, he was nearly fifty, but he'd always been understanding about any problem she had. She'd been nervous about asking him, but he'd just talked to her for a few minutes, then wrote out a prescription for birth control pills. "I'm supposed to tell you that he thinks you're a very lucky young man," she added, still more than a little pink. "I was hoping to be on them before the festival, but couldn't get an appointment any earlier, and I was too horny to wait any longer." "You mean..." "Yup, no more condoms." I pulled her to me and kissed her, and felt all that bare skin as our bodies came together. When our groins touched, we both let out simultaneous groans of pleasure but didn't let each other's mouths go. "How do you want to do it?" "I don't know," she said uncertainly. "I just want to do it." Smiling at her, I dropped to the plush carpet and lay down on my back. "You get on top. You seemed to like it that way the last time." "Yeah, that was great," she admitted, flushed now with more than just embarrassment. Stepping over me, with one foot on each side, she squatted down, then slipped onto her knees. "Hmmmm," she let out that same purring sound as the first little bit of my cock entered that slippery hole between her legs. Then she collapsed, letting me push all the way inside her, and started wiggling and gyrating her whole body. I almost shot when her wet vagina first touched me, the sensation was so much better this time without that layer of plastic between us, but managed to hold out for twenty or thirty seconds before I gasped, and my hips started to jerk up and down uncontrollably. Gasping for breath, I kept pumping as I squirted inside her. Neither of us slowed down, and my cock didn't soften any. If anything, it felt harder than it had ever been, as we continued to thrash around. Looking up at her, I could see her breasts bobbing up and down and left and right, her head thrown back. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was wide open as she sucked in gasps of air. I doubt it was more than a few more minutes before I felt her cunt muscles start to spasm and clutch my cock even tighter. She let out a long scream that set me off for a second time, and I felt my balls tighten and the cum pour out of me into her. After a moment, she collapsed forward onto me, her nipples pleasantly digging into me as she lay sweaty and gasping for air. "That was a good one," she finally managed to say when she caught her breath. Kissing her back in agreement, I just hugged our wet bodies together until we felt strong enough to move again. Both of us wobbly getting to our feet, we laughed at each other until our legs felt they could support us. Then, completely naked, a mixture of our juices running down the inside of Michelle's legs and my cock, she gave me the grand tour of the house. Her family was definitely a bit better off than mine, but she didn't rub it in or show off. She just wanted me to know where I'd be living for the next week and a bit. She'd shut all the blinds and curtains in the house before I'd arrived. "I can't see us wearing much the whole week, and I don't like the neighbors THAT much," she explained. There was the kitchen and dining room, which except for the size and quality of the furnishings didn't look that different than mine. There was her father's study and her mother's art room, she liked to dabble at pottery and painting from time to time, and the downstairs bathroom and the laundry room. I'd already seen the hallway and the living room, but couldn't even remember what color the carpet was in there - just that it was soft on the back. She pulled me up the stairs into her parents' bedroom. The bed was enormous, more than big enough for two people, and right over the top of it was a skylight almost the same size. That was the only window Michelle hadn't covered up; you'd have to be flying to be able to see inside. "Your house probably gets buzzed by helicopters a lot," I said and got the sweet-sounding laugh back I'd been trying for. Her parents had their own bathroom. Their own HUGE bathroom. It was almost the same size as the bedroom itself. One side had a wall of closed cupboards with a double sink next to it and what looked like two toilets next to each other. "That's a bidet," Michelle informed me, pressing on a lever. I watched as water sprayed up from the center and then splashed back down inside the bowl. Staring somewhat fascinated by the device, I finally said, "Your mother must spend a lot of time in here." Michelle let out a series of little giggles in return, then pulled me to the other side of the room. One corner had blind-covered windows and a huge bathtub underneath it. It was big enough for quite a few people. "It's a Jacuzzi bath," Michelle said, bending over to show me the vents that swirled the water around when the bath was full. I didn't get a very good look at them since my eyes were glued to her round ass as she bent over. "My parents sometimes like to have baths together." That comment gained a look from me, and I saw that it had made her flush that pretty pink again. The other corner was a wood-paneled walk-in shower. Looking up, I could see a number of shower heads pointing down and another group of them running down one of the walls. A small bench sat across from the wall heads, right at the point where they all aimed. "You must have very clean parents." Michelle flushed pink again, I was coming to love that color, before pulling me back outside, then through the bedroom and back into the hall. "That's my brother's bedroom," she said, pointing toward a closed door. "I wouldn't even go in there at the best of times." Then she showed me another bathroom, this one much more normal-looking. It had a normal-sized tub/shower combination and the usual other bathroom attachments. "What, no bidet?" I had to ask her. She just laughed again and pointed out the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. Then came the ultimate. "And this is my bedroom," she said, pulling me into the last room upstairs."So this is what heaven looks like," I whispered. She must have heard me, and I got that pink color back, but this time it was added to that Jello smile that so made me weak. It felt a bit like how I felt when I had tried to get up from the carpet downstairs. "Wow," I said, and really meant it. The room was something else. The ceiling was a sky blue, and the carpet was the green color of grass. The exterior wall was one big photograph taken from somewhere in the mountains with lots of trees, up-thrusting peaks, and a lake in the center, with large water-colored curtains covering what I guessed to be the window in the center of that. The other walls were covered in the usual girl pictures and paraphernalia, stuffed toys and the like. There was a dressing table and mirror with a bench slipped underneath it, and a large chest of drawers with an assortment of small porcelain and glass creatures on top of it. Walking to the dresser, I lifted a delicately crafted unicorn up and peered at it. "I used to collect unicorns when I was a little girl," she said, taking the little beast from me and carefully putting it exactly in the place I had gotten it from. "So that's where you must have got that liking for long things pointing at you from." She stared at me and noticed that the unicorn horn was not the only thing pointing at her anymore. Taking her hand, I pulled her with me and stopped at the side of her bed. "So this must be your bed then." She was still looking at me. "It looks nice and soft. How are the springs?" She broke out in a long string of uncontrollable giggling before I pulled her to me and added, "Want to try them out." Still giggling, she lay on her back on the bed and pulled me down toward her. Later that night, we lay together in her parents' bed. Her own had worked perfectly, but if we wanted to have anything but great sex on it, we needed something bigger. I could see the stars in the clear night sky through the skylight above us and could feel the gentle breeze of Michelle's breath on my cheek as she slept peacefully next to me. We'd talked for a long time after we'd made love, and both had gotten a good laugh at how we had finally gotten together. I'd told her about the little accident with my bag and her ass, and she'd told me how she'd spent two hours the day before the festival searching nearby parks before she had found the spot she had eventually brought me to afterwards. Sexual Education lessons seemed to be going very well. All together, we must have had sex at least ten times that afternoon and night, and the soreness in my penis echoed it. That means we had fucked at least eight times and made love twice. That was the first lesson we learned together that day. That fucking and making love were two different things. Fucking was quick and aggressive, and by the time we were through, we were both always exhausted and dripping sweat. Making love was a slow process where we joined our bodies together until we both exploded in ecstasy. Afterward, we just held each other and enjoyed the sweet aftertaste sensations. I have to admit I certainly loved to fuck Michelle, and she returned the sentiment enthusiastically, but we both agreed that making love was even better, and the explosion of orgasms felt even more intense and lasted longer. As I felt myself drifting to sleep, Michelle's arm draped over me, her breasts crushed against my chest, I realized that I had learned something else that night. There was no other sensation better than falling asleep with a warm, beautiful girl entangled with you. Chapter 7 Sunday Day 2 I woke up the next morning as I felt Michelle shift from the bed and go into the bathroom. When she came back up, I was sitting crossed-legged on the bed watching her. Her hair was a bit of a frazzled mess, and she looked like she could use a shower, after yesterday I'm sure we both needed one, but she was still achingly beautiful. Jumping off the mattress, I ran past her to use the facilities myself, then laughed as I gave the bidet's handle a pull at the same time as I flushed the toilet. The things some people dream up. Michelle was sitting on the side of the bed waiting for me when I came back out, stifling a big yawn as she tried to wake herself up. Looking at the clock, I was surprised to find that it was after 11:00. That didn't really matter though, there was no one around but us to care what time we slept in to, and we had stayed up pretty late last night. Dropping next to her, I felt the bed shake, and watched as her breasts bobbed up and down, and felt a familiar tingle in my loins. I felt my sore cock begin to struggle to expand, but tried to will it back down. After yesterday, I doubted that either Michelle or I were quite ready for another round yet. "What's up for today?" I asked her. Michelle smiled back at me, then looked down at my slightly twitching cock. "I hope nothing for a little while. I'm a bit sore down there." "Me too," I admitted with a grin. "I think we overdid it a bit yesterday." Michelle leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. "Yes, but it was a good sort of over-doing." "How about we start the day with a shower?" I asked. She turned to look at me with a sly look on her face. "Simon, you're not telling me I smell, are you?" I laughed and bussed her lips once. "If we both don't reek, it would be a miracle. But really, I just want to try that gadget in your parents' bathroom. And see what you look like all dripping wet." "I thought you'd already seen me all dripping wet," Michelle teased, spreading her legs wide. Laughing, I stood and pulled her after me into the bathroom. I was dying to try that big shower room, but was a little intimidated by it. With Michelle along for a guide, I hoped it would be easier. "I've only used it a couple of times myself," Michelle admitted, "but my mom showed me how everything operated when they had it installed. It's not really that complicated." Michelle turned on the water, and it started to gush out of a small, normal-shaped faucet near the bottom of the shower floor. "That's so the temperature can be judged before you step inside. It's no fun standing under a sudden spray of freezing or boiling water." Fiddling with the cold and hot water knobs, she finally got a satisfactory temperature. Next, she pointed out a series of buttons near the door. "Each shower head has its own on/off switch. You can turn one on at a time or all at once if you really want to get drenched. Get inside, and I'll show you what I mean." She gave me a pat and a shove on the ass, pushing me into the middle of the shower room. Looking up, I inspected the multiple heads along the ceiling, then the four along the side of the wall. Whoever designed this thing liked making things complicated. I'd always thought of a shower as just a place to get clean, but this thing was like some big kid's toy. "Here we go," Michelle said, standing just outside the door as she pressed all the buttons at once. I jumped and let out a scream as eight jets of chilly water hit me at once. Giggling at the doorway, Michelle said, "It takes a second for the pipes to clear." The chill quickly disappeared, and then the sprays became deliciously warm, drenching me from head to foot. Reaching out for Michelle, I pulled her into the downpour with me. Giggling together, we wiggled about until we had let the jets hit every centimeter of our bodies. Stepping to what looked like a small medicine cabinet on the wall, she took out two bars of soap and threw one to me. Of course, I couldn't catch the slippery object, and it fell to the floor. I think that had been her idea since when I bent over to pick it up, I felt and heard a loud smack as she slapped me on my bare behind. "Oh, I'm going to get you for that," I declared as I stood back up and rounded on her. The little room wasn't big enough for a real chase, but we had fun trying to catch each other. When I finally had a good hold of her, I started to scrub her down with that bar of soap she'd tossed me, and still laughing, she returned the favor. If we both hadn't still been so sore and drained from last night, I'm sure a lot more would have happened in that shower. I know my painful erection had wanted more, but neither of us were up for it. Still, tomorrow would be another day, and then Michelle had better watch out. Out of the shower, we dried each other off. As I stroked her back, I heard her stomach rumble, and felt mine answer back. "God, I'm hungry. How about I make us some brunch?" "Brunch?" Michelle asked. "Well, it's almost 11:30. It's too late for breakfast, and still too early for lunch. What would you call it?" Michelle agreed, and I left her upstairs on the bed to brush out that long red hair of hers while I raided the kitchen to see what there was to eat. From there, it almost seemed a normal day. We ate together and then studied and did homework for most of the afternoon. At least that was something our parents would be pleased about if they ever found out what we were doing. The only really unusual thing was that we did it all buck naked. Since it was just us two alone, Michelle decided the 'au naturale' look would suit her just fine. I didn't even pretend to have a problem with that. Like I said, Michelle and I had almost all the same classes together, all except math and physics. Michelle was extremely smart in most things, but had some trouble with numbers sometimes and didn't have the grades there for the honor courses. First, we started on the work we both had to do, which went extremely fast together. Then we helped each other in the other subjects. It was sort of fun watching Michelle work through a complicated problem. She'd nibble on the end of a pen or pencil, her bare breasts sitting on the table in front, a cute frown of concentration on her face. I tried to be supportive but only offered any help if she said she needed it.I think it was watching her like that that must have triggered our first sex of the day. It was about 4:00 and I had begun to sprout an erection under the table as I watched her work and saw her breasts jiggle as she wrote things down or leaned back and forward in her chair. My cock was still slightly sore, but I thought I could live with it. "How are you feeling?" I asked Michelle as she erased something with the end of a pencil. "Huh," she said, looking at me uncertainly before that Jell-O smile crept onto her face and she flushed. It was an amazing sight watching her as I could actually see her nipples start to tighten as she realized what I had in mind. "Not too bad right now. I don't think I'd like to try to run a marathon, but I'm up for anything else you might have in mind." As I stood up, she really grinned as she saw my state. I crossed the table to her and began to nibble on her ears and neck. Letting a hand slip into her lap and onto her pussy, I felt a dampness start to seep out of it. "Yes, you feel pretty good to me." That first sex of that day was a mixture of both fucking and making love. We both took it slow, each knowing the other was still a little rough from last night, but we were both too excited to pace ourselves much. Trying something different, I pulled her into the living room and I sat down in what I found out was her father's leather recliner. Pushing the handles, I let the footrest up and lay outstretched in the chair. Getting the idea, Michelle stepped so my feet were between her knees and inched herself forward until she was just in front of my cock. Giving me a look that showed she was uncertain how to proceed now, I helped by reaching out to catch an ass cheek in each hand and boosted her up and forward onto my waiting cock. Grabbing the armrests for support, she very slowly lowered herself down onto me until I was embedded completely inside that tight, warm cavity. We didn't move for a bit, just sat there together enjoying the feeling of our two bodies connecting. Michelle was the first to move, rocking slightly forward then back again. It felt so wonderful that I started to assist the movement until we could hear the boards and the springs of the chair squeaking underneath us. It was just bad timing that sent us both rocking in the same direction at the same time and sent the chair over backwards with us inside it. As we hit the carpet with a loud crack, I had my arms tightly wrapped around Michelle's midsection to try and protect her from the impact. Luckily, the chair absorbed most of it, and the worst thing that happened was me getting slapped in the face by Michelle's giant mammaries. Amazingly, we found ourselves still in the chair, my feet sticking now straight up in the air and my cock still in Michelle's vise-like grip. "Are you okay?" I asked, trying to breathe around the two soft pillows of flesh. "Yeah," Michelle answered with a nervous tremor. "...I just hope we didn't break my dad's favorite chair." We hadn't, we found out a few minutes later after we had finished what we had begun in the chair. It was a bit of an awkward and uncomfortable position, but Michelle just moved her legs to help support us better and started to grind her groin back at me. 'What a girl!' I said to myself as I joined her. We both let out screams seconds later as we both climaxed together. Now I understand what I've read when it said that fear and adrenaline can make sex more exciting. "Should I stand up and give the neighbors a thrill?" Michelle asked as we sat opposite each other in the Jacuzzi bath. "Huh!" I answered as I splashed water at her. "With you living here, they probably all stay by their windows with binoculars just to get a little flash." It was late at night when Michelle suggested a good hot soak. She'd filled the tub, told me to get in, then turned on the agitators. It felt a little weird at first, but after a short while, I grew to like it. If I sat on one of the vents, it really became downright pleasurable. I had been surprised when Michelle reached up and opened the blinds that covered the picture window only a foot higher than the top of the tub. Flipping a switch next to the one that turned on the Jacuzzi, the bathroom lights went out. "If we don't stand up, nobody can see us," Michelle told me as I saw her move her seat a little bit. A sudden smile told me that she'd found another of the vents that was circulating the water in the tub. "Why don't we both stand up, and we can really show them something," I said with a leer before I slipped across the tub to cuddle beside her. "Simon, you have a very dirty mind, you know." "And you have certainly helped the quality of those thoughts lately," I agreed. "Maybe this will inspire another one." With that, she raised herself up and then plopped down into my lap. I didn't have an erection at the time, but her squirming behind was certainly going to change that soon. Then I had an idea. It sounded interesting to me, and I'm sure Michelle would enjoy it. Moving her slightly over and away from me, I wrapped my arms around her, took a breast in each hand, and then told her to stay still. Looking over her shoulder at me, she asked, "What do you have in mind?" "Just wait and see," I asked her as I gently squeezed her breasts, lightly teasing the nipples between my fingers. "I just want to see if I can do something." Michelle was curious but obeyed me. The squirming had started it, but it was the feel of her breasts that really helping it along. I felt my cock start to fill with more blood and slowly raise itself up. "Oh," Michelle let out a little squeak as she felt the head touch and enter her from below. It seemed a long time to me, but it was probably only a few seconds, but as it grew, it pushed its way up and deeper inside Michelle's soft tunnel. "Oh, my," Michelle said with a weak, shuddering sigh after I reached my full size and was buried in her. "That was something. I could actually feel you getting bigger inside me." "It was something I just thought up," I told her as I started to wiggle and gently thrust my hips. "I didn't know if I could do it. I think the water helped a bit. It helps make things lighter." "You're not calling me heavy, are you?" Michelle said over her shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eye. I answered back with a hard upward thrust that caused her to gasp in pleasure. "The only thing heavy about you is these," I said, giving her breasts another squeeze, "...and I like them just the way they are." "Hmmm," she replied with that soft purr of hers. Enjoying the warm water and bubbles circulating around me, I just held on from behind her as we continued to move against each other. All the sex yesterday and today had given me a real feel for Michelle and a lot more self-control as I waited for her to reach her peak before I let myself go. With a high-pitched squeal, Michelle had an orgasm. Her cunt clutching madly at me, I couldn't hold on anymore myself and shot off a stream of cum into her. After we had calmed down a bit, Michelle wiggled herself around, my softening cock still in her, until she faced me. Wrapping her arms around me, she leaned forward and kissed me. Then leaning her head on my shoulder, we just held on to each other and enjoyed the warm comfort of the pool. Monday - Day 3 -------------------- That shower had been made for sex. We'd pulled the wooden bench from the wall into the center of the room, and Michelle lay on her back on it, her ass just slightly overhanging the edge. I dropped to my knees between her bent legs, using a wet towel for protection from the hard tile floor. Michelle raised her head for a better look as I fisted my cock into the base of her dripping pussy and shoved it in with a single push. As I started humping her for our first fuck of the day, her long legs wrapped around my back and pulled me even tighter inside. "That's better," Michelle said with a lustful sigh. "I want to feel you. Come on! Deeper! Go deeper!" That was all the encouragement I needed as I pushed as hard as I could again and again into her. The wet wood of the bench squeaked from our exertion as the hot, steaming water pounded down on us from above. "Yes! Yes!" Michelle screamed as I felt her legs pull me even tighter. I could actually feel the head of my cock hitting something solid as I reached deeper into her depths than I had ever touched before. With one more "Yes!" I felt Michelle start to tremble as her cunt clamped down hard on me and sucked me tightly into her. That was just too much for me, and I joined her with a primal animal scream of my own as I shot load after load of semen inside her spasming womb. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I pulled her body up to me and hungrily pushed my mouth to hers. As the final spasm slowly settled down, we let out a sigh of contentment into each other's joined mouths. "God!" Michelle said as she pulled her face away, her breaths coming out in ragged pants. "No wonder mom and dad spend so much time in here." I hadn't broached the subject with Michelle on my short stay here, but it was easy to tell that Michelle's parents were just as into sex as she was starting to become. Hell, if the bedroom with that huge bed and skylight hadn't told me that, this bathroom certainly did. Her legs still wrapped around my back, still holding me to her, and my softening cock still buried inside her, I had to say, "Your parents sound like fun people." Michelle giggled and agreed. "Oh, they're certainly into sex. I'd know more, but they had both their bedroom and this bathroom soundproofed when I was little. I imagine my mom can get pretty wild." "You must take after her then," I said as I began to nibble on her neck. Inside her, I felt my cock start to twitch as it started to expand again. "Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment. My dad, though, is a bit of a stick in the mud. He even turns blushed when he sees two people kiss on TV.""I don't know how mom handles him." "Like... I... said," I started to nibble and suck on her right nipple between words. "If... she's.... anything... like... you... she... wouldn't... have... a... problem." "You say the nicest things," Michelle said as she started to grind her ass into the end of the bench. My half-erect cock shot up to full size quickly. As we sat having breakfast downstairs in the kitchen, Michelle told me what she wanted to do that day. "Shopping!" I'd always known girls seemed to have a thing for shopping. I only went to a store if I was actually looking for a particular item, but the idea didn't seem like a lot of fun to me. Of course, I didn't tell Michelle that. I was her guest, and she'd certainly entertained me enough in the last few days. Anyway, we both agreed that we could use the sunshine and the trip away from the house for a little while. The only two people I was worried about seeing me were my brother or mother, and they were both working during the daytime. I think my brother would totally understand once he got a look at Michelle, but my mom was very Victorian about sex and would throw a fit. To her, sex was something you just had to do and put up with when you were married. It didn't really turn out that badly. Mostly, Michelle's idea of shopping was going out and trying on an endless collection of clothes. We went from store to store, Michelle finding something she liked or thought I would, and trying it on to see what it looked like. I offered to help her in the change room at each place, but she laughed and just said she didn't think the management would allow it. Also, neither of us wanted to get caught fucking inside, and we both knew that if we were alone for any length of time, that's what would happen. Anyway, I still got a kick from her showing herself off in one tight outfit after another. We did manage to go to a few places other than women's clothing stores. We stopped off and fed each other lunch. That was an experience, carefully placing food into Michelle's mouth as her tongue came out to lick and suck in items off my fork and spoon. We got a few stares from the other tables, but we both got a good laugh out of it. Try it sometime. It's really a sexy experience. We also stopped at a couple of music stores where I found something in the sale section that I just had to buy. While Michelle was digging through the record, CD, and tape racks, I managed to pay for it and stuff it in my jacket pocket before she saw me. Or at least I thought I had. When we got back to her place, the first thing she did was ask me what I had bought at the store so sneakily. I was a bit disappointed that I'd been caught, but decided now was as good a time as any to ask her. Together we went into the living room, and I told her to wait right there as I went over to the stereo system to give it a look over. It didn't look too complicated, so I pulled the little bag out of my pocket, quickly tore the wrapping off of the cassette, and slipped it into the machine. Pressing play on the machine, I joined a curious Michelle on the couch. Finally, loud music began to play out of the speakers in the corner of the room. Michelle's face flushed pink, and her hand flew to her mouth as she recognized the song. "Oh god, you didn't...." As Carly Simon belted "Nobody Does It Better," I turned to Michelle and said, "Well, you did say that you might dance for me if I asked?" Not saying anything, Michelle stood up and walked to the machine. Hitting the stop button, she rewound it, popped it out of the machine, and looked at the label. "I don't believe you did that." Picking up the bags we'd got while shopping, for the amount she tried on, she really hadn't bought that much, she called a "Stay right there!" over her shoulder before running upstairs. I didn't know what to think as I sat there. Was she mad at me? Was she going to throw me out? "Simon?" It was Michelle's voice, but she hadn't come back into the room yet. "Turn on the stereo and then go sit back down." Now it was my turn to be the curious one. Complying with her, I hit the play button and hurried back to the sofa to sit. As the same song began to play, I jumped as Michelle flew into the room in a leap, landed on one foot, did a quick spin, and then bounced across the room to the other. For a second, I thought she was naked, but then I made out that she was wearing a skin-tight, peach body stocking. I watched, no, actually, I gaped as she danced and gyrated around the room to the music. It was almost like the opening of a James Bond movie. The clothing hid just enough that it tantalized me, making Michelle even more sexy than she already was. Something I had thought would be impossible. How can you improve on perfection? As the song ended, Michelle turned off the stereo, stumbled over next to me on the couch, and collapsed. She was sweating and panting so hard I thought she was dying. I only seen her like this a few times before, and that was right after a great fuck. Reaching over, I gave her knee a good squeeze and asked, "Was it good for you? It certainly was for me." Michelle laughed hysterically, threw her arms around me, and pulled me hard to her. "God, that was great," she said into my ear between pants. "I haven't danced like that for ages." "You were fantastic!" I told her. "You really looked like you knew what you were doing." Michelle's breathing was slowly coming back down to normal. "I took ballet lessons when I was a kid, but had to give it up when these things sprouted up." She cupped her two breasts in her hands and gave them a good squeeze. "You don't see any ballerinas with a 'D' cup." "I don't know," I said, reaching over and giving them a good squeeze myself. "It would certainly bring in more guys to the ballet." Michelle jumped back up to her feet and headed out of the room again, yelling, "The next show is in five minutes. Turn the music on when I tell you to." And that's how we spent the rest of the afternoon. For each song, Michelle would go upstairs and change into one sexy outfit after another, then dance to each of them. She was very good. I still think that if she ever wanted to really give it a try, she could easily get a part as a dancer in the next movie. She really gave it to me on the last song on the tape, "For Your Eyes Only." As Sheena Easton belted out the first words of the song, Michelle jumped into the room. I thought that I had gotten used to her flashy entrances, but this one made me jump again. She must have gone into her mother's drawers again for the outfit she was wearing this time. A long silk negligee slit up the sides to the top of her hips spun lightly around her as she hopped and danced around the furniture. At about the middle of the song, she gave me a sexy smile, and in a single motion, it came flying off over her head and landed in my lap. Now just dressed in the smallest, tightest bra and panties I had ever seen, she continued to dance. I thought it was the most erotic thing I had witnessed in my short life until, with a flick of an arm, her bra shot over to join the negligee. As I continued to watch her, I picked up the soft undergarment and gently started to rub one of the cups against my cheek. As the last note of the song ended, Michelle kicked out toward me, and the panties she had somehow managed to slip off landed on the couch next to me. By the time the loud click announced the tape player going off, I had Michelle pinned under me on the sofa as I kissed and licked her face and bare breasts. Her hands tore at my pants and shirt until they were on the floor next to the flimsy clothes she had just discarded, then in a single movement, I was inside her. It was the wildest sex we had had yet. The thick cushions of the sofa acted almost like a trampoline as we both pumped up and down, our asses bouncing into the air as our groins slammed over and over together. I'm not sure how many orgasms Michelle had, I really think she had had her first while she was still dancing, before I clutched her hips tightly, pushed myself as deep as I could into her, and exploded. The room spun around me, everything turning red as I finally collapsed on Michelle, the cushions thankfully absorbing most of the shock. "Simon! Simon, are you all right?" Michelle's worried voice pulled me back out of my daze. I don't think I had actually passed out, the moment had been too good for my body to allow that. I think I had just overloaded. I rolled over to free Michelle from under me and told her I was just fine. I was just a little blown away. But, anytime she wanted to try that again was fine by me. We spent the rest of the day just relaxing and recovering. Tuesday, Day 4 ----------------------- The next morning, after our romp in the super-shower, Michelle announced that she had a surprise for me. After yesterday's workout, I wasn't sure I'd survive a surprise, but was willing to at least look. Still wet from the shower, we cuddled together in the huge bed. "Well, what's my surprise?" I asked nervously. Michelle gave a little giggle and reached over to the nightstand on her side of the bed. Picking up a remote control, she turned the TV on. Her parents had a really good entertainment center on the wall across from the bed with a good-sized TV, video recorder, and stereo system. The TV was showing an old Barnaby Jones repeat, in French no less. Then, with the other hand, she picked another remote and pushed a button on it. The VCR, a beta, turned itself on. I'd noticed that they had two VCRs, a VHS one out in the living room and a beta one in here. The war between the two formats was still going on, but VHS looked as if it would soon be declared the winner. The TV picture went to static for a second before a woman driving a car took its place. I watched as the titles began on the screen. 'Deep Throat' it announced. "Shit!" I yelled. "Where'd you get a copy of this?""I'd never seen a porno movie in my life before, but I had heard of this legendary movie. Michelle giggled again. "It was an accident. My parents must have left it in the machine and forgot. My stupid brother was watching some idiotic show, and I wanted to watch gymnastics. It was the Olympic finals. Anyway, my mom said I could watch it in here. I was just fiddling with the controls when I accidentally turned on the machine and... wow, did I get a shock." "I bet," I agreed, my concentration split between Michelle and the TV. "I turned it off right away before my parents found out I discovered their little secret, but the next time they were both out, I found their stash of movies. They've got about a dozen all together." "Shit!" I repeated. I don't know if that was for Michelle or for the woman sitting in the kitchen getting her cunt eaten. "Have you watched them all?" Michelle shook her head. "I chickened out every time. It's not often that I'm home alone when both of my parents aren't home, and I'm certainly not going to let my little brother catch me watching one. I've seen the beginning of a couple, but never got very far in them." For the rest of the morning, Michelle and I sat back against the headboard of the bed together and watched dirty movies. My hand was buried in the folds of her dripping pussy while she squeezed and jerked my cock. It was almost like at the James Bond movie, except we were both completely nude and we were paying more attention to the screen. 'Deep Throat' was enlightening, even if neither of us thought the actors and actresses were very attractive. It was almost all one oral sex scene right after another, something we had never gotten into. I had been curious though, at that James Bond movie I had licked one of my fingers after I'd had it buried in Michelle for a while. It hadn't tasted that bad, but was a bit oily. It was a lubrication of sorts after all. I was dying to get between Michelle's thighs for a better taste and really, really wanted her to suck on me back, but was too nervous to start something like that first. It had only been two weeks really since we had started together, and I didn't want to do anything that might drive Michelle off. The second movie, 'Behind the Green Door,' we both agreed was better but was a bit on the extreme side. The young Marilyn Chambers was really hot in it, and the guys were certainly better looking than Harry Reems. We couldn't believe some of the things they were doing, but it turned us on so much that we had to join in. On her hands and knees, facing the TV so she wouldn't miss anything, I drilled into Michelle from behind. For a little while, I half dreamed it was Marilyn I was fucking, but realized that Michelle was even sexier, and it turned back to the girl in front of me. With all that was going on on the screen in front of us, it didn't take either of us very long to finish. Afterward, we went back to cuddling at the head of the bed and finished watching the movie. After it ended, Michelle set the machine to rewind the tape. We certainly didn't want her parents to come back and notice that somebody had been watching their private collection. We both decided we were starving at the same time. We'd skipped breakfast, or more correctly, completely forgot about it in the excitement of the movies and had burned up a lot of energy already this morning. We chased each other down the stairs to the kitchen and threw some leftover pizza from last night to heat up in the microwave. It was a pretty fast lunch, but we both wanted to get back upstairs to the next movie. It was really nice having a girlfriend just as horny as I was. We'd just slipped the next tape in the machine and settled down to watch it when the phone rang. That in itself was not an unusual situation. Every night around 8:00 o'clock, Michelle got a call from her parents asking how she was and was everything all right. Michelle told me she was tempted to tell them that she was having a great time getting her 'brains fucked out' --- a direct quote, but just told them everything was fine and she was getting a lot of studying accomplished. Which was true enough. If Michelle didn't get an A+ in sex Ed. this year, nobody would. I would usually just sit on the floor trying not to make a noise the whole time. This time though, when the phone rang, it wasn't even 1:00 yet. We both scrambled to turn the TV and VCR off. The screams of two...no, better make that three people screwing themselves silly wasn't something we wanted as the background noise during a phone conversation. I took my usual place on the floor and shut up while Michelle went to pick up the upstairs phone.""Michelle asked her gently, her tone differing from her words. "It really wasn't his fault. I shouldn't have..." Kathy weakly argued back. "Come on, Kathy," Michelle demanded harshly. "You don't have to take that kind of crap." "Yeah," I added in. "Steve's an asshole. You can do much better than that." Slowly, Kathy started agreeing with us and reluctantly agreed that she was going to break up with Steve. Before Kathy could back out, Michelle ran for the phone, gave it to Kathy, and told her to phone Steve right now and tell him she was through with him. With Michelle and I on either side of her for support, she phoned him and told him, with some quiet coaching from Michelle, that she was through with him and never wanted to see him again. We could hear Steve start with some sweet talk, then turn to pleading before his voice turned harsh and he began to yell at her. I was really amazed when Kathy's face suddenly turned from the anxiety and confusion she had worn since she got here to anger. "GET OVER IT, YOU ASSHOLE!" she screamed down the phone before she slammed it hard back on the receiver. For almost five seconds, she looked strong and confident before she started to sob again into Michelle's shoulder. When she finally managed to get a hold of herself, Michelle let her go. For a minute, there was total silence before Michelle stood up, grabbed my hand, and said, "I'll go get us something to drink." I wasn't sure what was going on, but since she had a death grip on my hand, I went along with her. In the kitchen, Michelle got some glasses from a cupboard while I got a 2-liter bottle of coke out of the fridge. While I started to fill glasses, Michelle just stared at me, an unusual look in her eyes. "I want you to make love to Kathy," she finally blurted out. My hands opened up by themselves, dropping the open bottle onto the counter. We both reached for it, knocking it onto the floor and spilling even more of it. While Michelle wiped it up, I stood frozen and confused. The girl I was in love with, there was no doubt about that to me now, wanted me to have sex with her best friend. At least that's what I think she had said. Just to make sure, I asked, "What did you say?" Michelle looked up at me from the floor, her face flushed that pink I knew was from embarrassment. Reaching down, I gave her hand up, then watched as she washed out the cloth she had been using and rinsed off her hands in the kitchen sink. "I said... I said I want you to make love with Kathy." "That's what I thought you'd said," I sputtered in confusion. "You want me to have sex with Kathy." She took my shaking hands in hers before she continued, "Not just have sex with Kathy. I want you to make love with her." "But..., I... you..... but I thought we..." Michelle pulled me to her and planted her lips to mine. I just stood there lifelessly for a few seconds, but eventually joined in. "Kathy needs that right now," Michelle told me as she pulled her face slightly from mine. "She's in pretty fragile shape right now,... and from what she told me, Steve didn't treat her too well. He just fucked her. I want her to know there's more to sex than being used like that." "I..., I..." I started to answer, but Michelle just picked up two glasses and headed back to the living room, leaving me little choice but to pick up my own and follow her. Kathy was standing up, a weak smile on her lips when we got back. "I'm sorry to be bothering you guys with all this. I'd better go." "Sit," Michelle said, putting the two glasses on the coffee table. "You're not interrupting us. Simon and I needed to take a break anyway. Right, Simon?" Sipping slowly from my glass, I managed a, "Right." Kathy blushed pink as she thought about that, but picked up the drink and sat down, wincing as she hit the couch too hard. "God, Kath, have you been to a doctor?" Michelle demanded, taking the glass from Kathy's trembling hand. "No. I'm fine. Really!" Kathy told her back. "Come on. Take that shirt off," Michelle told her, reaching for the bottom button of Kathy's blouse. "I want to see what that bastard did to you." "Michelle!" Kathy screamed as she clutched desperately at Michelle's hands, stopping her from going any further. "I can't..., not with..." "I can leave," I said hopefully. "Don't be silly," Michelle said, talking to us both. "It's not like Simon hasn't seen a girl without a shirt before. In fact, neither of us have been wearing anything at all for the last three days." Kathy's face really turned red this time. "I know. Would it help if Simon and I took ours off too?" Michelle asked. Before Kathy could get a word in, Michelle was already undoing hers. "C'mon, Simon," Michelle ordered me as she tossed her shirt over the back of the couch. "Take your shirt off." My brain just went on automatic as I felt my arms pull my shirt off over my head and toss it on top of Michelle's. While Kathy gawked in shock at us, Michelle quickly reached over and undid the buttons on her blouse. The poor girl put up no struggle at all as Michelle gently pulled her arms out of the sleeves and placed it with the others. "God!" I swore as I got a look at Kathy. She was a very pretty girl, but that wasn't what I was staring at. From elbow to shoulder on both arms was patches of yellow, blue, and black, and under her bra on her ribcage was a large red mark that was just beginning to darken. "I'm going to kill the bastard." Kathy crossed her arms over her bra defensively before shaking her head. "No. I think it's just the one on my ribs. The rest..., well, Steve could get a bit rough when we..." Michelle looked over at me sadly, then shook her head at Kathy. Taking a deep breath, I kneeled in front of her. "We'd better take a look at your ribs anyway. Something might be broken." Ever so gently, I touched the new red spot and saw Kathy grimace in pain. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing, but could feel nothing wrong with what I touched. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" Kathy shook her head as she stared wide-eyed at me. "I think I hit the doorknob on the door. I can move okay, it just hurts a bit when I move certain ways." "You really should go see a doctor," I told her and felt her flinch under my hand. "No, no," Kathy said in a panic. "He'd want to know what happened and tell my parents, and then they'd want to know what happened...." Grabbing her gently by the shoulders, I said, "Okay. Okay, but if it gets any worse, you've got to promise me you'll go to a doctor." Kathy calmed down slowly, then nodded her head as she stared at me. "Okay, yes. But it doesn't hurt much right now." Unsure what else to do, I went back to sit next to Michelle, with Kathy on the opposite side. Michelle leaned over to me, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and whispered, "You're doing fine," in my ear. Then we all sat there quietly and sipped at our cokes. It was strange sitting next to two girls wearing only bras on their tops. Taking quick glances between the two, I realized the whole time I'd been looking at Kathy's bruises, I hadn't once looked at her bra or breasts. They weren't very big. Compared to Michelle's mountainous breasts, they were barely more than a handful. "You know this isn't really fair on Simon," Michelle said. I wasn't sure if she'd seen me staring at Kathy's chest, and forced myself to stare down at my drink. "Here he is with nothing on at all up top, and here we are with these covered up." With that, she slipped her bra off and added it to the growing pile of clothes. I almost dropped my glass as my hands shook. I guess she had seen me. Kathy looked nervously back and forth between Michelle and me, she gave a little shrug, and slipped her own bra off and lay it carefully next to Michelle's. Okay. This time I couldn't stop myself from staring. Champagne glass tits, I think they would have been called. Little cones of flesh with two cherries on top. In fact, a double scoop of vanilla ice-cream is what they reminded me of. I had to stop myself from licking my lips. Michelle reached out and gave my knee another squeeze of encouragement. For a second, I didn't know what to do. Then a light bulb lit in my head. "Michelle?" I asked. "Did you ever thank Kathy for me?" Michelle was sipping again at her cold glass of coke as she looked at me with uncertainty. "You know," I had to remind her. "What we talked about at the movie." Michelle's eyes opened wide as she let out a loud cough as the coke went down the wrong hole in her throat. I took the glass from her hand so she wouldn't spill it on the carpet as she coughed to clear her windpipe. I figured that a bit of turnabout was fair play, and allowed myself to enjoy her discomfort a bit. "I'll take that as a no then." Looking over Michelle's mountains at Kathy, who stared back at me nervously, I said, "Thank you very much. You do very good work." "For what?" Kathy asked back. "Well, Michelle told me that you were the one who taught her how to French kiss." Kathy glared angrily at Michelle, who just started to giggle back at her outraged expression. "Like I said, you do very good work." Kathy quickly stood up, still glaring at Michelle. I thought she was going to leave or yell at her, but instead, she walked by her and stood in front of me. The next thing happened so fast it really took me by surprise. Kathy jumped me. One second she was just looking at Michelle, and the next she was in my lap, her face glued to mine. As I usually do in that kind of situation, I froze, but Kathy's wiggling ass in my groin and her passionate attack on my mouth quickly thawed me out. I could still hear Michelle giggling as I opened my mouth and felt Kathy's tongue push past my lips in search of mine. Then just as suddenly, she pulled away, jumped off me, and went back to sit next to Kathy. "Is that what you mean?" she asked sweetly. "Yes...." I answered as I started to breathe again. "Yes... very good."Michelle's giggles finally broke into a full fit of laughter as she shook, her magnificent breasts bobbing and shaking with each outburst. Looking over at Kathy, I saw her start to break up and join in. It was pretty contagious, and after a moment, I had to join them. After we calmed down, Michelle jumped me herself, her tongue and mine wrestling back and forth between us. "So who's better?" she asked as she pulled back. I was becoming quite good at impersonating a statue of late. Gulping, I looked at Michelle and then at Kathy, who smiled back at me. "Well... I... You're really both great." "Well?!" Michelle asked again with a glare. "I'd really need more practice before I could tell you that," I finally answered, hoping to save face. "Great idea!" Michelle agreed. "Kathy! Your turn again." "Michelle... I..." Kathy said uncertainly. "Go ahead," Michelle coaxed her. "And remember, this is for the world championship." Kathy gave a nervous giggle as she came over to me again. Instead of plopping herself in my lap and turning her head to mine, this time she straddled me, my legs between her thighs. "Well, here goes," she whispered to me as she wrapped her arms around me and lowered her face to me. If I thought she was good last time, this time she was an animal. Sucking my lips into her mouth, she nibbled at them before her tongue forced my mouth wide and started her attack. For a second, it felt as if she was going to swallow my face whole,... it was that good. Then the rest of her joined in. One hand started to gently rub my back, slipping down to occasionally give my ass a pat or squeeze, while the other slowly worked its way up the side of my chest until she reached my head. Then, lightly, she grabbed my ear and started making little circles on my earlobe. I'd seen girls and guys both nibble on ears in movies and even blow into them a bit, but had never known what effect that could really have on a person. As we busily exchanged saliva, I felt her hard nipples poke me in the chest and reached my hands up to cup her little breasts in my hands. As I pinched her nipples, she started to purr back to me in response. So that's where Michelle got that from. Kathy's legs squeezed together and then relaxed as she humped my groin with hers. "Ah, guys," we heard Michelle whisper to us. "You're going to make a mess of two perfectly good pairs of jeans if you keep doing that." Kathy jumped and pulled away from me. Throwing herself off me, she stepped back and looked embarrassingly at us both. "Oh, Michelle, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'd better go." "Don't be silly," Michelle told her. "I just meant that you'd both probably be much more comfortable if you removed your pants." "Michelle, I..." Kathy sputtered in confusion. It was really that sort of afternoon for her. "Simon, why don't you take Kathy upstairs and show her where she can hang her pants," Michelle told me. "I've got a few things to do down here. I'll join you guys in, say, about an hour." Strangely enough, neither Kathy nor I said anything as we both went up the stairs. Kathy started toward Michelle's room, but I grabbed her hand and led her to her parents' room instead. Standing at the foot of the huge bed, we just stared shyly back at each other. It was a strange feeling, shy, after the way we had been at each other in the living room, but alone, up here, it seemed natural. "What do we do now?" Kathy asked in a quiet whisper. "Well..., if Michelle comes up here and we still have our jeans on, she'll be really mad." Kathy just looked at me uncertainly, then reached for the button on her jeans. My eyes followed her closely as she pushed them down to her feet, hopped out of them, then kicked them out of the way. Her pink panties were so tiny they almost looked like the bottom part of a string bikini. The thin line of cloth barely concealed her pussy lips, and I bet if she turned around, I wouldn't have seen anything but the crack of her ass. "Well?" she asked. At first, I thought she wanted a comment on how she looked - she looked yummy - but then realized that she was talking about my own still panted condition. It was a relief to undo the button and fly on my pants; I'd had a hard lump in my trousers since Kathy had first plopped herself in my lap downstairs. I repeated her performance by pushing them to my feet and kicking them to the side of the room. If there was any doubt in my mind that Kathy hadn't known my condition, there was absolutely none now. My cock strained against the cotton of my underwear as it tried and forced its way through. I could feel Kathy's eyes on my groin and felt myself flush in response. I looked up at Kathy and found that she had shut her eyes, her head tilted up slightly. Then, in a single motion, she hooked her thumbs in the side of her panties and crouched down...taking them with her. As she stood straight again, her panties sitting on her socks, she opened her eyes and stared right at me. Standing there totally,...well, except for the socks, naked, she looked like something out of a fairytale. Petite, I doubt she was even five feet tall, her long blond braid had hooked over her shoulder as it tended to do and hung down past her right breast. Her small, heart-shaped face looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes. 'No, not a fairytale,' I decided. Kathy looked just like a Wendy Pini wet dream come to life. Make her eyes longer and taper her ears to a point, and she would make one hell of a sexy elf. Then my eyes spotted the large purpling mark under her breast and the old colored marks all over her shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a combination of anger and sadness. I guess my expression must have echoed my reaction because she suddenly dropped her eyes and looked disappointed. "How could anybody hurt anybody as pretty as you are?" I hurriedly said as I took a few steps toward her. "That Steve has a lot to answer for." Looking up and smiling again, she shyly asked, "You really think I'm pretty?" I wanted to tell her she was adorable, but that isn't the kind of thing you say to a girl you're soon going to make love to. I was almost certain of that now. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen," I finally told her. It really was the truth. Both Michelle and Kathy were pretty, but Michelle was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. With Michelle, I think I could be happy if I just sat down and got to stare at her for the rest of my life. But Kathy was prettier. She smiled a bit more confidently at me as she finished closing the space between us. I had to look down at her head - I'm sure I could have comfortably rested my chin on top of it - as she hugged me. I felt her hands then come down and grab the sides of my own pair of underwear and slowly work them off of me. "That's better, isn't it?" she asked me as she freed my prick from its confines, its head now resting comfortably on Kathy's warm stomach. Reaching down, she wrapped a little fist around it and gave it a stroke. "Hmmmm, that's nice." Then she really surprised me as she dropped to her knees and began to place wet kisses all over it. I stared amazed as her lips worked their way down one side to my balls, kissed them just as thoroughly, and up the other side until she reached my crown. I let out a loud groan as her tongue snaked out of her mouth and began to lick me like an ice-cream cone. "Hmmmm," she purred again before smiling wetly up at me and licking her lips. "I see Michelle and you were busy not long ago." I had forgotten Michelle and my earlier fucking, and I imagined my dick would probably not be very clean. I was going to ask her if she wanted me to wash it when she just opened her mouth and sucked me inside. I groaned again as she pulled me deeper, and I felt my cock head touch flesh at the back of her throat. Her magical tongue seemed to wrap itself around me as she moved her head slowly up and down. Knowing that in my current state I wouldn't last much longer, I reluctantly pulled her from me and lifted her to her feet. "You don't want me to suck it anymore?" she asked, surprised. "God, yes," I answered quickly. "But later. I want to last a bit longer." Leaning forward, I crushed her mouth to mine, then wrapped my hands around her ass and lifted her so I wouldn't have to bend forward. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she helped support herself as our bodies pushed together. Coming up for a breath, she moved her head to nibble at my earlobe, then whispered, "Would you do me then?" I wasn't absolutely sure what she meant, so I asked, "You want me to eat your pussy?" "Yes!" she replied, tightening her grip on me. "Would you?" Letting her go, I sat her on the foot of the bed and knelt down in front of her. As I placed a hand on the inside of her thighs, her legs relaxed and spread wide for me. "Just like Michelle's," I said as my fingers ran through the soft blond curls of the heart right above the wet slit in front of me. "Michelle really did it then?" Kathy asked with a giggle. "Oh, yeah," I answered back, not looking at anything but that pink gash in front of me. "You seem to give Michelle a lot of ideas." With that, I reached out with my tongue and just touched the wet folds of flesh. It tasted a bit like Michelle's but was slightly different. 'Not bad,' I thought as I bent down and tried to push my tongue deep inside. "Hmmmm, that's nice," Kathy told me. "But slow down. There's no need to rush." I pulled my tongue out of her and licked around the edges. "Uh, Kathy..., well...is this better?" Kathy looked down at me before she started to giggle again. "You've never done this before, have you?" I gave an embarrassed head shake that she really seemed to enjoy...I had my tongue deep in her at the time. "Ooooo, Michelle doesn't know what she's missing. This is the only way Steve ever got me off." "Hmmmm?" I hummed inquiringly, my mouth still too full to talk. Pinching her clit lightly with my lips, I began to lick it with my tongue. "Eeeeee,."Kathy let out a little squeal of delight. "Yes, keep doing that. You're doing great." "I liked to fuck Steve, and we both liked it when I took him in my mouth, but I never got off unless he was eating me." 'Well, we're going to have to change that,' I thought to myself as I dug in further and felt Kathy respond back. Little drops of liquid leaked out and down her thighs, which I quickly scooped up with my tongue before plunging it in and around again. Kathy began to jerk occasionally as I licked a particularly sensitive spot. Deciding I was going to try to send her over the edge, I pushed my face tightly into her, my nose burying itself into her soft core, and started making an airplane noise with my lips. Kathy let out a loud scream as the vibration seemed to trigger something primal in her. Grabbing my head, she pushed it harder into her groin as it started to grind back against my mouth. My face started to get wet as I slurped and licked at the fluid coming out of her. Jabbing my tongue out, I felt her vagina tightly grip it and pull it deeper inside. 'I think that was it,' I decided. I just hoped it wouldn't last too long. I was having some trouble breathing, and my tongue felt like it was going to be pulled out by the roots. Slowly, Kathy dropped, her grip on my head releasing, and the spasms of her cunt becoming weak trembles. As I pulled my face from her and licked my lips, she let out a sigh of utter contentment. "You want to fuck me now?" "Uh-uh," I said, surprising her. I leaned forward and gave a slow, gentle kiss, then reached under to scoop her in my arms and carry her around the giant bed to its side. "I'm going to make love to you." I laid Kathy in the bed and then hopped over her. "What's the difference?" she asked me. I decided to show her the difference. I showered her face and neck with slow, wet kisses as I made my way to those small, firm breasts of hers. Nibbling lightly on one nipple and then the other, I started to get her worked up. "Stop teasing," Kathy pleaded. "I'm not teasing. This is the way it goes," I told her before I began to loosely pull on the hard tips of her nipples with my teeth. That large bruise below her breasts drew my attention, and I gave it a soft kiss also before saying, "If this starts to hurt at all, let me know. There should be absolutely no pain in this." "No pain...right," she agreed in a soft whisper as she started to go along with me. Reaching for my cock, I rubbed the head over her pussy, paying special attention to her engorged clit, then began to ever so slowly push it inside. I wanted it to get nice and slippery before I got completely inside her, and by the way her vagina gushed out its juices, that wouldn't be a problem. With me on top in the missionary position, I held myself up like I was doing push-ups. Her sweetly smiling face looked up at me as I finally reached bottom in that vise-like chamber between her legs. Holding myself there, I lowered my face to hers and began to nibble her lips and then her tongue as it came out to greet me. Imperceptibly slowly, I began to pull my hips back until the head of my cock was the only thing nestled inside her, then just as slowly I pushed back inside until our groins pressed completely together. For fifteen minutes, I repeated that, over and over, only speeding up slightly when Kathy begged me to go faster and harder. When her orgasm came, it built up just as slowly. Starting with a single tremble, her vagina grabbed me tighter with each thrust, clasping onto my cock and trying to pull me even deeper. Kathy's moans started out as just loud purrs, then got louder and louder until with a scream that I'm sure even Michelle could hear through the soundproofing of the bedroom, her body exploded below me. I tried to hold on longer myself, but having this sexy little body below me, thrashing and panting as the orgasm hit, was too much for me. Pushing myself as deep as I could inside her, I exploded, shooting out the stored cum that had been building up inside my balls since Michelle had asked me to do this. "I never...," Kathy said between pants as her body slipped into that relaxed afterglow that followed a real good orgasm. "That was so good." Gently, I pulled out my still rock-hard cock from inside her. "No, please..." she pleaded. "Don't stop." "I wasn't even considering it," I told her as I moved to lie next to her and rolled her onto her side so she faced away from me. Her ass just above my cock, I reached down and slipped it back into her pussy from behind. Cupping her little breasts in my hands, I kneaded them and felt her nipples grind softly in my palms. Again, I began to move slowly back and forth into her. I don't know how long we continued making love, or how many orgasms Kathy went through. After each successfully more powerful orgasm, I changed our position until finally I was flat on my back, and she was kneeling on top of me, my cock buried deep inside her. I held on to her hips to keep her from rushing the pace as she bounced up and down. For the last few minutes, I had felt her body rock with mini-orgasms as I felt the biggest yet start to build up. I had only cum that once inside her so far, but could feel the sensation that I was going to go off again, and very soon. Then Kathy let out another loud, long scream as her body started to shake like she was having a seizure. From the expression on her face, it was one hell of a pleasant seizure. Letting myself go, I thrust my hips upwards as she shakily plunged down on me. Just as her orgasm reached its peak, I felt my balls start to squeeze, and my cock spasm. Then, again and again, in what felt like an endless chain of orgasms, I filled her up with my semen. Then too drained for anything more, she let herself flop forward onto my chest and just lay there gasping. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her as we both basked in the moment. Raising her chin on my chest so she could look into my face, she smiled a smile that only a completely content and blissfully happy woman could give. "Did Michelle teach you how to do that?" I bent forward and kissed her on the forehead, the only place on her face I could reach in the position we were in. "We sort of stumbled onto it," I admitted. "We were both so drained from fucking we didn't have the strength for any more, but neither of us wanted to stop. The first time was amazing, then we worked out how to keep doing it. It gets pretty hard sometimes, though. At times, I just want to plunge in and go like a jackhammer, but have to hold off." "A jackhammer sounds like fun," Kathy said weakly to me. My shrunken cock gave a twitch in her gooey cunt at that. "But later. I don't think I've got the strength for that right now." "Me either." "But I could do this," She said as she pulled me completely out, then slid down my body until her face hovered over my cock. Sticking her tongue out, she started to lick the combined mess we had made off of it. "Hmmm, nice and sticky." After that, it didn't take me long before I started to respond and grow again. Kathy's face was bobbing up and down as she swallowed my cock when I looked up and found Michelle standing in the open doorway.Then, as if she had given up, she relaxed and joined Kathy in the kiss. Releasing Michelle and grinning maniacally, Kathy asked, "So how do you like the taste of cum?" Michelle blushed, but stuck her tongue out to lick a small white droplet that had leaked out of the side of her mouth. "How do you know if I've tasted cum?" "Well, since Simon had never eaten pussy before, I figured you hadn't done him either." Michelle turned to me, her eyebrows high. "You ate Kathy's pussy?" I smiled weakly at her before nodding, "It was pretty tasty." Michelle had to pause a minute to take that in, so I winked at Kathy and added, "You know, Kathy. This isn't really fair." "Fair?" "Yeah, fair." I told her. "Here we are both buck naked on this bed and there is Michelle still wearing a pair of pants." "Yeah, Michelle!" Kathy said indignantly. "You practically tore my blouse and bra off downstairs, I think it's only fair if you get just as naked as us." Michelle looked back and forth between us, then stood up and slipped off both her sweatpants and panties in one motion. "Is that better?" "You did shave it," Kathy said as she stared at the little red heart-shaped patch of hair on Michelle's groin. "Here, let me take a look?" Michelle, having given up any control of the situation, got on the bed next to me so that Kathy could get a better look at her. "Oh, look, Simon," Kathy said as she carefully examined it. "Michelle's got all wet." Joining in the game, I crawled down the bed to get a better look myself. Indeed, Michelle was definitely showing signs of dampness. Reaching out a finger, I rubbed it up and down her slit and felt even more moisture slip out. Winking at me, Kathy said, "Don't you think you'd better clean that mess up." I looked at Kathy's mischievous grin and then at Michelle's shocked expression as I dropped my face to her pussy and began to lick up the moist leakage. Pulling my face up, I looked at Kathy and declared, "It's no good. Every time I lick one lot up, more just leaks out to replace it." "Well, don't give up," Kathy ordered me on. "I'm sure if you do it long enough, she'll dry up." So I dug back into Michelle with a vengeance, my tongue licking up and down, then pushing inside as I searched for more of the moisture. Sure enough, Michelle didn't disappoint me. All the while, Kathy sat near me, giving me helpful instruction and absent-mindedly playing with Michelle's nipples. As I felt Michelle reaching orgasm, I stopped and looked up. Michelle looked down at me, pleading with me to continue, but I just looked at Kathy and told her to watch closely. Moving upward, above the heart-shaped patch, I found Michelle's belly-button. Remembering that I had said earlier that she was an "outy," and that I had also found that that little knob sticking out was pretty sensitive, I reached out with my lips, kissing and sucking on it just as I had moments earlier on her clit. Sure enough, that set Michelle off. As I continued on her button, I reached a hand and pushed two fingers inside her while my thumb found her clit. She gushed as she came, her clenching vagina squirting out its lubrication all over my hand and down the crack of her ass onto the bed. "God! God! God!" Michelle kept screaming as her body tightened and jerked. "Wow!" Kathy added as she stared in awe. "I've never seen another girl orgasm before. Did I look like that?" Letting go of Michelle's belly-button, I began to lick up the mess Michelle had just made. She trembled as I touched her ultra-sensitive clit but didn't tell me to stop. "Pretty much," I informed Kathy after I got most of Michelle clean, but I knew that as long as I kept licking her, she'd never quite be totally clean. "Hmmm," Michelle purred as I crept up her body to lie next to her. "That was..." "Yeah, it was, wasn't it," I said with a grin. "I was thinking of doing that earlier this morning to you, when we were watching the movies, but I didn't have the nerve. I wasn't sure what you thought about oral sex." "Good," Kathy said from Michelle's other side. "I'm glad I could teach you two something too." "Too?" Michelle asked. "What did you learn?" "Well, other than making love, I learned that I should listen to you more often when it comes to guys. You have great taste." With that, she leaned over Michelle and pulled my face to hers. Just below us, Michelle watched us as we kissed each other. Then we pulled her into a three-way kiss with us. We also learned that it's difficult, but not impossible, for three people to French each other at the same time. Coming up for breath, Michelle laughed when she got a good look at us. "We're a mess." That was true enough. My face was covered with the dried and drying remains from both Michelle and Kathy's pussy, while they both had flakes of dried jism on theirs. Not to mention the swampy mixture that covered our groins and upper legs. "We could introduce Kathy to the super shower," I said with a jolt of inspiration. "Super shower?" Kathy asked. "Oh, you're going to love this," I said. An hour later, we were all very, very clean and starting to get a bit wrinkled. Kathy had a blast with the shower and had found a new use for the side jets of water that Michelle hadn't discovered. If she stood right in front of them, spread her legs and bent over to touch the floor, she found that the second jet up was right in line with her cunt. Michelle and I took turns pushing the button, turning it on and off as we watched Kathy reach orgasm from the spurting jets of warm water. Lying on the clean bed, we'd decided to change the sheets, we hugged each other, our wet bodies slipping deliciously over each other. "Can you stay over tonight?" Michelle asked Kathy. "It shouldn't be a problem," Kathy liked the idea immediately. "It's been a while since I came over for a sleepover, and my mom knows you're here all by yourself." "At least that's what she thinks," Michelle said with a laugh as she reached down for my shrunken penis only to find Kathy's hand already there. We all sat up while Kathy phoned her mother for permission to stay over. "Hi, mom... Yeah, I'm fine... No, no... If he phones again, tell him not to anymore... Yeah, I broke up with him... Oh, we just had a fight and I decided to dump him... Yeah, I'm sure I'm fine... I'm over at Michelle's and I was wondering if it's all right if I stay here tonight... Uh-huh... Oh, I'm sure I can find something to eat for supper." With that remark, she gave my cock a squeeze and a jerk. 'Anytime,' I mouthed to her, making her stifle a giggle. "Okay... Thanks... See ya tomorrow... Bye." Hanging up the phone, she announced that she was all ours for the evening. "Did I hear right that Steve was calling you at home?" I asked her. "Just let me know if he bothers you. I don't care if he can pound me into mush. If he even looks at you the wrong way again, I'll kill him." Kathy's face looked like she was about to begin crying again, but she didn't look sad or depressed like she had last time. Reaching out for me, she wrapped her arms around me and said, "Thanks for the offer, but I can take care of him." "Well, in that case, why don't we go get supper ready," Michelle added. Kathy looked down at my growing cock and licked her lips. Michelle laughed. "I think something more substantial would be in order. No insult to Simon, but I think we're going to need all the energy we can get for later." "I could go for that," I added in agreement. We found out that Michelle had been busy while I was upstairs with Kathy. She'd thrown a load of dirty sheets in the washing machine, then the dryer, filled the dishwasher with dirty dishes, and had begun to prepare a huge meal for all of us. The main dishes only had to be put in the oven to bake. It was true that for the last few days, we'd basically lived on junk food and stuff that could be quickly heated in the microwave. With a guest over, she decided to go all out and make us a real meal for a change. Being a good house guest, I helped fold the still-warm sheets. I knew that the way we were going, we'd need more sheets pretty soon. Then I emptied the dishwasher while the girls got the dining room table ready. Michelle acted like a good hostess. I think she was trying to copy her mother, and I think she would have been very proud of her if she'd been watching. The only thing unusual was the three naked teenagers politely talking and eating. Before we began, I saw Michelle lay out a thick cloth napkin in her lap, and I followed her example. I certainly didn't want to accidentally spill anything hot down there and ruin what I hoped to be a really good evening. After the meal, we all went into the living room and sat together on the couch to let everything digest. I could tell by the manic look in Kathy's eyes that she was in a bit of a rush for the night's entertainment to begin, but I thought we should just relax for a while. I've heard that you're supposed to wait for an hour after eating before going swimming. I wasn't sure if the same rule applied to sex, but it was better playing it safe. "How 'bout we finish that movie we were watching before Kathy called?" I asked Michelle. "Why not?" Michelle agreed. "Maybe it'll give us some good ideas for later." Kathy looked a bit disappointed but didn't say anything. I didn't think she'd stay disappointed for long, though. She was a bit surprised when we headed upstairs to watch it, but we explained that it was on a beta tape and the machine in the living room was VHS. After we got comfortable on the bed, Michelle reached for the two remotes, turned the TV on and then the VCR. The tape was still right where we had left it, and I watched Kathy as the picture came on the screen, accompanied by the loud groans of three people having more than a good time. "What the fuck?" Kathy said, her eyes glued to the picture. "Exactly," I agreed. "Where'd you get these?" "It's from my parents' private collection.""I found them a few months ago but didn't have a chance of watching them," Michelle said, smiling as her friend began to get turned on by the images before her. "Few months ago!" Kathy spared Michelle a quick angry glance before turning back. "And you didn't tell me about it!" "I knew you'd want to see them," Michelle answered back. "But I didn't want my parents to catch me watching them." "Wow, I want to try that!" Kathy said enthusiastically, pointing to the screen and hopping up and down on the bed. Only half watching the TV, the other half on the excited girls, I realized that it was going to be a long, long night. After the tape ended, Michelle hit rewind and turned the TV off. As one, both girls turned to look over at me. For a moment, I thought I was about to be raped, but instead, they just crawled toward me and asked what we should do first. That they were going to let me be the one deciding was a bit of a comfort. "Well, Kathy did say that she wanted to try something," I replied. "Yay!" Kathy screamed like a kid opening Christmas presents. "You lie down." Stretching out in the center of the bed, I watched as they had a little discussion to themselves. "Okay," Kathy finally told Michelle. "You can go first." Hopping over to me, Michelle leaned close and gave me a wet kiss before climbing on top of me. "Let me get that," Kathy said helpfully as she held my cock for Michelle as she slowly lowered herself onto it. Michelle began to slowly rock back and forth on me, my dick grinding around inside her as she moved. "My turn now," Kathy declared as she crawled up to my head. As Michelle had done first, Kathy leaned over and planted a long wet kiss on my mouth. Then, with unsurprising agility, she flipped one knee over my head and lowered herself down on my waiting mouth. As my tongue shot up and in and my lips pulled and nibbled on the ones between her legs, Kathy purred her delight. The rocking of Michelle on the bottom gave more than enough movement of the mattress to keep my face shaking into Kathy's little dripping cunt. From my vantage point, I couldn't see much except the curve of Kathy's ass and her back above me. Occasionally, I saw the long braid of blond hair go flying as she threw her head back and let out a howl. Michelle's tight vagina gripped and pulsed away on my hard member at the same time as Kathy's juices poured over my chin and into my working mouth. It was all like some wet dream come true. Deciding to get further into the action, I reached my hands around to grip some hard-nippled breasts that I knew had to be there, but instead found Kathy's face and mouth glued tightly on Michelle's right nippled as she sucked madly at it. That left one still free, so with my left hand, I hooked onto Michelle's other breast and began kneading it and rubbing my palm over the hard nipple. Michelle let out a groan of pleasure from both our ministrations. Not wanting to leave Kathy out, I grabbed onto one of her breasts with the other hand and repeated the processes there. Where Michelle filled my hand to overflowing, Kathy's soft little breast with the diamond-hard nipple in the center fit right into my hand. "I'm cumming!" Kathy let out a scream that echoed in the sound-proofed room over and over as she ground her ass into my face. I thought I was going to either suffocate or drown as her ass and groin pushed down, and a wash of liquid splashed onto my face. "Cumming! Cumming! Cumming!" Kathy chanted loudly until it was over, and she slumped over to lean on Michelle. From Michelle's own movements, I could tell she was almost there, and I had been suppressing my own orgasm so I wouldn't go off before her. "Switch positions," Kathy said raggedly as she pulled off of my face, and I felt a cool breeze of life-giving air. Michelle was a bit reluctant to get off my cock. Both of us could tell she was almost there, but she finally got off with a little coaxing from me. I did want to taste her, and I knew that if she went off while still on my cock, I wouldn't be able to help but shoot off into her. Eating her cunt full of my own cream wasn't something I was quite ready for yet. Kathy quickly hopped on my wet penis and began to happily bob up and down on it. Michelle first looked down at me, gave me a kiss, then tried to do what Kathy had done. It wasn't too successful. Like I've said, Kathy is a little thing - willowy thin but sexy. Michelle, on the other hand, had a couple of inches on me. She wasn't fat; the only fat I could really find on her was those two gorgeous lumps in her front and a bit on her hips and ass that gave them a nice roundness. Still, I had a problem when she first sat down on me. Those lovely ass cheeks are a beautiful sight to see, but can be a bit scary when they're covering your face. Eventually, I had to reach under her to support her so that she didn't kill me too fast. All the while, I was trying to breathe and get comfortable under her, my tongue and mouth were sucking and licking at the dripping mass between her legs. Just as I finally thought I had gotten the position right, Michelle exploded. I had forgotten how primed she'd been. She was only moments away from going off when she pulled off my cock, so just a few moments of my tongue was enough to trigger a massive orgasm. Michelle let out a scream of her own that rivaled Kathy's earlier one as she began to convulse. I slurped hurriedly at the wetness to keep it from going up my nose and stop me from breathing completely. Then the worst happened. Michelle passed out, her knees giving out and her entire weight collapsing on my face. As the room blurred and darkened around me, I decided that if this was how I was going to die, then so be it. There were certainly worse ways than being suffocated by the cunt and ass of a beautiful girl while another hopped up and down on my spewing cock. And it was spewing like crazy. The panic and fear, along with the intense pleasure of Kathy's tight little cunt gripping me, was too much, and I shot load after sticky, wet, loud, deep inside her. My last thought was how bad I knew the girls would feel at finding my dead body underneath them. Then Michelle toppled off of me with a loud sucking sound as the vacuum pump between her legs pulled off my face. I gasped and gasped at the cool air as it pumped in and out of my lungs. As Michelle's leg finally cleared my chest, Kathy dropped down on me and rubbed her face into my face and neck. "That was good, Simon." I couldn't help but laugh and agree with her. It certainly was the most memorable sex I'd ever had. The three of us just lay there, cuddled together for about fifteen minutes, enjoying the warmth and contentment of the sex afterglow. I was enjoying the whole experience that day but was a bit confused and worried. My assumptions about Michelle and my relationship were having to go through a bit of a rewrite. Before Kathy had come over, I had decided that I was in love with Michelle and was beginning to even have thoughts about what our children would look like after we got married, but now I wasn't sure what was going on between us. I had always thought of us as friends, and after the last week, we were definitely lovers. But was that it? Kathy jumped up off the bed like a spring. I don't know where that girl gets her energy from. I was still a bit worn out from our last fuck and beginning to feel a similar soreness in my penis that I had after that first night-long fuckfest with Michelle. "Wow. You've got it," Kathy said as she excitedly dug through the box of porn videos and pulled out one of the tapes. Removing the rewound one from the VCR, she shoved the other one inside and pushed the tape down. "I've always wanted to see this." Snuggling back up to us, she got Michelle to pass over the remotes, and she started it running. The familiar face of Linda Lovelace driving down some street popped up on the TV. So Kathy was another one curious about the legend. I just hope she wouldn't be as disappointed as I was in the movie. Neither Michelle nor I had the heart to tell her we'd watched it just that morning. About a quarter of the way into the movie, Kathy turned to me, her mouth wide open, and asked me if I'd look down her throat for anything unusual. I looked but couldn't find anything that didn't look like it should be there. "But I'm almost sure I've got a clit in my throat," Kathy said only half seriously. "I sure get a kick when a guy stuffs his cock in my mouth." I reached down and gave the little knob protruding between her legs a little pinch and made her jump. "At least you're not missing one between your legs." That led the three of us into a long conversation on the merits of oral sex. Since Michelle and I had just been introduced into the acts that day, that made Kathy the expert. She told us in great detail about what she and Steve had done to each other. He had been somewhat accomplished when they had first done it, but everything she had done was a first for her. Except for me today, Steve had been the only person she had had any sort of sex with. I had a few questions about the bastard myself that I had been wanting to ask her but never thought the time was right. First, I asked her about all the fading bruises on her shoulder and upper arms. She winced slightly at the memory but said that Steve had had this habit of holding her tightly there whenever he fucked her and he sometimes lost control and squeezed a little too hard when he came. Then I had to ask her about that comment she'd made earlier about the only time she got off with Steve was when he was eating her pussy. I thought she must have been joking since she seemed to cum almost continuously when I fucked her. "After having you, I'd have to say that Steve wasn't very good, and definitely wasn't very long." "Steve had a little cock?" I asked in amazement. I'd always thought of him as the macho jock type. Kathy giggled. "No, it's not that.Size-wise, you're both about the same. It's just that once he got in me, he didn't last long. Even if we did it a second time, he always shot off long before I felt anything. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't any good. That's why I liked him to eat me. His tongue could last longer than his cock. It was Michelle's turn to giggle. "Well, I've only felt Simon's tongue there twice now, and he seems to have a strong tongue too. But even he shot off pretty fast the first couple of times we did it." "Really!" Kathy asked, looking back and forth between us. I reluctantly nodded, my face red. "Hell, I'd been waiting to get in Michelle for years. She was just too much for me." "But the way you did me this afternoon...Wow!" Kathy said in doubt. "I didn't think you were ever going to go off." I took that as a compliment, so I reached over for her and gave her a long, wet kiss of thanks. "I could have gone off as soon as you touched me," I told her. "You had me so worked up, and were so sexy." It was Kathy's turn to blush red. "But that wouldn't have been fun for either of us. I wanted you to cum." I turned to Michelle, not wanting to leave her out, and gave her a kiss too. "It's no fun unless the girl enjoys it too. The feeling when one of you goes off on me is just...well, it's almost better than when I do it myself. And when we both do it...wow!" That was enough of that for both girls. Kathy wanted me to make sure she didn't have a clit in her throat, so she sucked my cock into her mouth just to make sure. I went along with her and tried to see if the head of my cock could feel anything in there, but the sensations were too overwhelming for me to be certain. I pulled out before I could cum in her mouth. "I want to make love," I declared. Kathy graciously said that Michelle could have me first, since I "was hers." I kind of liked the thought of being Michelle's, but I really thought Kathy just wanted to go second because she thought I'd last longer that way. Kathy sat down in a cross-legged position just off the center of the bed and began playing with her wet pussy, while Michelle and I got into the missionary position, the way we always started. It was strange having an audience as I slowly made love to Michelle, but Kathy didn't want to miss a moment. She'd been too much of a participant the first time to really understand the slow process Michelle had dubbed "making love." The girls seemed really in time with each other, and as Michelle reached her first orgasm, I looked and saw Kathy's hand plunge herself into a matching ecstasy. It really took an effort for me not to shoot off with them, and I had to take a minute time-out to let myself calm down. Pulling out of Michelle, we switched positions. Unconsciously, I mimicked the same pattern I'd done with Kathy in the afternoon as Michelle lay on her side facing Kathy, while I slipped behind her and pushed my cock into that dripping mouth between her legs. After a minute of slow, deliberate pumps, I slipped a hand under Michelle so I could grab a breast in my hand. My other hand reached over the top of her so I could find her clit. Rubbing my finger in the sticky goo that was leaking out of our joined groins, I made it nice and slippery before I started to tickle her clit with it. Still sitting in front of us, Kathy let out a giggle of pleasure as Michelle let out a groan of one. Then, dropping onto her stomach, she leaned forward and began to kiss Michelle. I had a very good vantage point as I watched Michelle's cheek distend as Kathy's hot tongue pushed inside and dug around in her mouth. The two of them before me were making it harder and harder for me to hold on. Kathy made it even harder when she moved her mouth from Michelle's down to the breast in my hand and began to alternate licking my fingers and Michelle's hard nipple. I knew I wasn't going to be able to take much more of this. Then Kathy slowly licked her way downward. For a moment, I thought she was going to start on Michelle's cunt with my cock slowly going in and out, but instead, she pursed her lips and sucked on her extra clit, that little knob of a bellybutton that seemed directly connected to her pussy. Michelle let out a loud scream as she started to hump back on my cock. That was it; there was no holding back this time as Michelle's vagina clasped and pulled on my cock. I let out my own scream as I shot into her hot womb. "Yay!" Kathy added happily, getting a good view of our combined orgasm. "My turn now. My turn." "God, Kathy!" I begged. "Give me a minute to recuperate." As my cock pulled out of Michelle's full cunt with a loud, wet pop, Kathy dived on me and started licking the combined juices off of it as she hurriedly tried to get me hard again. I just lay and enjoyed it. Now, the strange thing about both Kathy and Michelle is that neither of them could ever be called a lesbian, or even bi. But both did enjoy kissing each other, and Kathy had a real fascination with Michelle's breasts...a fascination that I shared. Kathy even enjoyed licking Michelle's sticky juices off my cock and face, and Michelle eventually learned to like it too, but to the best of my knowledge, they never went any further than that. The furthest south either mouth ever touched was Michelle's extra clit, that bellybutton, and the only time I ever saw them touch the other's pussy was when they were helping each other shave. It would have been a kick to watch the two girls go down on each other, but I was more than satisfied to live with the way they were behaving now. As Kathy sucked me, she paused to show Michelle exactly what she was doing, giving Michelle a lesson in cock teasing. Then, deciding enough was enough, she spat me out and lay down for her turn. By the time I was through with Kathy, I was both sore and exhausted. The girls could have gone on, as Kathy was completely insatiable, but I had to back out. I felt a bit like I was letting my gender down, but there was no way I could go again tonight. Instead, we put another movie on the Beta and snuggled together on the bed to watch. It was great being sandwiched between the warm, soft bodies of two beautiful girls. I fell asleep to the gentle voices of Michelle and Kathy discussing the sexual positions of the couples and triples and, in some cases, quadruples on the screen. Chapter 10 Wednesday, Day 5 I awoke to a slight hissing sound to find Kathy snuggled up to me, her cheek on my shoulder. Again, she looked adorable, her features completely relaxed, her lips trembling ever so slightly as she breathed in and out. That had been the hissing sound that had woken me. Trying not to move and wake her, I reached a hand to the other side for Michelle, but she wasn't there. Turning my head to look, I could see her wrapped head to toe in a blanket just on the edge of the bed. Moving my pillow to support Kathy's head, I shifted myself over until I could reach out and touch Michelle. As my hand touched the roundness that I supposed must be her blanket-covered shoulder, she flinched away from me and rolled off the bed. Before I could ask her what was wrong, she fled into the bathroom and slammed the door. I was going to go after her when I felt Kathy grip my own shoulder from behind. Bleary-eyed and only half awake, she shook her head to get rid of last night's cobwebs. "When a girl runs into a bathroom and closes the door, you never ever follow her inside," she told me. "But Michelle..." "No buts. The bathroom is like Superman's Fortress of Solitude. Once the door is closed, it becomes off-limits to everyone else," she explained as she climbed up off the bed. As she walked over to the bathroom door and knocked, I couldn't help but admire the movement of those two small ass cheeks, even though I was more than a little worried about Michelle. "But it's all right for you to go in?" I asked. "Yes. She's my best friend, and we're both girls." The bathroom door opened timidly, and Kathy quickly entered before it could shut behind her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watched and waited for some answer. It was a very nerve-wracking fifteen minutes before Kathy came back out. Kathy looked at me with an embarrassed, sheepish grin. "Michelle's all right," she told me, relieving some of my tension. "It's just...a woman problem. She'll be back to normal in a couple of days, but she might be a bit different until then." It came to me what the problem was, but my knowledge of that part of female biology was a bit lacking. Michelle came back out of the bathroom, a robe tied tightly around her. She looked like she'd been crying, and she was still sniffling a bit. I jumped off the bed and ran to her. Grabbing her in a hug, I felt her flinch again and pull back from me. The rebuke made me feel like she had slapped me. Seeing my hurt expression, Michelle began to sob lightly again and hugged me, this time not pulling away as my arms went around her. "I'm sorry, Simon," she said between sniffles. "I wanted this week to be so perfect for us. And now...this. I knew I was due...I just hoped that it would wait a few days longer." "Michelle, it's all right," I finally said to her. "Nothing you do is ever wrong." That brought an even louder sob from her. I lightly kissed her on the lips and had her push back from me and run back into the bathroom. "Come on back to bed," Kathy said from behind me. "She'll be all right. It's just that Michelle gets kind of sensitive at this time of month, and she doesn't like to be touched. Me...it just makes me more horny." That, I had my doubts about. A hornier Kathy wouldn't be humanly possible. Eventually, I shuffled back to the bed and lay down next to her, but I couldn't get back to sleep. Kathy had a few ideas about curing that, but with Michelle like this, I just didn't feel right doing anything. And anyway, after last night, my penis felt a little bit too raw and sore for anything more right now.I heard the super shower running for about fifteen minutes before Michelle came back out, the robe tied tight around her again and a towel wrapped around her hair. She just gave me a sad look before leaving the bedroom and going down the hall to her own room. I lay there with Kathy cuddled up with me for a long time before Michelle peered around the door and said she was going downstairs to make everybody breakfast. She was completely dressed this time. I nudged Kathy and felt her moan slightly as she began to wake for a second time. "Come on," I told her. "Michelle's gone down to make breakfast, so we'd better hurry up and shower." She was still a bit groggy until the first jets of hot water hit her, then she livened up. We washed each other down with soap, my sore cock only jumping a little as I rubbed my hands over her body. Then she had a surprise for me. Undoing that long braid of blond hair, she asked me to help her wash it. It was the first time I'd seen her with it undone since I'd known her. Standing there with long strands of wet hair surrounding her and covering most of her face and upper body, I told her she looked like a sexy 'Cousin It'. After she was done chasing me around and mock beating me up about that comment, she had me rub in the shampoo then rinse it out, then repeated the process with a hair conditioner. I was a bit surprised how long the entire hair washing took, but I came to understand that old joke about a girl staying home a night to wash her hair. Rubbing the mass of twisted and knotty hair with a towel to dry it, she then asked me to brush it out. The whole thing took about a half hour, but she did look very pretty when it was done. Just tying it back with a barrette, she told me she'd wait for it to be completely dry before she braided it back up again. We both were fully dressed when we headed down. Michelle looked a bit uncomfortable when she saw us. She had reverted to hostess mode and had set the table for a meal. She said to just sit down and she'd bring in the waffles, eggs and bacon. I obeyed her, but Kathy went in the kitchen to help out. A couple of minutes later they came out with two trays covered in food. Michelle looked much better. She was smiling, and it didn't even look forced this time. We didn't do much talking as we dug in, but the atmosphere between us seemed to have lifted a bit. "I'd better get back home before lunchtime or my mom'll be phoning up worrying about me," Kathy said, stuffing the last piece of her maple syrup-covered waffle in her mouth. That was a frightening thought. Michelle and I were going to be alone again. "I could go home early if you want," I told Michelle. "I could just say that Ryan's family came home early for some reason." "Don't be silly, Simon," Michelle said as she piled the dirty dishes back on the trays. "I want you to stay." "But..." I began to ask, but Kathy gave my knee a squeeze and shook her head at me before I could finish the question. "Even if guys can't,...well..., fuck," Kathy whispered to me after Michelle took the dirty dishes into the kitchen. "She still needs you here." "Okay," I nodded. If Kathy said Michelle needed me, of course I'd stay. It would just be uncomfortably difficult to have her around and not be able to touch her. We sat in the living room watching game shows on TV for most of the morning. After Kathy's hair was dry enough, Michelle helped her weave it back into a long braid. Other than that, it was a quiet morning. About 11:00, Kathy said she'd better get home. Giving Michelle a hug, she then gave me a kiss goodbye, her hand giving me a good grope, before leaving. Now it was just Michelle and me. Me and Michelle. Michelle and me. I felt a bit lost without all the sexual possibilities that had joined us together the last five days. "How about we do some more homework?" I finally asked, not coming up with anything better. "We got everything done on Sunday," Michelle told me. I thought about that for a moment, then added, "Well then, how about we do some more math together. Next year I want you to be in the same class with me." Michelle smiled almost her Jello smile back at me. "You mean tutor me." "Yeah," I said, getting enthusiastic about the idea. "If we can just get your grade up a bit, you can move into the honors class with me." Michelle was a bit doubtful about that possibility but agreed to give it a try. For the next two hours, everything seemed almost normal between us as we sat next to each other at the kitchen table and went through the math textbook. She wasn't really bad at math; she just found it hard to visualize the numbers as anything except squiggles on a piece of paper. I helped her to learn how to try and actually see the numbers as more than that, to make them more real. Just memorizing times tables and formulas is good for the first few grades, but once you get into geometry and algebra, you have to learn the ability to let the numbers be fluid. Eventually, she seemed to grasp part of the idea, and she went through the trial problems I gave her much easier. We'd gotten a bit carried away when the doorbell rang. Looking up, we were surprised to find it was after 2:00. Michelle's smile melted me as she got up to go see who was at the door. It really came as a surprise for me when Michelle came back followed by Kathy carrying an overnight bag. "Hi," she said, giving me a long kiss. "I hope you two don't mind another guest for a while." I looked at Michelle, and she seemed genuinely happy that Kathy was back. "I asked Kathy in the kitchen this morning if she could come and stay for a few days," Michelle informed me. "My mom didn't put up much of a fight," Kathy added. "Once she found out Michelle wasn't feeling too well, she practically pushed me out the door. She has a hard time each month too." Michelle looked a bit embarrassed by that. "So what are you two up to?" Kathy joined us in the little study group. She was in the same math class Michelle was in and getting even worse marks, so any help there was much appreciated. We spent the rest of the afternoon grasping at the language of the universe. After having supper, we all sat on the sofa together in the living room and watched movies for the rest of the night. Regular ones this time. It was nice being between the two girls and not having to worry or think about sex. Michelle went to bed early at 10:00. This time she went to her own bedroom by herself, while Kathy and I shared her parents' bed. I felt more than a bit uncomfortable being alone with Kathy like this while Michelle was by herself just down the hall. Still, it didn't take much coaxing by Kathy for us to go at it. Neither of us had had any sex today, and I was no longer that sore. The first time, we went at each other like animals, pounding away at each other until we both climaxed together. I was more than a little glad that this room was soundproofed, both of us got a little bit noisy. The second time, I gently made love to her until Kathy was having just one long orgasm after another. She almost had to beg for me to finally cum inside her that second time. Afterward, we just held each other and drifted off to sleep. Thursday Day 6 --------------------- I woke in the morning right in the middle of a wet dream to a slurping sound and the feeling I was going to explode. Kathy was lying stretched out perpendicular to me, busily sucking away at my morning erection. I didn't even let her know I was awake as I watched her and enjoyed the effects that talented little mouth had on my cock. It didn't take long before she was getting a mouthful of my seed, all of which she hungrily sucked down, not missing a drop. As I began to soften, she just gently licked me, making sure that she hadn't missed any. "That was a nice way to wake up," I finally said to her. She flushed slightly as she looked up at me with a smile. "I just saw it there and well... you know the rest." I pulled her up to me and kissed her before letting her know that anytime she wanted to wake me up like that was fine with me. After our usual wash, we got dressed and headed downstairs. Neither of us wanted to run around naked while Michelle was in her current state. She was already setting the table when we got there. "You two have fun last night?" she asked. Suddenly, I felt extremely guilty, as if somehow I was cheating on her. She must have noticed my reaction, so she gave me a hug and a small peck on the cheek. "Don't be silly," she ordered me. "I asked Kathy to stay over, hoping you two would continue the way we were. I'm just disappointed I can't join in the fun yet." I felt a bit better after that, but still felt a bit guilty. As we had breakfast, we talked about what we were going to do that day. To my utter non-surprise, the girls wanted to go shopping. After the last time, I didn't mind the idea as much. I had had a pretty good time with Michelle, and with the both of them, I thought it would be even better. It definitely was better. We left just before lunch and stopped off at McDonald's first. Then we hit the malls. The girls mostly giggled to themselves while I followed behind, but once we hit a clothing store, I became their center of attention. It became a contest between them to see who could find the sexiest outfit. I just sat and watched them put on a show for me as they tried on outfit after outfit, gauging my reaction to each. Michelle might not be into sex at the time, but she still had fun teasing me. Kathy just enjoyed flashing me bare skin and trying to get a rise out of me. The male salesmen all gave me awed looks as they watched the two pretty teenagers competing for my attention. The female ones just either looked shocked or gave me questioning looks, as if they were wondering what I had that could interest the girls so much. Truthfully, so did I. Store after store, we jumped.I even used that same joke about going in the changing room with Kathy, but got a much different reaction. She was really all for that and even asked if I wanted to fuck her inside it. She seemed honestly disappointed when I backed down and just sat and waited for them to come out. It was a bit embarrassing for me when we ran into some people we knew. It was spring break after all, and any teenager who hadn't managed to go somewhere on vacation wandered the malls. Michelle and Kathy put on quite a show for them, fawning all over me. I imagined by Monday when we got back to school, I'd have quite a reputation. At about supper time, I splurged and blew the rest of my cash on taking the girls to a better restaurant. It wasn't anyplace really fancy. I didn't have the money or the reservation to take them to someplace like that, but I wanted to show them that I was grateful for everything that they had both shown me, and done with me. When we finally got back to Michelle's house, it was already after 8:00. A red light was flashing on the answering machine near the telephone. Turning the machine on, Michelle's mother's voice spoke out, "Michelle honey, where are you. Give me a call when you get home. You've got the number. Bye honey." "Oops," Michelle said. "I forgot about the nightly security check." Giving Kathy a hug and surprising me with a kiss on the cheek, she waved us away. "You two go upstairs and have fun. I've got to phone my parents, so I'll see you in the morning." Kathy grabbed me by the hand and pulled me upstairs after her. It wasn't like I was fighting going up with her. It was just a surprise that Michelle had sent us away like that. Our relationship was getting more and more confusing every day. Kathy shut the bedroom door behind us. "Just give me a minute in the bathroom. Get ready, and I'll be out soon." I stood there for a minute before I started to take off my clothes. Instead of just tossing them in a pile near the bed, I actually folded them up and put them on a chair. As I had expected, Kathy was completely naked when she came back out. She jumped on me, pushing me back on the bed and began to lick my neck and chin until she came up to my mouth. We just lay together, our mouths glued together, our hands stroking each other as we enjoyed the physical contact. "Would you eat me?" she asked, giving me a smile full of mischief. "I've already had one dessert tonight, but I'm always ready for seconds," I told her as I wiggled down and off the bottom of the bed. Grabbing her by the hips, I pushed her a bit up the bed so that I could comfortably reach her pussy while I kneeled on the floor and leaned over the foot of the bed. Inhaling deeply, I smelled something unusual. Then, sticking my tongue out, I slowly licked her slit from the bottom to the top and around the hardening button of her clit. "Strawberry?" I asked her, smacking my lips and enjoying the lingering taste. "I cleaned myself up for you," Kathy told me, still grinning. "It's been a long day, and I thought you might like me better like this. I've got a couple of different flavors if you don't like strawberry." I lowered my head again and really dug into her with my tongue. Then, giving her clit a little nibble with my lips, I looked up at her again. "It's really yummy," I admitted. "But I've kind have grown attached to your natural taste." "Really? Steve sort of preferred that I flavor myself." I quickly slipped up the bed and kissed her, then slipped back down and buried my face back between her thighs. By the time I had to come up for air, she was loudly panting and moaning in pleasure. "I'm not Steve. And I like you just the way you are." After that, she quickly came on my tongue, drowning me in a sweet nectar with just a hint of strawberry. When I crawled back up to her, she threw her arms around me, licked my face clean of her juices, and then just hugged me tightly, her head on my shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered in my ear softly. "My pleasure," I said, and meaning it. I really got a jolt out of feeling her orgasm under my face. "Not for that silly," she said, giving me a mock punch. "I mean for what you said to me. Nobody's ever said anything like that to me before." "Well, as we both know, Steve's an asshole, and every other guy is just too dazzled by your beauty to even talk to you. Give it time. Guys will be begging to drool all over your pretty little feet soon." "I don't want any other guy," she told me, then kissed me so hard I thought we were going to permanently graft together. "Want me to do you now?" she asked me. "How 'bout a soak first," I asked her, then introduced her to the marvels of Michelle's parents' Jacuzzi. It was a long wet night for us both, in many ways. We more than caught up with all the sex we hadn't had in the last two days, and then some. Friday Day 7 ----------------- I slowly woke up the next morning the best way possible. I could feel a warm wet mouth stroking and sucking on my cock, a hand gently cupping my balls. I just lay there for a minute enjoying the familiar blissful sensation. "Hmmm, Kathy. That's really good," I said to her. "Uh-uh, lover," I heard her familiar sweet voice next to my ear while she sucked hungrily on my pounding erection. Opening my eyes, I could see her face near mine, an impish smile on her face. She quickly glued her face to mine in a sloppy kiss, her tongue diving into my mouth. "She's pretty good, isn't she?" Kathy asked as she came up, a trail of saliva still joining our mouths. I looked down and found a mass of wildly scattered red hair bobbing up and down on my groin. Kathy slipped down my body and shoved the hair away so I could get a good look. I'd known it had to be Michelle blowing me, but it still came as a surprise to see her green eyes stare up at me, her mouth full of my hot flesh. "God, yes," I said, letting out a groan as her tongue teased the sensitive crown of my penis while still in her mouth. "And to think this is her first-ever blowjob," Kathy added enthusiastically, her head synchronistically bobbing up and down next to Michelle's. "She's a natural." I just lay there enjoying the feeling as Kathy coached Michelle on what to do. When she finally told her to wrap one hand around the base of my cock and pump while the other gently massaged my testicles, I couldn't hold back any longer. Not knowing if Michelle wanted me to shoot off in my mouth, I gasped out, "I'm cumming!" a few seconds before I exploded. Kathy told her to take me as far as she could in her throat and swallow, which to my pleasure she did, or at least tried to do. She managed the first few squirts before choking and coughing. She had to quickly spit out my spurting dick, which Kathy pounced on, sucking madly on it, her cheeks distending as she yanked the cum right out of me. Michelle watched, her coughing ceasing, a drop of white syrup rolling down the corner of her mouth as her best friend gobbled up what she missed. Finally pulling off of my softening cock, Kathy looked up at Michelle. "Let me get that for you." She reached out with her tongue, wiping up the spilled cum and pushing it back into Michelle's mouth. As they Frenched, swirling my semen back and forth in their two joined mouths, my cock began to start to grow again. "Wasn't that great," Kathy stated ecstatically. "I just love a wet cock in my mouth." "I think I got a bit lost there at the end," Michelle said, her voice still a bit hoarse. "Don't worry. I'm sure Simon will let you practice until you get it right. Right, Simon?" "As much as you want," I agreed quickly. "I'm just glad you're back." The two naked girls slithered up my body, and we joined in that three-way French kiss we had learned to do. It was strange, as I could still taste something that had to have just jetted out of my cock, but coming from their two purring, passionate mouths, I didn't mind at all. "You all right now?" I asked Michelle. "I'm better," Michelle stated. "But it still might be a few days before I'll let you eat my pussy. Other than that, I'm as horny as normal." "Glad to hear it." After that, we all ran screaming and giggling into the super shower for a good, long soak... and fuck. I wanted to try something that we'd done before but in what I hoped would be a safer place. On the bed, I had thought I was going to die as the girls both sat on me at the same time, but without the softness of the mattress allowing them to drop so far, I thought it would be possible now. I pulled out the bench again and set it right in the center of the little room, then lying on it on my back, I told them to come over. Since Michelle didn't want to be eaten, and I didn't really want to eat her at this time of the month, I told her to get on my cock, while Kathy got to stand over my face. Michelle stepped over me, and Kathy held my penis straight up for her as she bent her knees and slipped me deep inside. Then Kathy mounted my face, her cunt already dripping its natural lubrication. The girls leaned on to each other for support while they each ground themselves into me. It was much better this way as I didn't have to worry about suffocating while enjoying them both. Kathy was the first to let out a scream as my tongue wrapped around her hard little clit and pulled it into my mouth. What juices the hot water from above didn't quickly wash away, I hungrily slurped up. As she slumped forward on to Michelle, she pulled a hard nipple into her mouth and began to chew on it. That was too much for Michelle's sex-deprived body to take, and she began to slam up and down on me as her own orgasm rocked her. Not wanting to be left out, I let a screaming groan out, which Kathy greatly enjoyed, and shot my second load of the day deep into Michelle's tight warmth. Afterward, I gently shoved them off of me, and we huddled together on the bench, enjoying each other's presence and the streaming water raining down from above.It was much better this time not having to fear for my life, though that surge of adrenaline last time did make for a very memorable climax. After breakfast, we had to start work. We still had more than a day until Michelle's parents and brother came back, but it was a big house, and we didn't want Michelle getting into any trouble. First, we opened all the windows to let the place air out. After staying out all yesterday, we had all noticed the sweaty, overpowering odor of sex permeating the house, and that would be a dead giveaway if it wasn't gone by tomorrow. Next, we went upstairs and went room by room, making a list of things that needed cleaning up or washing. Michelle completely skipped her brother's room again, declaring any mess in there his business. Michelle's bedroom had only been used twice by her, and once that first day, so there wasn't much that needed to be done in there but strip the bed and add the sheets to the pile of washing. The guest room hadn't even been touched, so we left that. The main bathroom upstairs needed a bit of cleaning up, so we added that to the list. The two rooms that needed the most work were Michelle's parents' bedroom and their bathroom. Downstairs, the living room just needed to be tidied up a bit. We always cleaned up the dining room after each use, so there wasn't much there to do. The kitchen wasn't a mess, but there was a bit of cleaning in there. We hadn't even used the downstairs bathroom. That left her father's study and mother's art room. We'd only used them a little that first day. We were getting a bit silly after the first few fucks and had decided each room needed to be christened properly, and loudly. We had to straighten her father's desk a bit, as a large flat surface can come in handy, but we hadn't disturbed anything in her mother's room. So, we now had a list. Michelle decided to leave her parents' bedroom and bathroom until tomorrow morning since we'd only mess them up again by then. It was late afternoon before we managed to complete everything on the list, with a few breaks for lunch and carnal recreation. We were all sweaty and dusty by that time, so we decided a nice long soak would help. It got rid of the dusty part, but we managed to work up another sweat by the time we got out. The two girls got real playful when they got naked and wet. The most memorable event for me was a little contest between them to see who could get me to cum first. We sat in the hot, swirling water, and they'd take turns diving under and blowing me, switching when they had to come up for air. Michelle had the better lung capacity and could stay down longer, but Kathy had the experience and technique and managed to get me to shoot off in her mouth. As usual now, Kathy shared her winnings with Michelle in a sticky, soulful kiss. After that, we just ordered a pizza for supper and spent the rest of the night in bed watching a couple more of the movies we hadn't gotten to yet. It was a thrill watching them, but much better experiencing the real thing with my two lovely girls. Saturday - Last Day I was going to really miss waking up like this every morning. I just lay there, still half asleep, as a soft, warm wetness engulfed me, sending little bursts of pleasure up my spine. Opening my still foggy eyes, I looked down and saw both Michelle and Kathy very busily, and noisily, slurping on my erect cock. One would swallow my cock, and the other would suck on my balls, then they'd switch positions, and then from either side of my cock, they would French kiss, their tongues licking around it to meet. "Kathy?" I said in a daze. When she looked up, I added, "Come here." I reached for her, pulling her first in for a long, wet kiss before pulling her up so she could straddle my face. This time, I had her so she was facing towards me, so when I looked up, I could see her small, firm breasts jiggle and her pretty elfin face contort with passion as my tongue went to work on her. I could feel Michelle busy down below, sucking on me like a vacuum cleaner, and her newfound expertise was having a quick effect on me. I let out a scream into Kathy's pussy as I shot stream after stream of jism into Michelle's mouth. She hung on, keeping me inside the whole time, only releasing me after my last spasm and then licking me clean. She was getting very good at that. I was going to really miss that tomorrow morning. Kathy still hadn't reached her own peak yet, so I concentrated on her firm little clit, only diving down every ten seconds to lick up the excess moisture and shove my tongue deep inside her. Sucking on her hard knob, I felt her shiver in anticipation of what was to come. When she began to grind herself into my face, I knew she was there. Giving her sensitive clit a long, tight lick, I quickly moved down to the slit leading inside and fucked her with my tongue as she began to convulse in ecstasy. Looking up, I saw her face tighten, then her eyes fly wide open as the high point of the orgasm hit her. She never looked more beautiful than she did right then. I continued to lick at her as she dropped, and she had to pull away from me when the I touched her now supremely sensitive clit. She collapsed next to me, a beatific smile on her face, her breath still coming in short pants. "That...that was reeeeeeally good." I reached out and kissed her so she could have a taste of herself, then feeling Michelle cuddle up close behind me, I turned to her and let her have a taste too. We just lay there, our wet skin pressed to each other for an eternity. None of us wanted to move, to lose that moment together. But we still had much to do. "We'd better get up," Michelle finally had to say. The three of us sighed with reluctance, but agreed that we had to get up. Gathered in the shower, we all washed each other down. The sensation of all that soapy, silky smooth skin quickly excited me. I pulled over the bench and lay back on it the same way I had yesterday. Kathy came over to my head, but instead, I picked her little body right off the floor and lowered her onto my hard, throbbing cock. Then I pulled Michelle over and told her I wanted to eat her. She'd done such a good job this morning that I wanted to reciprocate. She was a bit reluctant, but all three of us had given her a good washing, and she was as clean as she could ever be. When she straddled my face, facing a happily bobbing Kathy, I pulled her down and stabbed my tongue deep up inside her. I didn't notice any difference in taste. She was still my yummy Michelle. Reaching up with my hands, I found that Kathy had already assumed her usual position, her face glued to one of Michelle's ample breasts as she hungrily sucked in a hard nipple. I reached over and caught one of her own and began to tweak the nipple as I gently stroked the side of her face with the other. I don't know if it was that Michelle was primed because it had been days since I had last eaten her or it was just that I was getting better at gobbling pussy, but it only took a minute before she started humping my face and covering it with her sweet juices as she came. As she reached the down point and started to relax, she began to pull off me, but I grabbed her by her hips and held her to me so I could keep mining between her legs with my tongue. I didn't stop or let go until she finally reached another one, this time with both Kathy and I joining in. As we shakily separated, our muscles quivering from the workout, we realized that we were going to have to wash ourselves again. After getting ourselves clean, we kept the shower running and began the long job of scrubbing the shower. It became much easier when Michelle jumped out for a moment to come back with a big sponge mop. We mopped off each wall and the floor until no evidence of our presence. Out of the shower, we dropped the face-cloths we had used in a clothes hamper and began to wipe each other dry with large, fluffy towels. Reasonably dry now, Michelle added the towels to the laundry, stripped the bed in the other room, and ran downstairs to throw everything in the washing machine. At the same time, Kathy and I began the long job of cleaning the Jacuzzi. On hands and knees, we scrubbed it with sponges until it gleamed like new. Michelle had come back up and was washing out the toilet and the bidet. It was 10:30 before Michelle judged that the bathroom was as clean as we were going to get it. In the bedroom, we made the bed and gathered every article of clothes or evidence we had been there. I had to remind Michelle to make sure she put away her parents' tape collection back where she had got them from. Then we retired downstairs for a late breakfast. By 11:00, we had finished and dropped all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. We only had an hour left together. Michelle's parents weren't due back until later this afternoon, but we had decided to play it safe and go our separate way by noon. I grabbed a girl's hand in each of mine and pulled them behind me as I went back upstairs. Instead of her parents' room, I headed to Michelle's own. There was no use messing up, and maybe smelling up, a room we would just have to clean again. Michelle's room would be much safer. "I want to make love to each of you once more," I told the two beautiful, naked girls standing before me. The bed was big enough for two if they were really friendly, which we intended to be. "Michelle can go first," Kathy said. "You're hers." Michelle reached out for her friend, pulled her into a tight hug, and gave her a long, wet kiss that left them both gasping for breath. "Not anymore," Michelle finally announced. She turned to me, her eyes saying "please," and asked me, "You don't mind if we share you from now on, do you?" I pulled her to me and kissed her just as passionately as she had kissed Kathy, then turned to Kathy and asked, "What do you think of that?""She just took a running jump, knocking us both back onto the bed and added another kiss to the lot. "I think she agrees," Michelle said with a giggle. "And it looks like she's going first." My penis had to agree with that as it jumped up and began to dig into Kathy's thigh. I reached down and aimed it toward its goal and then pushed my hips up until it penetrated. "Uhhhhhh," Kathy groaned, finally releasing my mouth from hers. I rolled us over so I was on top and began to slowly thrust deep inside her. Bending forward, I sucked in one of those hard cherries at the tip of her breasts and began to chew on it. I stopped everything as I began to hear a sobbing sound and looked up at Kathy's face to see her crying, long streams of tears flowing down the sides of her face. "Don't stop!" she cried out to me. "Never stop." I started thrusting back into her and leaned over to lick the salty trails off of her, then planted a series of light kisses over her entire face. I felt a hand on my back and turned to find Michelle sitting on the edge of the bed, a happy smile beaming down at us. She gently stroked my back in the same rhythm as I pounded into Kathy. "Yes!" Kathy began to scream as her pelvis pushed against me and her vagina clamped itself around my cock, holding me tight inside as it milked me dry of semen. "Yes!" She wrapped her arms around me and held on tightly until our hearts slowed down back to normal, then with a small sad smile she gave me a peck on the lips and said, "Michelle's turn now." My cock made a slurping suction sound as it pulled out of Kathy, dripping slowly onto the blanket beneath us. Michelle looked at Kathy and then my sticky cock. "You want to clean it," she asked Kathy. Kathy gave me a long look before shaking her head, "I'll do it after he's filled you up too. Unless you want to do it." "It's all yours," Michelle declared as she lay stretched out on her back next to us. "Good," Kathy said, clapping her hands like a little girl. "I want to taste all three of us." My cock had only begun to soften, and the thought of sweet little Kathy licking it clean after I came in Michelle hardened it right back up fast enough. I just moved a foot to my right so I was between Michelle's thighs and pushed inside her already dripping pussy. Kathy just lay next to us, a blissful glow about her, as I began to pump and roll my hips into Michelle. As I leaned forward to suck in a nipple like I had on Kathy, she joined in and sucked in the other one. Michelle seemed to really like that and began to purr passionately back to us. "You really like my boobs?" Michelle asked her friend. "They're so big and beautiful," Kathy answered back before gobbling it back into her mouth. Michelle reached out with a hand and began to rub her fingertips over Kathy's nipples in return. "Mine are so small," Kathy finally said, saliva running down her chin and covering Michelle's breast. "Even Steve wished I'd had bigger ones." I had to pull myself off Michelle's breast at that. "Kathy, remember we all know that Steve's an asshole," I told her forcefully. "You have beautiful breasts. I wouldn't change a thing about them." "Do you like them better than Michelle's?" she asked me, a cheeky, knowing smile on her face. "I...I..." I stuttered, looking back and forth between their faces and mammaries. "I,...I like them both. You're both so different, but both so beautiful. It would be like comparing apples and..." "...watermelons?" Michelle jumped in before both girls began to giggle uncontrollably. I reached out and pulled Kathy into a kiss, then did the same to Michelle. "I love you both," I said. There I said the 'L' word. I didn't think I'd have the nerve to do it, but it just came out. I don't know if it was that or just the mood that we were in, but Michelle took that moment to climax. She let out a single loud gasp as she gushed wetly over my cock. Her whole lower body spasming again and again. I managed only a few more pumps before I shot deep inside of her. As I slowly pulled out and saw the sticky mess that covered my limp cock, I realized that Kathy was in for a real meal. She just stared at it, yelled "Yum!", and dived down to feast. First, she licked the excess that was dripping off my balls and onto the bed, then worked her way up, careful not to miss a drop, until she reached my penis. Then, she grabbed my balls in her hand and milked any stray drops left inside out and quickly licked them off and swallowed them. Michelle and I just watched in silent awe. After she was finished, the three of us just lay huddled, a tangle of sweaty body parts in the bed. I was the first to notice that Michelle's alarm clock said it was 12:10. "It's after 12:00," I said. "We'd better go." "I don't want to go," Kathy said, tightening her grip on the two of us. "Neither do I," I said, giving her a short kiss on the chin. "But we don't want Michelle to get in trouble." Kathy slowly released us both, and we awkwardly rolled off the bed. "Want us to help clean this up?" I asked, looking at the sweaty, sticky sheets on the bed. "No," Michelle just said, giving us both a pat and push on our naked bottoms. "You two go get dressed, and I'll meet you downstairs." Kathy and I made our way to the living room where we'd left our bags and dug through them to find clean clothes to wear. I watched her every move as she stepped into her panties and strapped on her bra. It was just as erotic to watch a girl dress as it was to watch her undress. By the time we were both putting on our socks, Michelle had joined us, still stark naked. The three of us just stood looking at each other for a minute. Then Kathy began to sob again. Michelle and I both rushed her, swallowing her little body up in a group hug. The two of us rained kisses back at her until her sobs changed to giggles. "I love you two," Kathy said, joining us in the wet assault. That sent Michelle off now, and I had to fight off a bout myself. Michelle kissed me and whispered, "I love you" at me, then did the same to Kathy. Being the man, thinking I had to be the strong one, I was the first to pull myself out of the group clinch. "I'd better go," I said, picking up my bag. Kathy picked up hers too and hooked it over a shoulder. At the door, we stopped again and each gave the other a quick last kiss. "I'll call you both tonight," I said before opening the door. The girls both agreed to that. Kathy quickly ran out before she could start bawling again. I gave Michelle a quick peck before racing after her. I quickly caught up with her and grabbed her before she could get too far. Walking her home, I held her hand all the way there."She'd always had a knack for manipulating people into being happy. She took that as the compliment we had meant it as. Unfortunately, the school she needed to go to was halfway across the country. Kathy wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to finally study, but her parents wanted her to go to the university where they had met, in Quebec. That was even farther away than Michelle's. Thankfully, languages was one of the few things that she really excelled at, beating both my and Michelle's grades. She was completely fluent in French, which would be a bonus where she was going, and Russian. Her father was originally from Georgia, the Soviet one, not the American one, and had taught her to speak it as she grew up. We spent as much time together as we could before they had to leave, fucking ourselves silly. Then I was alone and had to relearn the acquaintanceship of Mr. Handy. I hadn't really needed him much in the last couple of years. The three of us wrote and phoned each other constantly, and once I talked them through a brief introduction in the UNIX operating system and emailing, we were in touch every day. When either of them came back to town for a visit or a holiday, they'd spend the first day with their family, and then I'd rent a hotel room, and we'd spend the day getting to know each other again, again and again. I was still staying with my mom. I know that sucks, but I didn't have the money for both the university and an apartment. The only time the three of us managed to get together was the summer and at Christmas. Then, at the beginning of my second year, Kathy surprised us both by telling us she was getting married at Christmas. Michelle was Maid of Honor, and I was invited. Kathy seemed awkward and nervous when we saw each other, but I was glad to see her and wanted to check out her groom-to-be for myself. I've always been more than a little protective of her. Maybe it was the way Steve had treated her, or maybe it was just that she was so small, adorable, and sensitive. Anyway, her soon-to-be husband turned out to be a nice guy, even if he was more than twenty years older than her. It certainly wasn't the first time a professor had fallen for a student. He really seemed to worship Kathy, so I approved. The night before the wedding, Michelle and I were noisily pounding away at each other in our hotel room when a loud thumping on the door made us jump. We donned robes and answered it to find Kathy outside. She was woozy on her feet and more than a little drunk. As soon as she saw us, she began to sob loudly. Inside, both of us held her until she was coherent enough to talk, but all she would do in her present condition was repeat over and over that she was sorry for leaving us, then start to sob again. We both told her that everything was all right and if this guy was making her happy, then everything was great with us. That just started her crying again. That night, we slept with a naked Kathy between us, holding her until she cried herself to sleep. We were all naked, and close, but there really wasn't any sexual quality to what we did that night. I was kind of glad about that because Michelle had really worn me out. But I would miss Kathy. Michelle and I went back to school, dated, and sometimes got involved with other people, but always got together when we could. I had just graduated after five years, the engineering program was a five-year course, and Michelle was still going to the same university she had originally chosen when she told me that she was going to get married. This time, it didn't come as much as a surprise to me since she had gone on and on about another grad student she had met the last time she had come to town. It may sound strange to you, to lie in a bed dripping from the sweat we had just created during a 2-hour bout of passion and then talk about your love life with other people, but that was how Michelle and my relationship went. Again, I was invited to watch a woman I loved marry another guy, but like I told Kathy the night before her wedding, if he made her happy, I was all for it. Kathy was Michelle's Maid of Honor this time. It was strange seeing her again. I knew all about her life. She and Michelle were still pretty close, and Michelle told me everything. She hadn't changed since the last time I'd seen her, but she was still more than a bit nervous around me. I was alone in my hotel room this time when a knock made me answer the door. It was Kathy again, but this time, she wasn't drunk. I invited her inside, and she timidly entered, and we just stared at each other silently before she started to sob again and ran into my arms. "I missed you so much," she whimpered between tears. "I'm so sorry." That night, we got very reacquainted. Neither of us really felt that she was cheating on her husband. From Michelle, I knew that she was still happily married and even had a little boy. It was just two old friends sharing each other. After that, the '3 fuckateers' were back together. We still didn't get together that often, but when we did, it was always hot and relieving. A year after Michelle graduated, the good doctor and her husband moved back to town and set up practice together. I was happy just to see Michelle more often. We had a standing appointment together every week, last thing Friday afternoon, in her office. Her receptionist always gave me a knowing look when I went in, but Michelle said he could be trusted. Our sessions together could not really be called psycho-therapy, but there was a lot of primal screaming involved, and we would always end up in each other's arms and then talk through any problems we had. I'm sure Michelle could call the relationship the three of us had some sort of co-dependent gobbledygook, but I always thought we were the sanest people I knew. I was never sure how much the girls' husbands knew about, or understood, our relationship, and sometimes felt a little guilty about it, but learned to live with it. Kathy was here last week, but was a bit too pregnant for anything to really happen between us, though she does still give the best blow-jobs I've ever had. The three of us stayed together her last night here, her cheering us on while Michelle and I put on a show for her, then sleeping naked together in the bed. We had to be careful in her condition, but she still looked as beautiful as I had first seen her, even with a stomach that forced her to waddle. Michelle herself has two adorable little girls who just love their uncle Simon. Her eldest is a perfect little miniature version of Michelle, so I know she's going to be a heart-mender when she grows up. I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'm actually her father, but have never felt the need to broach the subject with Michelle. I'm sure she knows, though, that if little Simone ever needs a kidney or anything, I'll be there for her. The end.

Chapter 2

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/16153.txt

J. Boswell

Christmas with the Andersons

'Lakeview Crest,' where the Andersons lived, was a fairly exclusive development of large suburban homes. The land had once been a farm on the crest of a hill overlooking one of the city's man-made lakes that provided water for the area. The land surrounding the community was undeveloped and would stay that way as protected watershed land. The farm should have been subsumed into the watershed decades ago, when the lakes were begun, but for some reason (probably a lot of cash spread over a lot of hands or a connection on the zoning commission) the farm was never included in the public property. Years later, a developer found the farm tucked away down a long, dusty road and made the dying farmer an offer the old farmer couldn't refuse for the continued welfare of his family. The developer quickly subdivided the property into about sixty lots (after some more money passed through some more hands) and built large homes on them. For himself, the developer restored and expanded the Civil War era farmhouse/mansion and lived on the largest and best lot, overlooking the lake. That developer was James Arthur Ripley Stone. Jim Stone was a multi-millionaire and proud to show it. He built shopping strips and malls and suburban office buildings all over the country. And this had been a particularly good year because one of his designs for a medical building became popular with the growing number of HMOs all over the nation. Business couldn't be better. One of his favorite occasions to show off was his annual Christmas Party. His house was decorated in the 1990's interpretation of Victorian England splendor. The forty-foot spruce on the front lawn was expertly shaped and strung with thousands of lights and topped with a four-foot star. For the party, between the house and tree, the lawn was covered with a huge striped tent. Inside the heated tent were more lights and trees, poinsettias, tables, chairs, a long buffet table, Santa, a band, a dance floor, two bars, and people, people, people. Walking around, greeting neighbors, friends, business associates, bankers, company attorneys and CPAs, and the pick of the people providing him and his family with services throughout the year was Jim Stone, playing his most secretly cherished role -- Lord of the Manor. Robert Anderson arrived home in time to shower and dress for the big fete. As the four happy Andersons walked hand-in-hand through the chilly-but-not-cold night to the Stone house, they waved at neighbors and enjoyed seeing all the Christmas decorations. As a neighborhood tradition, on the night of the Stone's party, the entire neighborhood was lit with luminaries placed along the curbs and up driveways. The small white paper bags glowed from the flame of the candle in each, outlining the streets and making each intersection beautiful. It was almost magical. The Andersons made their way up the long, curving driveway of the Stone house and stepped into the tent. After checking their coats, they made their way over to the line of people waiting to wish the Stones a happy holiday. Jim Stone was in a black tuxedo with a bright red velvet bow tie and cummerbund. Beside him was his statuesque wife, Regina, in a floor-length red velvet dress, and beside her, their daughter, Mindy and her husband, Carl. The Stones greeted the Andersons heartily and Regina patted Amanda on the head, "My, you've gotten so big, and so pretty! Who's this gorgeous man next to you, Amanda -- some Hollywood actor on holiday?" Amanda winced at the corniness, but was proud of her big brother, "You remember Bobby, Mrs. Stone. He's home from college." Regina Stone faked an astonished look and grabbed Bobby close to her in a bearhug, "Bobby! I hardly recognized you! College life is certainly agreeing with you. It must be all those young coeds, eh, Bobby?" Bobby could feel himself blushing, "Hi, Mrs. Stone. Good to see you again." Regina hugged Bobby tightly again and whispered into his ear, "Save a few minutes for old Mrs. Stone, later, Bobby, dear. I want to take you over to the house and show you something very special. Okay?" Bobby had no idea what she was talking about but answered, "S-sure, Mrs. Stone. Whenever you're ready." But Regina had already directed her attention to the next couple in the greeting line. Confused, Bobby made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. While he was standing there, admiring the women and girls at the party, his friend Scott sidled up beside him. "Hey." "Hey, yourself, Scott. What's up?" "Well, the food and the booze are great, as usual, but the number of unattached honeys may be at an all time low. But, damn, they all look so good, all dressed up. Anyway, the best looking girl here is your sister." "And she's hands off -- right?" "Sure, sure, Bobby. But I heard about you and one of Amanda's little playmates the other night." Bobby winced, "Yeah, Heather -- don't remind me. Any port in a storm, I guess." Scott smiled, "Yeah. Well, that's a pretty busy port. Docked there, myself, last night. She's a hot little thing!" "She is that." Bobby tilted his head towards their hosts. "So, what have I missed in the Stone's saga by being away for five months?" Scott looked over at Jim Stone, puffing on a huge cigar and laughing loudly. At his side, smiling and greeting people was his wife, Regina. Regina Stone, never at risk of being called "Lady" of the Manor, was, putting it politely, a wild woman. She was a legend in her own time. "The only thing I heard about was the Halloween party, where she showed up in a very small, very red bathing suit and with three male-model hunks in tow in red bathing suits. She said they were `Baywatch.'" "She's unbelievable." Bobby started to tell Scott about Regina's strange invitation, but decided to keep it to himself for the moment. He ordered another beer. "Amanda! Amanda Anderson!" Amanda turned from watching the dancers to see the Miller family approaching. "Hi, Mrs. Miller, Rasheed, Yolanda." Amanda's smile dimmed as she looked at Mr. Miller, "Hello." Mrs. Miller was all smiles and full of good cheer, "Amanda, where have you been, girlfriend? The kids miss you terribly. Any chance of you coming back?" Amanda had babysat for the Miller children for over a year, and had spent almost the entire summer watching them. But with starting high school and trying out for teams, she hadn't had the time. "And I miss the kids. But, no, I just don't have the time with my schoolwork and games and practice." "Well, you are the best babysitter we've ever had, dear. Isn't she, Ron?" She looked at her husband. He smiled and nodded, "No doubt about that. The best ever." Amanda spent a few minutes chatting with the young children and then wished the Millers a merry Christmas. Mrs. Miller hugged Amanda. "Thanks, Dear. Please stop by during the holidays. The kids have something wrapped for you under the tree. You have to stop by, anyway, Amanda. Besides Christmas, this year we're celebrating Kwanzaa, too. The kids are learning all about it in day school." "Sure, I'll stop by, Mrs. Miller. I think there's some stuff for Yolanda and Rasheed under our tree, too. It was nice to see all of you again. Merry Christmas." Hours later, the party had settled into its normal routine. Amanda was with her friends, taking one of the carriage rides through the neighborhood.Robert, Senior was engrossed in conversation with the other businessmen in the neighborhood, raging against government interference, wishing for the return of the Reagan years, and drinking Jim Stone's bourbon. Laurie was happily dancing the night away, and maybe holding her partners just a little tighter than necessary during the slow tunes. And, Bobby? Bobby was sitting close to the bar with a few friends when he caught Regina Stone subtly motioning to him. She was standing near the exit, curling her finger, indicating he was to join her. As he stood, Regina motioned again and disappeared out of the tent. Bobby followed Regina out of the tent and through the covered passage to the house. Ahead of him, she mounted the steps, crossed the porch and opened the front door, leaving it open behind her. ['What the hell is going on?' Bobby wondered.] She had hardly even acknowledged his existence before tonight, and now this? What did she want to show him? Why was she staying so far ahead and having him follow her? He really had no idea what was going on, but with her reputation and history of outrageous behavior, some small part of him hoped it would be something sexy. Regina Stone had been a model. Not a Milan/New York runway model, but one of the more famous local faces. She had done many area fashion shows and benefits and had been a regular in the pages of local stores' ads and catalogs. It was at a Christmas charity show, where she and a few other girls were modeling lingerie in a very private show for a very select group of wealthy businessmen that she met Jim Stone. She knew the look in his eyes the instant she saw him, and she knew she was going to marry well. Now, years later, with a husband away nine months of the year and all the money she could spend, she did exactly as she pleased and didn't care who was watching. Jim Stone had a pretty good idea what went on behind his back but he was nearing sixty-five and could no longer keep up with his much younger wife, and he didn't want to spend the time and energy to find another wife. Besides, Regina still looked good and handled all the things he expected his wife to handle, and, his ego liked the idea of these other men wanting his wife -- he wondered how many of the guests they had greeted at the start of the evening (neighbors, friends, landscapers, pool cleaners, construction workers, deliverymen and on and on) had tasted Regina's considerable charms often and enthusiastically during the years while he was away on business. And, finally, and maybe the best reason he tolerated her indiscretions was that there was no pre-nuptial agreement. Bobby was surprised to see so many people in the house. He thought the party was confined to the tent, but there were people looking at the Stone's Christmas tree, decorated differently each year (this year, it looked like all the ornaments were Irish crystal). There was food in the dining room and dozens of bottles of wine open on the table. The wide stairway was blocked with wide red ribbons -- a sign to the guests to remain downstairs. When Bobby finally saw Regina again, she was standing in the kitchen doorway. She tilted her head for Bobby to follow and walked through the crowd of caterer's people busily rushing about the kitchen with hot pans and dishes of steaming food. Around the corner, Bobby found the back stairs to the second floor. When he entered the stairwell, he saw Regina looking down from the top step. She smiled and said, "Lock it behind you, dearie, and hurry up!" As Bobby reached the top of the stairs he looked to his right and saw what was obviously the master bedroom suite. To his left, Regina was motioning for him to join her in another room at the end of the long hall. Bobby reached the doorway and looked in, thanking the gods in heaven as he watched Regina lowering the long zipper on her red party dress. "Come in, Bobby. Don't be shy. Here, darling, help me with my zipper." Bobby stepped closer and pulled the zipper down until it stopped. Regina turned to face him and with the slightest arm motion, her dress slid to the floor. "Merry Christmas, Bobby!" Bobby stared in awe. He guessed Regina was somewhere in her mid-to-late-forties, but here she stood looking incredible. Her skin was white and smooth. Her breasts were fabulous -- high and firm on her chest. She was still wearing her high heels and pantyhose but they were the strangest pantyhose he had ever seen. At the top there were openings, and the hose went up to a waistband, almost like a built-in garter belt, leaving her pussy and ass naked! Regina smiled at the obvious rapture on Bobby's face. "You like, Bobby-dear?" She cupped her breasts in her hands, squeezing the flesh and pinching her nipples. "These are the best money can buy. Did your mom buy hers? Or is she one of those lucky ones who were born with a set of knockers like that? Well, come on, boy, enough gawking, let's get this show on the road! I have a party I'm hosting!" With that, Regina reached down and started unbuckling Bobby's belt. In seconds, Bobby had shed his pants, underwear, and shoes and followed Regina down on to the big bed. "Nothing above the neck, Bobby-dear. Mustn't mess up my make-up." Bobby lavished kisses on her large tits, licking and sucking and nibbling her nipples. "Ohh, very nice, dearie. Can you go a little lower?" Eager to please, Bobby kissed his way down Regina's stomach and into her trimmed bush, finding her hard, little clit. He sucked it between his teeth and began licking it with his tongue. "Oh, god, how I love young men!" Regina exclaimed. While this wild scene played out, Bobby couldn't believe it was happening. He felt he was living out one of his junior high wet dreams. Here he was in bed with one of the major players in many of his wet dreams. Regina Stone had fueled more than a few hand-jobs. She had been the first woman Bobby had ever seen in a thong bikini. Even dressed up, Bobby had seen few lower-cut blouses or shorter miniskirts than what Regina Stone wore. He remembered some of her costumes at neighborhood Halloween parties -- as a harem girl, a sexy nurse right out of a porno video, and as Lady Godiva. He had heard the stories about her and her many torrid affairs behind Jim Stone's back. And, now, he was a participant in the legend! "Ooooo! You're good! Right there, boy. Right there. Steady... A little faster... Ooo, good... Harder... Oooo... Oooo... A-huh! Ooooo, here I come, darling! Here I come!" Bobby continued nibbling her clit until she began to regain her composure. "Oh, Bobby, that was VERY good. Come on up and fuck me now, boy!" Bobby lifted his head from her wet pussy and licked his way up to her breasts. As he did, he moved his cock into position and plunged it into her cunt. She was slippery wet and loose and he began to feel her pussy muscles rippling along his shaft. He began to pump and her muscles grasped him tighter. It was a great fuck! "MOTHER! Just what are you doing?" Bobby looked over at the doorway and saw Regina's daughter, Mindy standing there. Part of him wanted to pull out and run, but it felt so damned good and Regina looked up at him and said, "Ignore her. She's jealous I got you first. Just fuck me." And Bobby did. He was soon coming in strong spurts and Regina was heaving her hips up to meet his thrusts. Finished, he rolled off Regina and watched as she grabbed her dress. To his utter amazement, as Regina stepped into her gown, Mindy was stepping out of hers. Regina turned her back to Mindy and Mindy pulled Regina's zipper up. Regina turned to Bobby, kissed him lightly on the lips and said, "Welcome to the club, Bobby. I'll be looking forward to seeing you when you get home for the Summer. Don't make yourself a stranger, understand?" "Sure, Mrs. Stone. And, thanks!" "You're welcome. Now you and Mindy have a good time and I'll see you later." Bobby looked at Mindy. She was standing in her bra, pantyhose and panties, smiling at Bobby. "You must have been good, Bobby. Contrary to popular belief, Mother doesn't invite everyone back. Why don't you get comfortable?" Bobby felt foolish as he realized that he was still dressed in his blazer, shirt, tie, and socks! He quickly stripped them all off and turned to Mindy. She smiled again, "Now, can you show ME how good you are?" Bobby walked toward Mindy. Mindy wasn't the tall beauty that her mother was. She was short and lean, and not nearly as rounded as Regina. Her hair and eyes were brown and her face was long and angular, with a fairly prominent nose and large teeth. As she dropped her bra to the floor, Bobby saw that her breasts were small and low on her chest and were already sagging. When she dropped her pantyhose and panties to the floor, Bobby noticed how thin her thighs were and how bushy her pussy was. ['Oh, well,' he thought, 'she's no beauty, but I'm not about to refuse her and destroy my welcome around here!'] Mindy dropped to her knees and sucked Bobby's sloppy-wet prick into her mouth. Bobby's fingers combed into her hair and held her face tight to his groin as his cock revived itself in her steamy hot mouth. Bobby thought his dick popped out another inch or two when Mindy slid a finger up his ass! Mindy pulled her face away from his prick and looked up at the teenager, "I want you good and hard because I like it up the ass. Have you ever fucked anyone up the ass, Bobby?" Bobby groaned and pulled Mindy up by her armpits. As they kissed passionately, Mindy rubbed her wet pussy slit up against the boy's hard cock. They both fell back onto the bed and Mindy rolled over on to her stomach, "Butt-fuck me, Bobby! Shove it up my ass!Over an hour later, Bobby stumbled back down to the tent. The party had cleared out considerably, and there were only a few clusters of people sitting around some tables. His parents and sister were gone. Regina Stone was sitting at one table, between her husband and her son-in-law. She smiled at Bobby as he turned away from the bar with a beer. He smiled back and made his way over to the table with Scott and a few other neighborhood friends. "Hey, bud, where the fuck have you been?" Scott asked. "Around. Being a good guest, checking out the Christmas decorations." "Yeah, sure." "Truth." Bobby gulped his beer and got another one. He was wiped out. Fucking Regina had been a dream come true, but fucking Mindy had been unbelievable. She was the most outrageous woman he had ever been to bed with, and as far as he could tell, there wasn't a single thing either one of them could think of that she wasn't willing to do, and do enthusiastically. Who would believe that it wasn't sexy, obvious, flamboyant Regina, but her quiet, mousy daughter that could fuck the dead back to life! What a night! Christmas Eve! Amanda had intentionally saved some of her shopping for Christmas Eve. She loved the excitement and the hustle-bustle of that last frantic rush. Bobby slept late and went into couch-potato mode in front of the TV. There were a couple of small bowl games on, and he could always find a movie or two. Robert, Sr., relaxed in front of the fire and reviewed his portfolio as Laurie finished wrapping the last of the presents. After a late lunch, all four of them worked together preparing for an Anderson Christmas tradition. They laid out a buffet, and by eight o'clock, friends, neighbors and relatives were stopping by to share the holiday spirit before everyone went off to Midnight Mass. Christmas Day! Laurie awoke first. She loved those first quiet moments on Christmas morning. Soon, the rest of the family would be awake and opening presents, and all the anticipation would be over. Before they knew it, Christmas would be over. But now, alone with her coffee and the radio softly playing Christmas carols, she sat and looked at the tree and the presents and savored the moment and the mood. "Mom?" It was Amanda on the steps. "Merry Christmas, Dear! Go wake your father and brother." Everyone agreed that Amanda had given the most thoughtful gifts. She gave Bobby two boxed sets of CDs, Eric Clapton and Pink Floyd, that he wanted but had never gotten around to buying. Her father loved the meerschaum pipe she gave him. And Laurie cried when she opened her package and saw the beautiful blue silk blouse that Amanda had picked out to match her mother's eyes. They all wanted to know how she had managed to save enough money to purchase such beautiful gifts. All too soon the storm of wrapping paper subsided. The hugs and kisses and thank-yous were done. The Andersons were dressed and headed out to Church, again. Amanda was singing at the 11 o'clock Mass, and the rest of the family went to hear her. After church, they headed down to the soup kitchen to serve Christmas dinner to the less fortunate and then clean up. It was a busy day. Not a creature was stirring... Everyone had gone to bed early. Amanda lay in bed and thought back over her Christmas. It had been wonderful. She loved all of her gifts and was thrilled that everyone liked the gifts she had gotten them. She was tired, but still a little too keyed up to fall asleep. She got out of bed and put her robe on and went downstairs. The house was quiet, everyone else was asleep. She filled a tall glass with ice and then filled the glass with Irish Cream. There was still a small fire glowing in the fireplace, and the ashes were hot, so Amanda threw another two logs on the fire and curled up on the sofa. Soon, the fire was warming her outsides and her drink was warming her insides, and she began to relax. She finished the Irish Cream and poured another half-glass. She was enjoying the heat and the quiet and the tree lights and the booze. She liked the slight buzz she was feeling, too. She shifted a little on the sofa, and as she did, her nightshirt was pulled taut across her nipple. ['Oooo, THAT felt good!' she thought and then giggled.] As she held the glass in her left hand, she opened her robe and casually brushed the fingers of her right hand over her right nipple. She let out a tiny moan as she felt her nipple wrinkle and harden. ['I can't believe I'm still horny,' she thought, 'but this sure feels good!'] Amanda swallowed the rest of her drink and then placed both hands over her breasts. They were firm and eager to be touched. Her nipples were hard and were getting to that point that she loved -- when she could be a little rough as she squeezed and pinched them. She wanted to come. There was no doubt about that, now. She knew she should go to the privacy of her room, but she didn't want to move. She strained her ears, listening, but the house was quiet except for the flames popping and snapping. It was sexy, and definitely very naughty to be doing it in the family room with everyone home. In front of the fireplace was nice. That warmth would feel nice on her skin. With a quick movement, Amanda stood up, lowered her panties and sat back down on the sofa. She pulled her nightshirt up above her breasts and she was melting in pleasure from the heat of the fireplace and her own hands. It felt so sexy sitting there with her boobs and pussy naked and exposed. She wanted to finger her clit, but she held back. She didn't want to come quickly. She wanted to build up to it slowly, thinking sexy thoughts and teasing her body with her fingers. She thought about yesterday, Christmas Eve, at the mall... Amanda had Bobby drive her to the mall and drop her off. She had told her mother that she was meeting friends there, but she was lying. Her first stop was the CD store. It was packed and the Christmas music was blaring over the speakers. Douglas spotted her as she approached the counter. "Miss, those CDs you ordered came in. Please wait a moment." He called one of the other clerks over to take his place and walked out from behind the counter. He was twenty-six years old and the assistant manager of the store. He was tall, a bit over 6'3" and on the skinny side. He tried to be cool, but he tried even harder to impress his bosses, so he always wore a suit and a tie. As he approached Amanda, he pointed to the backroom door. "Hi, Amanda. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up, today." He liked young girls and used his ability to pass out CDs and cassettes to get on their friendly side every chance he could. "I told you I'd be in, Douglas. The CDs are a present." "Sure. Well, come on in the back." They stepped into the storeroom and Douglas shut the door behind them. There was a table set up with cold cuts and rolls and cookies. On the shelves were bottles of scotch and bourbon and vodka. "Having a little party, back here, Douglas?" "Sure. The boss treated to drinks and food. I can't be away from the front for long, so let's get right to it, Amanda." Amanda grinned at Douglas, "Did anyone ever tell you how romantic you are?" "Cut the crap. Let's do it." He opened his pants and lowered his zipper. He was already hard. Amanda stepped close and curled her fingers around his shaft. "Kiss me, Douglas. I want to be kissed." Douglas had fucked a lot of teenage girls, but none of them had been as beautiful or as accomplished as Amanda Anderson. Since August, he had been giving her CDs and his hard cock on a weekly basis, and she had been giving him the best sex he ever had. They kissed and Douglas's hands found their way to Amanda's breasts. She was wearing a vest over a soft turtleneck top. Under the top was only her tits. Her hard nipples were easy to find and Douglas began pulling at them. "C'mon, Amanda. It's got to be quick, today!" They separated and Douglas sat down on a small desk chair. Amanda lifted her denim miniskirt and lowered her tiny panties and straddled Douglas on the chair. Within seconds, Douglas's dick was buried to the hilt up Amanda's tight little pussy. "C'mon, now, and fuck me, Amanda. Give it to me good!" He smiled as he looked at the girl. She was bouncing up and down on his cock. Her eyes were closed tightly and she was breathing hard through her mouth -- moaning and groaning. The bitch truly loved fucking! As much as he was enjoying it, Douglas felt himself boiling up to blast-off point. And then he was over the top, pulling Amanda down hard on his lap and lifting her by her waist, pumping his cum deep inside her. He was just about finished coming when... "What the fuck is going on here?!" It was the store owner. Peter Abruzzi was thirty-eight, married with four kids, and ran three stores. He was short and bulky, like an old time runningback. He was a tough businessman and a bastard to work for. Douglas pushed Amanda off his lap and she fell to the floor. She landed there with her skirt up to her waist and her pretty legs spread wide open, flashing an open, wet beaver at the intruder. She quickly stood up as Douglas was zipping up. "Ah... Mr. Abruzzi... Ah... I can explain!" "No you can't, Douglas." He hooked his thumb at the door. "Get back out on the floor. Now!" When he was gone, Abruzzi looked at the gorgeous teenager standing in front of him. She had paled considerably in the last minute or so and was obviously scared. "So, tell me..."What were you getting for letting him bone you?" Amanda was going to lie and say "nothing," but she quickly decided that the truth didn't matter. "A boxed set of Eric Clapton CDs." "A boxed set, eh? You that good?" "He says I am." "Is that so? Well, how about this, little girlie? I get to see for myself how good you are?" Amanda didn't say anything, but shook her head. "No? Well, how about I make this clear? You walk with me through that door and we go to Mall Security and call the county cops, or you walk over here and unzip me." Amanda walked over to the owner and knelt. She reached up and pulled his zipper down. She reached inside the opening and found his cock, feeling it growing hard in her hand. "Taste it, bitch." Amanda leaned forward and took his hardness into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the smooth, pink tip and it no longer mattered whose cock it was. She loved the way penises felt. She loved the smoothness and the firmness and how warm they were. Abruzzi was enjoying the blow-job, but he wanted a piece of this young pussy. "Stand up. Walk over to the chair and bend over." Amanda did as she was told and pulled her skirt up to her waist without being told. Abruzzi stepped behind the teenager and began pushing his cock between her pink pussy lips. She was tight and the owner was afraid he was going to cum even before he got it all the way in her! He didn't last much longer than his first deep thrust. The kid matched his rhythm and before he could blink, he was spewing his goo into the little slut's pussy. "Whew! What a fuck! Douglas is right, you are good." Amanda was blushing wildly as she stepped and wiggled into her panties and lowered her skirt. "Can I keep the CDs, mister?" "Huh? Oh, sure. Sure. Here," he said as he reached to a shelf, "take another one, too. You like Pink Floyd?" "Yeah, sure. Thank you." Peter Abruzzi was sitting in the chair, still catching his breath and fixing a drink as Amanda placed the new set into her bag and reached for the doorknob. "Well, thanks again. And... and Merry Christmas." Abruzzi looked up and stared as the beautiful teenager waved and walked out of the store room.She and Amber and Heather had often talked about sex and how to do it. The three of them had agreed that they would never put a penis in their mouths -- not the thing boys pee with! But here she was, eagerly and curiously moving her mouth to do exactly that! She licked it. She sucked it. She kissed it. She made it wet with her saliva. And Ron seemed to be enjoying everything she was doing. Finally, Ron pulled her face away from his penis and she knew what was next. It was the next logical step and she wanted it. She knew at that moment that she loved this beautiful man. Ron reached over to the night table and squeezed something clear out of a tube and spread it over the head of his penis. Then he knelt between Amanda's wide-open legs. "Is this your first time?" Embarrassed, Amanda nodded. "If it hurts, it will only hurt for a second and then it will feel good. Okay? Do you trust me, Amanda?" Again, she nodded. But it didn't hurt. Maybe it was horseback riding, or her gymnastics or the other sports she played, but there was definitely no pain. Amanda knew she was addicted to what they were doing from the second that his penis head spread her pussy lips and plunged into her. She had never felt anything like it! The pleasure of feeling so spread, so filled and all her nerves down there sending pleasure messages to her brain. She knew she never wanted to stop fucking Ron Miller. And fuck him she did. All summer. The day after that first time Amanda went to the clinic and started on the pill. Ron used condoms until it was safe. As soon as the kids were in bed, so were they. Marian would come home for a day or two and they would stop, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Then she would leave and Ron and Amanda would get right back to it. He showed her what he liked and what positions he wanted. He loved fucking doggy-style and having his dick sucked, but he never went down on her. She asked him once, late in the summer, and all he said was that he didn't do that. It didn't really matter all that much to her. When the end of the summer approached, Amanda began to wonder what was going to happen. As unlikely as their situation looked because of their ages, Amanda had told Ron that she loved him and she had shown him she could handle the house -- cooking and cleaning and raising the children. He had to know she wasn't doing it for the lousy five dollars an hour they were paying her. But Marian returned, and Ron didn't say anything to Amanda other than "thanks for your help with the kids." Her heart was broken. But it didn't take long to find out that Ron was not the only man in the world. Weekend parties offered Amanda her choice of boys -- and she exercised that choice. Now, almost naked before the dying fire, Amanda spread her pussy lips with her fingers and with her other hand inserted three fingers into her pussy as she rubbed her clit with her thumb. She was thinking of the date she had had with a boy named Philip. Philip was only visiting for the weekend and he had begged -- actually begged! -- Amanda to let him eat her. It had been her pleasure! Just like now! She was losing control. She was about to come. She knew she was going to scream so she bit a mouthful of her robe and nightshirt. She was coming! Oh, GOD! How she was coming! Her whole body, her whole mind was coming! She was lost to the world. She was going to scream, to faint, to cry. OH, GOD, WHAT A COME! It went on and on and on. It was the come she had wanted. Long and intense and deep. Oh, god! She lay there and spit the cloth from her mouth and replaced it with a silly grin. Oh, that was GOOD! It would be perfect if she could feel a big, fat, hard cock sliding into her wet pussy, deeper and harder than her fingers had been. Oh, she'd love to be getting fucked right now! And she's laying there on the floor, with her nightshirt rolled up to her neck, her legs spread wide. The mantle clock softly chimes midnight. Christmas is over. Amanda hears a quiet noise at the doorway. She looks up. She doesn't move. She smiles. "Hello, big brother..."

Part 4 of 4

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/18227.txt

Chili Peeler

Sordid Conception - Part 5

'Oh, God help me, that was so good,' Brenda thought as they became still. She could feel her womb awash in Brad's seed, and she said a quick silent prayer that she would become pregnant. She'd wanted the actual conception to be memorable, and this certainly would be. "Thank you," she whispered toward Brad's ear. "Have you two...finished?" Brad's mother's voice called. 'I forgot all about her...she heard everything!' Brenda thought, her face becoming red with embarrassment. She gave a push up at Brad to get him moving out and off of her, and she pushed at the inside of his elbow, trying to get him to remove his hand from under her nightshirt. "Yes," she answered Mrs. Larrington's question. Brad pushed himself up off her, going back on his knees as his deflating cock slipped out of her, the covers falling down behind his ass. His eyes dropped down, and Brenda realized he was staring right at her spermy sex. Quickly, she pulled the nightshirt down just as his mother came into sight on his left. "Are you all right?" his mother said kindly. "Yeah..." Brenda answered, "uh...Brad did his job." "I certainly did!" Brad said, not even moving to cover himself. And in front of his own mother! "Brad, get your shorts on and let us be alone, if you don't mind," his mother said, keeping her gaze averted. "All right," he said toward his mother. But before he moved off the bed, he reached down to rub her left knee and said, "I hope that gives you what you want." He said it with such sincerity, Brenda thought, and in the emotional state she was in, she teared up. Brad climbed off the bed without putting on his shorts. He just picked them up off the bed and walked out of the room. "You sure you're O.K.?" his mother asked, sitting beside her to stroke her forehead. "I feel good, Sharon, really I do." "Well, let's get your hips elevated," Sharon said, taking some of the pillows in her hands. In a few moments, they had several pillows and the towel under her. "I know this position feels stupid, but I want you to stay like this for about an hour," Sharon said, again sitting down beside her to rub her arm. Mrs. Larrington had a look on her face like she had at her wedding to Chris. "I'm very proud of you, Brenda...you're doing a good thing for the family." "Sharon, I hope I didn't embarrass you before..." Brenda started, then trailed off. "No, why would you think that?" "I didn't maintain much control before...I was too verbal, wasn't I?" Sharon laughed softly. "Brenda, I've had two kids. When you make a baby, it's always like that. We talked about that before. Now, I want you to just relax and think good thoughts until I come back. Who knows, something could be happening in you right now." Sharon leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then, she stood and headed to leave the bedroom. "I'll be back in a bit," she promised as she closed the door behind her. Brenda closed her eyes and daydreamed about the baby...and Brad. 'Brad's going to be impossible to live with,' Sharon predicted as she walked down to his bedroom. 'He'll be cockier than ever after his performance with Brenda.' Sharon smiled. That wasn't so bad for her. She opened the door to his room but found it empty. She walked back to the staircase and went downstairs. She found her son in the kitchen making a tuna salad sandwich. He gave her a shit-eating grin when she walked into the room. "That Brenda is hot-to-trot," he said excitedly. "Man, I had her going!" "Brad, keep your voice down," she said. He didn't realize how loud he was and in a still house... "Come on, loosen up, Mom," he said quieter. "Did you hear her? She came twice!" Sharon felt herself getting mad and she didn't know why. Then, she realized she was jealous. That was a stupid thing to be - Brad would still be hers after all this was through. But it still sort of stung. "Of course, I heard her. I was sitting right there," she said as she leaned back against the counter. "So?...did you like listening to us?" Brad said with a wink as he closed up the bread bag. "What do you think?" she said evasively. She was reluctant to tell him how turned on she had become listening to Brenda's moans and the squeaking bed. "I think you liked it, Mom," he said, walking up to her. He was three inches taller than she, so she tilted her head back slightly to keep looking at his eyes. They were full of mischief, even after the energetic sex he'd just had upstairs. "I bet it got you all hot too." He grabbed her breasts through her blouse, and she had to stop him with a swipe of her hand. "Brad, you know better. Not where someone could see." One of her greatest fears was that someone from a neighboring house would spot her and her son doing something illicit. The chances were slim because the homes in their neighborhood up sat on two and a half acre lots. But it was too chancey. "Besides, Brenda is upstairs." "She's up on the blocks, right?" He was referring to the elevated hips. "Yes, but..." "Then we don't have to worry about her," he said, and he pinned her against the counter with his body. "Brad, stop it!" "Sssshh...I just want to check you out," he said with a chuckle, his right hand going to her bare leg below the hem of her skirt. He began to slide it upward onto her thigh, his wrist pulling the front of her skirt up with it. She didn't make another move to stop him. He was still high from doing Brenda, and she had no way to get loose, if she wanted to. She put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he pressed his fingers into the thin cotton panties covering her sex. "I feel a little wetness here," Brad said with a leering smile. She kept quiet as he looped his fingers in the bottom of her panties but drew in a sharp breath as he wormed a finger into her pussy. "Nice and slick, Mom...did you finger yourself while you watched us?" "No...but I wanted to." She didn't feel terribly embarrassed to tell him that now. She couldn't deny what he was feeling with his finger. Brad leaned away from her, pulling his finger from her forbidden furrow. He took her by the hand and started to pull her across the kitchen. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Come on...come back here." He walked her through the back entrance hall that contained her washer and dryer and into the back bathroom, closing the door behind them. Immediately to his left was the bathtub which had a window over it. He stepped into it with one foot and pulled down the sash which would stop anyone from looking in. "Brad, why don't we wait, honey?" she said as he moved toward her. "Once Brenda is gone, we'll have the rest of the day." "Let me take care of you," he said, pulling her skirt up. "You're the only one that hasn't gotten off yet in this crazy house." He steered her back against the wall beside the toilet. She grasped the hem of her raised skirt and held it up as he hooked his fingers in the top of her panties. He went to his knees on the shag toilet rug, pulling her panties down to mid-thigh as he went down. He slid her panties down to her ankles, his eyes staring at her pussy. 'This is not a good idea with Brenda in the house...but...' Sharon told herself, but she put aside reason and wantonly untangled her left low-heeled shoe from her panties and propped her foot up on the toilet lid, giving her hunky son the open thighs he wanted. Brad scooted closer, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs to hold her ass as he buried his face against her damp sex mound. She sucked in an excited breath as her son began to suck on her pussy. She started to moan as Brad worked her furry slit with his tongue and lips. 'Brenda can't hear us...she's way upstairs,' Sharon told herself, letting natural moans escape her lips. 'I'm going to cum soon...all over my son's tongue...and then I'll go back upstairs...and no one will know!' "MMMMMMmmmmmMMMMM.......MMMMMmmmOOOOOHH...AAH.... ooohhhh....mmmMMMMMM....uuuuuhhhhh....OOOOOOHH!The small bathroom filled with her unrestrained encouraging groans as she began to grind her cunt on her son's face, his hands pulling her feminine furrow tight on his knowing mouth. She pulled the top of her skirt tight against her stomach and looked down at the fleshy folds of her mons as they rubbed on Brad's mouth and nose. His eyes were open, looking up at her, egging her on. She felt his tongue press into the oily hole of her pussy, felt him breathing like an enraged bull right up her cunt! "OHBRAD!" she cried, much louder than she wanted, as she closed her eyes and grabbed handfuls of her son's long hair. Her skirt, forgotten, dropped down to cover his head. She began to really fuck herself on Brad's face, rolling her hips crazily, feeling his nose raking back and forth on her clit. "MMMMMMHHHHHMMM....OOOOHHHHHHHEEEWWWWW!" she moaned loudly as her pussy exploded in release. She felt Brad sucking and sucking, felt him pushing her back against the wall as her shoe slipped off the toilet seat and she threatened to keel over on him. Her thighs shivered as Brad tongued her beautifully down through the pent-up passion that his episode with Brenda had created. A minute later, she raised her skirt back up and watched as Brad kissed her matted pubes. "That ought to hold you over for a while," he said with a smile. Brenda opened her eyes as the bedroom door opened. Sharon walked in, smiling as she usually was. "How are we doing?" Sharon said, walking around the bed. "Just fine." "I think you can get up now. Would you like to take a shower?" "No, I'll take one at home," Brenda said, swinging her feet onto the floor as she sat up. "I think I'll just go and relax until Chris gets home tonight." "And then....." Sharon said as she helped Brenda stand. They had talked about what she should do later. "And then, I'll make love to Chris. And we'll make a baby." Both knew that any baby would be Brad's, but there would always be the possibility that it would be her husband's. And that would be something to hold onto in the years ahead. "That's my girl," Sharon said, giving her a hug. "Now, go and get dressed, and I'll see you downstairs." Sharon headed back downstairs, and Brenda wondered what had put the light gait in her mother-in-law's step. She marked it up to the thought of having a grandchild to spoil. Brenda turned and went into the bathroom to put her clothes back on. Brad gave his mother's ass a quick feel as she walked by the kitchen table. She slapped his hand away and gave him a nasty look as the sound of feet descending the stairs announced the imminent appearance of Brenda in the kitchen. 'She won't be slapping my hand once she ushers Brenda out,' Brad thought to himself. He'd given her a good orgasm with his mouth, but he knew he would be able to convince her into a more fulfilling fucking. His dick was hard just thinking about slipping his meat to his mother all afternoon. Brenda stepped into the kitchen, dressed again in the clothes she had arrived in. He saw the way Brenda looked at him - there was something in that look. He'd definitely won her over! She was looking at him like a love-sick puppy. "Brenda, you look absolutely radiant," his mother said, laying it on thick, he thought. Brenda didn't look all that different from when she came, except maybe her hair, which was sort of mussed up. "I feel good," Brenda said. "Let's keep our fingers crossed, huh?" "We certainly will. You've got everything? Okay then...I'll walk you out," his mother began to take Brenda toward the front door. "Thanks, Brad," Brenda said over her shoulder. "My pleasure," he replied, rising to his feet to follow them. His mother kept up a constant stream of good thoughts and suggestions on how Brenda should spend the rest of her day as she walked Brenda to her car. Brenda got behind the wheel, started the car and, after a motherly peck on the cheek from his mother, she backed out of the driveway as his mother came up the stairs to join him on the porch. "Bye, dear!" his mother called as Brenda put the car in Drive and started down the road. "Bye, Brenda....thanks for the fuck!" he said only loud enough for his mother to hear. She gave him a wry smile. "Brad, why don't you thank me as well? I'm the one that arranged the whole thing," she said as she went by him, heading back inside. "Hell, Mom, I plan to thank you all day long," he boasted as he closed the front door behind them and wrapped his arms around her from the back. "Brad! Not out here," she whined as he pushed his boner into the small of her back. "Come on, Mom. You liked it in the bathroom. Let's christen the living room." He wanted to get wild after being with Brenda and doing his mother on the family couch sounded like a hot time. She was definitely paranoid about doing anything sexual downstairs, but this was probably going to be his best chance. She wanted it as much as he. Keeping his left arm wrapped around her waist, he dove his right hand up under her skirt. "No one can see in the windows. The house is darker than the outside. Someone would have to be on the front porch to have any chance of seeing us. And we'd see any car that pulled up." "Ooohhhh, Braaaddd!" his mother said with a shudder as his fingers teased her unpantied cunt. She hadn't put her panties back on after the bathroom cunnilingus session. "No, let's go upstairs, baby!" "No! We're going to do it right here on the couch," he said, walking them both toward the sofa. "Come on, do it with me here and I'll do whatever you want the rest of the day." 'That got her!' he thought. She seemed to relax, stopped resisting him. They were in front of the couch, and she began to spin in his arm. He let her turn around until she was facing him, her pretty face upturned to his. Her smile told him he had won. "Anything I want?" she said, her hand finding the bulge in his shorts. "Yeah, whatever you want. I'll do it." He wondered what she had in mind, but whatever it was, he was sure to enjoy it too. He moved past her, pulled down his shorts and underwear, and sat down on the couch. His stiff cock wagged drunkenly above his belly, beckoning his mother. "Suck me awhile and I'll watch for anyone pulling in the driveway. And then you can sit on it backwards and keep a lookout while we fuck." His mother looked out the front window, then back to him. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" she said, unzipping the back of her skirt. With a little shake of her hips, the skirt pooled around her ankles. She made no move to take off her blouse, which was just long enough to hide her pussy from his view. "I'm only doing this to make you my slave for the rest of the day. Don't think we're going to be doing this all the time down here." He opened his knees wider as his mother stepped out of her skirt and dropped to her knees between his legs. "SHIT!" Brenda yelled at the steering wheel of her coasting car. She couldn't believe that she hadn't checked the gasoline meter when she got in the car that morning. Now here it was, pegged on EMPTY, and she turned her car off the road far enough to not obstruct other drivers. 'Okay, just relax,' she thought as she turned the dead car off. 'Don't let this ruin a memorable day.' The nearest gas station was near the freeway. She thought it was at least a mile away. There were several houses nearby she could go to and use a phone. But it was only about a quarter mile back to Sharon's house. She decided to walk back and ask Sharon for a ride to the gas station or maybe borrow some gas that Brad might have for his cycle. She stuffed her bag out of sight under the passenger seat, got out, locked the car and started walking back to her mother-in-law's home. "They'll be surprised to see me again," she muttered. "Mmmmmm....nice and slow...uuhh," Brad grunted as his horny mother slowly swallowed all the prick she could, her lips sliding more than halfway down his shaft as he watched through half-closed eyes. She wasn't just blowing him - she was making love to his cock. She'd used her tongue on his cockhead for almost five minutes, swabbing his puffy glans with butterfly licks or twirling her spitty tongue around his head like she was trying to keep an ice cream cone from dripping. Now she was using her whole mouth, nursing on his manhood with her eyes closed, her right hand lightly holding his shaft near the base, her left hand hefting his scrotum lovingly. 'Damn, she can suck cock!' he thought as she drew her lips up until just the very tip of his head was still inside her mouth, then she began a slow nibbling, her teeth lightly scraping down his sensitive head tissue until she'd reclaimed the whole fat knob. It was as she began to swallow him a second time that Brad noticed Brenda walking up the driveway! He froze for a second or two in surprise. She was walking, she hadn't driven up to the house. They both would have heard her car. He was going to pull his mother off him and warn her to grab her skirt and run but......then his mind worked very quickly. He was going to warn his mother so their secret would remain intact. But they already had a secret on Brenda. Brenda wouldn't tell on them - couldn't tell on them! And his mother had said a number of times that she wished she could tell someone about their secret love. And Brenda....well, she was a wild girl. She'd let another guy fuck her to get pregnant, her husband's brother no less! And Chris had told him that Brenda had been a loose girl before they got married. How would she take the sight of her mother-in-law doing the nasty with her son? 'One way to find out,' he thought, placing his hands gently on top of his mother's head, watching Brenda come up the stairs to the porch. 'That's it, Brenda. Look in the window!....just look in.Outside, Brenda came right up the steps and walked right by the window without looking in. She was heading for the door now, and Brad began to silently will her to just walk right in. "Don't use the doorbell!...Come on, Brenda...you're one of the family. Just walk in!" The outside storm door opened, and Brad knew it was going to happen - Brenda was going to walk in! The opening of the outside door had not been silent. His mother started to pull her mouth up his cock quickly. He wasn't sure if it was because she sensed something or she was just going to shift into a quicker sucking. He pushed down on the back of his mother's head, holding her mouth around him as the doorknob turned on the inside door. His mother definitely knew they were not alone as the front door opened. The sound of the door latch popping open, the clanging of the mini-blinds against the door glass, the immediate increase in the volume of the birds chirping outside. The door was opened, and Brenda was coming through it. His mother was raising up her body, but she couldn't go anywhere with him holding her head. Brenda saw them, her mouth dropped open, and he let go of his mother's head. "Brenda!" he said loudly, acting totally surprised. Brenda stood there, agape, as she watched Sharon scramble off her knees, her hand grabbing her skirt off the floor as she spun toward the doorway. Brad remained still on the couch after shouting her name. He was naked. His erection...his glistening erection...stood proudly upward. "Brenda?!" Sharon said, her eyes round as saucers. "Calm down, Mom. Brenda's not going to tell," Brad said, standing up slowly. He didn't make any move to cover himself, and Brenda would have enjoyed looking at his naked, buffed body had she not been so shaken up by what she had witnessed. "Brenda, close the door and have a seat. We got to have a talk." Brenda used her hand to push the door shut and watched as Brad sat his mother down on the couch. Sharon looked very white. "Mom, everything is cool," Brad reassured her as he finally grabbed his shorts and pulled them on. He motioned her to sit on the other end of the couch, and she went around the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. "Brenda's not going to tell anyone. Not after this morning...think about it." Brenda realized that Brad was right. How could she tell anyone after letting Brad fuck her? "Sharon, I swear I won't tell," she promised. "I ran out of gas..." Sharon had a hand over her eyes but she spoke at last. "You must think I'm terrible," she said weakly. "No, I don't, Sharon...I don't even know what led up to this," she said, fishing for an explanation. "Let's tell her, Mom," Brad said, standing on the far side of the coffee table with his hands on his hips. "You've always wanted to tell someone about us. I think Brenda's going to be real sympathetic." Brad actually winked at her! "I think we ought to get everything out in the open. None of us are ever going to be able to tell any of this to anyone else, so why pretend about what's going on? Brenda, me and Mom have been having sex for, I guess, a year and a half now. I came on to her first...she's the best looking mother around, I don't think anyone can argue that. The thought of doing her sort of obsessed me back then...and it's better than I could even have imagined...fucking her, I mean." Brenda looked at Sharon, who was sitting just down the couch from her. Sharon looked at her and then back to her son as he went on. "Mom has been keeping a real tight leash on things up until now. She'd only let me fuck her once or twice a week. But then she got the idea of letting me try to make the baby with you. Ever since then, she's been wanting me all the time...this baby stuff excites her." "Brad, do you have to get so..." Sharon said, her voice sounding exasperated. "Sharon, it's O.K.," she said. "Brad's right. Why should we keep any secrets?" She decided to tell a secret of her own. "Let me tell you both, right here and now, that I agreed to this insemination plan at first because I wanted a child. And I still do. But when we were upstairs...well, I'm getting ahead of myself. It's obvious to me that I had some feelings for Brad that even I wasn't aware of because I had these wild sexual dreams about Brad all last week...I mean really wild. So, I didn't come here with the good intentions that you might have thought...I came to have sex...for more than just procreation." "Yeah, you were hot for it, all right!" Brad said, stepping over the coffee table and sitting down on it, facing both of them. "I told Mom about how you got off when I stuck it in." Brad's exuberance for the subject was pretty stimulating to Brenda. She never would have thought that she would admit something as personal as that in front of Sharon, but she did. "That's true...I couldn't stop myself. I thought I would, and that's why I told you I was worried about it, Sharon." "Brad has that effect on me, too," Sharon said, beginning to open up. "I suppose I should spill my guts too since everyone else is being so open...I know what Brad and I do is not right in the eyes of the world...but we both love it. Him because his hormones are going crazy and me because he makes me feel younger, I guess." "Come on, Mom...the truth now," Brad said, moving his hand onto one of her knees. "Tell Brenda you like fucking me because I'm your boy." "I think she knows that that is a part of it," Sharon said, putting her hand over his. "Brad's not telling the truth, not the whole truth. He did make a pass at me, but...I acted on it after first refusing him. And...I've never regretted it." Sharon was getting herself together. "We both know it's wrong, but it feels so right...that must sound crazy." 'Wow, this is getting really interesting!' Brenda thought. This whole thing was mushrooming into a chance to take off the gloves and do the things she wanted to with Brad. What could Sharon say about that now? She could fuck Brad all she wanted now that she knew their secret. "It must be something special...it's too wild to think about!" Brenda said, unable to stop it from coming out. Sharon was getting all the cock she wanted from her own son! 'I can't believe how well Brenda is taking all this,' Sharon thought, watching her daughter-in-law acting excited about the taboo relationship she had learned about. 'And I never would have thought she wanted Brad like I do...as a lover.' When she'd been caught sucking her son's cock, she'd felt like her whole world had shattered. But Brad had pointed out the one thing that was their saving grace - Brenda couldn't tell anyone even if she'd wanted to. And Brenda hadn't run out of the place screaming bloody murder; in fact, she'd acted more curious than anything. Brad's hand began to stroke around in a circle under her own, moving slowly up onto her thigh. She looked at him and could see he was enjoying this whole thing! Then he dropped the bomb. "See, Mom? Brenda's a kindred spirit," Brad said, kneading her leg with his fingers. "How about we all go upstairs?" 'God, what is Brad proposing?!' Sharon thought as she looked at him. She felt pretty good about the way Brenda had taken learning about the secret that she had kept for so long, but certainly Brad didn't think that Brenda would... "I might be up for that," Brenda said, and Sharon whipped her head to look at her daughter-in-law. Brenda was looking at Brad, smiling. "But only if we all agree." "Wait a minute..." she started to say. "Come on, Mom. Let's all go upstairs. I think Brenda would like to watch us make love. Maybe as much as you liked to be in the room when we fucked earlier." "Is that true, Sharon?" Brenda asked, her voice sounding huskier. "Is that why you stayed?" Sharon looked back at Brenda. She couldn't deny what she had felt, sitting in that chair, listening to their lovemaking. "I found it exciting...I did." "Could you do it with Brad...with me in the room?" Brenda asked. Brenda's eyes looked deep into hers. The whole dynamic of the situation was changing, like being swept up in a stream that she was powerless to stop. And she wasn't sure she wanted to stop it! She'd wanted to be able to tell someone - now she had the opportunity to show someone and to watch Brad with Brenda. Everything revolved around her answer... "I could try," she said simply, opening the floodgates. "Let's go upstairs!" Brad said excitedly. Sharon let Brad lead her upstairs...with Brenda right behind them.

Part 5

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/11130.txt

Zawackyj Zabum

The Tickleopps Tourist Attraction

'Do you really organize tours like that?' Briget Marlow asked, unable to believe the story of the bizarre tours she was being told about by Mark, a fellow travel agent she met earlier in the day at the conference they were both attending. 'Don't you believe me?' Mark grinned at her. 'I don't know...' Briget smiled uncomfortably, unsure of whether he was playing a teasing mind game with her or not. It was difficult to tell, but Briget was intrigued by the thought implanted in her mind by the weird story Mark told her. And after all, who was she to disagree? Just because "tours for perverts" wasn't ever discussed in the travel agent's course she'd recently graduated from, didn't mean they didn't exist. She absently toyed with the blue plastic swizzle stick in her glass, using it to chase an ice cube around the bottom of the empty glass. 'You can come up to my room and see the tools of my trade, if you like...' Mark said, casually sipping his drink and watching discreetly for her reaction. He had a good feeling about her. It wasn't just that she was attractive - that was something which had virtually become a prerequisite for employment in the competitive world of travel. No, it was something deeper than that. Mark Grayson had only just met Briget that day and yet he felt as if he'd known her for ages. She gave off a certain vibe to him, like discreet signals that he sometimes felt only he could read. They probably weren't intentional on Briget's part. In fact, he'd have been not nearly as taken with her if they were deliberate. He found no joy in brazenly provocative girls, the ones with short skirts and high opinions of themselves who paraded around full of self-confidence almost daring men to approach them. They invariably turned out being exactly like the personas they projected, and he hated that. He liked mystery. And secrecy. Any girl who brazenly leads men on, particularly where sex is the goal, only does so because she's too unimaginative to get it any other way. That's what he thought, at least. It had been twenty years since he was in high school, but he still vividly remembered the first time he started to understand himself and what it was he found desirable in the opposite sex. There was a girl in his senior class - Anna - who nobody seemed interested in. He couldn't understand why, although she was clearly not like other girls in his class. She wasn't ugly or anything, though she made it difficult to tell sometimes with the dowdy choice of clothes she wore. And she wasn't dumb. Quite the opposite, in fact, and yet, this didn't make her a part of the nerdy group. She didn't seem to fit in at all and just kept to herself all the time. In some ways, Mark thought this intimidated guys more than anything. It intimidated him at the time mostly because he really wanted to get to know her but didn't know how to get past the layer of quite shyness which seemed to cloak her. None of the other guys knew what to make of her either, so they ignored her and spent all their school days chasing after the cheerleaders, who invariably led everybody on until that crucial moment when they'd get all prissy and spurn whoever it was who'd been chasing them, leaving the poor bastards with blue balls and their tongues hanging out. Mark quickly tired of this kind of humiliation. Begging just wasn't in his character - not even as a teenager. Briget reminded Mark of Anna, although she was quite a bit more stylish. He had a thing about grooming and women who took a bit of care in their appearance, and Briget was as pretty as a porcelain doll with silky blonde hair neatly framing her roundish, soft face and a blush of pale rouge that was almost indiscernible from her natural, blemish-free skin. All of this merely enhanced her most alluring feature - the bluest of eyes that sparkled, not just with a vibrancy caught in the yellowish light of the hotel bar, but with the honesty of a young person to whom everything in life seemed new and exciting. It was this sign that Mark valued most highly. It was a look that few women have, particularly those like Briget, who Mark guessed to be in her late twenties. The look of innocence was usually lost in the teenage years or soon after, so anybody older than that who still has it simply had to be extraordinary. They're like gems that, in their raw state, seem lackluster and without value. But all it takes is a little work. A bit of chipping away at the protective shell, some rubbing in the right places, and that arcane wisdom which only experience can instill certain people to make a craftsman like Mark. Briget, perhaps because her senses were slightly dulled from the drinks she'd been having in the hotel bar with Mark, considered his invitation back to his room. There was no denying he was propositioning her - he couldn't have been more direct, even if it was almost comical in the way it had been made. She smiled inwardly at the funny memories of ridiculous shows on television where the man offers a girl the hackneyed line "come up to my room and see my etchings". She never thought of herself as being fully capable to deal with any proposition, particularly if there was a risk of intimate relations. However, nobody had ever used the "come up to my room" line on Briget and she felt, maybe because it just sounded so funny, that it might be okay to agree. Surely nobody ever used that line seriously, she thought to herself. It only took a moment's contemplation before Briget agreed to accompany him to his room, though by doing so, a nagging voice in her conscience suddenly spoke to warn her of the possible dangers. It was a familiar voice, one she usually obeyed, but this time she made a conscious decision to ignore it and put it out of her mind. By the time she arrived at his room, her thoughts of caution had evaporated and were replaced with a faint tingle in the pit of her stomach of eagerness to submit to his charm, should things go in that way. Predictions of this nature weren't something Briget was very good at. But she had to at least assume that might happen and, without dwelling on the thought at that time, there seemed a twinge of feeble, indefinable hope. Mark casually invited Briget into his hotel room and gently closed the door. This was always the most difficult moment of any new encounter - locking the door. He was conscious of the fact most girls, if not all, innately understand the significance of this subtle action. He was aware girls generally reacted one of two ways. Either they'd suddenly begin questioning his motives, to which he'd usually find himself passing it off with some joke knowing that he'd be disappointed and unfulfilled by the end of the evening, even if the girl didn't walk out on him, or she'd accept it without discussion. Whether or not a girl understands the symbolic nature of locking the door, to remain silent at this juncture is to tacitly say "I am your prisoner". It's never something openly stated because this kind of girl is the kind Mark knew and loved. Too timid and polite to object.He discreetly watched Briget for her reaction, which was one of almost visible trepidation, but she was silent as he'd hoped. In fact, she smiled so sweetly, nervously, almost naively as if to tell him she'd never done anything like this, that Mark had to believe she would be even more delightfully submissive than he could have dreamed. 'You've got a lovely big room here,' Briget said, mentally noting and comparing it with the cheaper, smaller room paid for by the travel agency that employed her. 'There's more...' Mark said, waving his hand towards the door next to the mini bar. 'It's a double room...there's another through there.' 'Really?' Briget replied, genuinely curious. 'Are you staying with someone else?' 'No, of course not, Briget...I'm the boss!' Mark laughed heartily, not just to make Briget feel at ease but because he loved the innocent way in which she asked. It was obvious to him why she asked. She wanted to know whether or not they'd be disturbed. He laughed quietly again to himself. 'You mean...you're paying for all of this room for yourself?' Briget asked, watching as Mark leaned over and tapped some keys on the computer he had set up on the coffee table. The hushed sound of a dial tone and then the familiar squeal of an internet connection filled the quiet room. 'Yes...that's right. I told you downstairs...my business is very successful,' Mark said. He was distracted for a moment as he flipped through the screens of email messages he'd received. Briget quietly moved around the room behind him, taking the opportunity to glance out the window at the sub-tropical tranquility down below. She felt the voice of her conscience buzzing in her ears again as she thought back to their earlier conversation in the bar. The question formed in her mind but she was reluctant to ask it. 'You weren't joking about those tours?' Mark stopped what he was doing and looked back over his shoulder at Briget. 'No...' he smiled warmly. 'What made you think I was joking?' 'I don't know...' Briget mumbled, shrugging her shoulders and feeling a little foolish for asking. 'Are you saying you really do organize those tours you told me about?' 'Yes. Does that bother you?' Mark asked, casually returning to his computer task. There was a long silence. 'I guess not,' Briget said, trying to sound confident in her answer. 'It's very lucrative...here...come and see for yourself...' Mark said, pulling a chair close to the coffee table and inviting Briget to sit at the screen. Briget smiled as best she could, uncertain that she wanted to know any more at all about Mark's strange business, but she quietly demurred and sat for him. 'What are these?' she asked, squinting slightly as she looked at the screen. 'These are messages sent by my clients...click on the folder labeled "Fantasies"...' he said, standing back slightly so he could observe her reactions without her seeing. Briget nervously placed her hand on the mouse and directed the arrow to the small yellow icon, clicking it gently and watching as the screen filled with about a dozen subfolders. Each was simply numbered with a short code, making Briget feel a little unsettled with cautious interest. 'Let me tell you something before you go any further, Briget...these are my clients...my valued customers...what you are about to see is strictly confidential...do you understand?' Briget felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach, twisting uncomfortably as if to warn her she shouldn't go any further. But her curiosity had been aroused and she felt compelled to continue, sensing that the mystery details contained in the folders might shock her but anxiously wanting to explore further. She mumbled her agreement to maintain discretion and felt for a moment like an athlete waiting for the starter's signal to open the first folder. 'This is Mr Dawson's idea of a great holiday, Briget...' Mark said, knowing in advance what she was about to read. He waited silently as she slowly read through the short list on the screen. Briget read the first line quickly but suddenly stopped before she got to the end of it. She wasn't at all prepared for what she read and had to re-read it to make sure it said what she thought it said. 'Eeew!' she gasped, feeling awkward about the weird image that flashed to mind. 'What's the matter? Does Mr Dawson's fantasy disturb you, Briget?' Mark smirked after first mocking her reaction in a childish voice. 'Do people really do that?' Briget asked, her voice filled with incredulous doubt. 'What? A grown man wanting to dress up as a schoolboy and have his backside thrashed by a big, angry woman? What's wrong with that?' Mark laughed loudly, cajoling Briget to see the funny side of it. 'I don't know...' Briget said after a minute. Mark was obviously exaggerating about what the strange man had written - he only said that he wanted to be spanked by a woman, not thrashed, but Mark had made it sound even more ridiculous. She took a deep breath and made an effort to sound more worldly than she really was. 'I suppose there's nothing wrong with that...what people do for...you know...' she couldn't bring herself to say 'pleasure'. She pointed the arrow to the next folder and clicked. 'Ah! Mr Fujuma!' Mark said, his voice now alive with a playful humor. Briget burst out giggling as she read his message. 'He says...' she put her hand to her mouth and tried to hold back an uncontrollable laugh. 'He says...I love to wear a diaper under my clothes when I go out. I want you to find me a woman who will dress me like a baby and watch while I pee my pants...' Briget shrieked with laughter, her eyes filling with tears while she gasped for breath. Mark laughed with her, feeling pleased with her reaction so far. He knew by the way she was laughing that she would be intrigued by the next client and, without rushing her, he urged her to go to the next folder. He didn't say anything as she opened it and began reading. Briget was still having little fits of giggles from reading about the fruity Mr Fujuma but, as he expected, these quickly subsided as the content of the next message sank in. 'Well...what do you think?' Mark eventually asked, waiting while Briget read the message for a second time. 'Mmmm...' was all Briget could say. She was dumbstruck, not just by what she read, but by the unexpected shiver that made her skin prickle with goosebumps. 'He's prepared to pay a good deal of money to find what he's looking for...' Mark wasn't sure the money aspect would appeal to Briget, but he was relieved that she meekly asked the fee he charged for his service and so he told her. 'That much?' Briget said, sounding unsure of whether the amount was good or bad. It actually didn't interest her. What did interest her was the peculiar request he'd made. She glanced again at his name, Jeremy, at the bottom of the short message and then scanned back up quickly to look again at the line which had really caught her interest. He said he wanted Mark to "find him a new girl to play with..." 'Are you interested?' Mark asked. Briget wasn't ready to know what to say. She was still engrossed in a tantalizing daydream which suddenly sprang to mind after she read what Jeremy had gone on to say - "I want to spend a weekend with this girl exploring every part of her..." 'It doesn't sound too strange to me...' Mark whispered. Briget wasn't wanting to hear that just at the moment. As far as she was concerned, it was strange and thoroughly bizarre, especially the next part - "I want somebody who is NOT willing to have the most intimate recesses of her sensuality investigated...someone tied up and helpless while I give them the TICKLEOPPS treatment to reveal their most hidden desires..." There was no doubt in Briget's mind that this weirdo wanted to torture somebody by tickling them, a concept that was too freakish to believe, but one which made her head reel with a totally new and astonishing thrill. Briget had never given much thought to things such as bondage, mostly because she tried to keep such thoughts out of her mind. She now felt confused. As far as she had known, bondage was only ever spoken about in either joking terms, like it was some weird abnormal fetish of harmless weirdos or, more disturbingly, in conjunction with a serious crime like rape. Both uses it seemed alarmed a sense of guilt in Briget. The thought of being considered a weirdo was not a pleasant one and being bound and made vulnerable and helpless was, on the one hand, highly arousing for unknown reasons but also frightening when she considered the dangerous possibility of being hurt or even killed by some wild lunatic. But Jeremy didn't seem to be a lunatic, at least, not in a violent kind of way. After all, how could tickling somebody be dangerous? 'Come on Briget...it'll be fun!' Mark said, throwing caution to the wind and gently taking hold of Briget's wrist to help her to her feet. 'What?' Briget was suddenly paralyzed with dread. It was immediately obvious what Mark was suggesting, though she couldn't think straight to voice a proper objection. Instead, she allowed him to lead her, unwilling as she was, across to the door connecting the neighboring room. 'You can't mean me...' she was mumbling as he pushed her, gently but firmly through the door. 'Come along Briget...you know you want to...' Mark smiled kindly at her as if to reassure her there was nothing wrong with him slipping her white cotton blazer off her shoulders. 'No...I don't...really...' Briget's voice trembled, her attention caught by the sight of bondage paraphernalia lying on the large bed in the center of the room. She struggled, twisting her wrists which he gripped securely in his hands, but didn't resist enough to prevent him removing her blazer completely. 'Yes you do...' Mark laughed happily, realizing that her reluctance was more show than real. 'No...I don't...'Briget,' said Mark as he released his grip on her wrists and quickly unbuckled the broad leather belt of her modest skirt. 'I don't...' Briget whispered, almost breathlessly, as Mark pulled her toe-to-toe and pressed his face into the side of her neck. His warm breath and gentle nibbling made her shiver, and she instantly swooned, lolling her head back while he lightly kissed her beneath the ear. 'Yes you do, Briget...' he said, briefly lashing her ear with his tongue. He could feel her melting, her hands no longer pushing away his, which were blindly unhitching her skirt. It fell silently to the floor around her ankles, the heavy belt buckle tinkling quietly as it dropped on the carpet. 'I don't...' Briget sighed, her eyes closed and body trembling apprehensively as Mark's fingers groped for the small pearly buttons of her blouse. He was being very hasty in his undressing of her, yet this seemed to make it feel more sensuous than she could have imagined. In fact, Briget sensed that if she was given the opportunity to think, she'd break free from him and run from the room, and so she found herself secretly willing him to be quicker, compliantly shedding her blouse when prompted by Mark's peeling it open. Mark knew he had her once he caught sight of her breasts, neatly cupped in the filigree scallops of lace holding them. The shadowy dark circles of her nipples were already displaying signs of arousal, with the small buds pointed tensely in the fabric. He hooked his fingers into the elastic between her breasts and led her closer to the bed, pulling it just roughly enough to tacitly convince Briget of where he wanted her to be. Briget was already blushing when Mark deftly snapped open her bra, the single hasp between her breasts popping open with hardly any encouragement from him. The sudden freedom of the fleshy mounds caused them to jiggle momentarily, alerting her to the fact she was almost completely nude. Briget relaxed slightly as Mark nudged her, gently pushing her so she flopped face first down on the cool, soft bed. There was almost a reflex action from her as she felt his fingers hooking into the flimsy elastic of her plain lace undies. Without any prompting, she pressed her elbows into the mattress and discreetly raised her hips, her face burying into the sweet-smelling pillow to conceal her nervous embarrassment as her body was stripped bare of the last remnant of her clothing. If it had been difficult for Briget to submit to the removal of her clothes, it was even harder to permit Mark to manacle her wrists with the broad leather cuffs he wrapped around each of them. It wasn't so much that she didn't want him to - she did, albeit with some reservations. But he was mercifully quick, buckling each wrist before turning his attention to her ankles. Briget felt light-headed as each of her ankles was wrapped snugly with leather cuffs. She bent her arms defensively up under her body, defensively because he was about to steal her freedom and she was willingly submitting. The way his hands grabbed her ankles, manipulating the shoes off her feet, thrilled her and made her acutely aware that she was now completely naked. In a moment, he was back beside her head, leaning over and gently prizing her manacled wrists free from under her body so they could be attached with attractively small padlocks to the ends of a long wooden bar. Briget watched silently as Mark tugged the bar close to the bedhead, lifting the loose end of a short rope from behind it to secure the bar and Briget's outstretched arms above her head. 'You see,' Mark said. 'I told you you wanted this!' Briget just blushed and sheepishly mumbled her agreement. 'Yes...but not from some stranger...' 'Don't worry Briget...you won't know who's in here with you...or care...' Mark chuckled to himself as he slipped a sleeping mask over her head. 'What are you doing?' Briget felt a rush of panic as everything went black behind the mask. She arched her back, immediately struggling to turn her head to try and discern what he was doing. 'Yes...' Mark said thoughtfully. 'Very nice...it's even got the nice little emblem of the airline company on it...they gave us those in a sample bag when we arrived at the conference...I wonder why they did that?' Briget didn't laugh at his perverse joke. Instead, she fought desperately against the manacles around her wrists, feeling more and more helpless, especially when she felt his hands back on her ankles. 'Please...please Mark...don't do this...let me go...' Briget whimpered as her legs were spread obscenely apart. The small vibration of the padlocks snapping closed at the ends of a long bar sent little shock waves through her ankle bones, up her widely spread legs and seemed to ripple around her crotch until all her concentration suddenly zoomed to her clit. She dared not speak out loud what she was thinking, but the sensation of having her body trapped in such a lewdly revealing position had stimulated her in a totally unexpected way, and she felt certain her now swollen clit was itching and stirring from beneath the protective fleshy hood at the apex of her pussy. This both filled her with a dry-mouthed excitement and acute embarrassment, intuitively sensing Mark's penetrating gaze on her uncontrollable display of perverse delight. The cool conditioned air filled the void between her thighs, reminding her that she was helplessly on display for him, unable to do anything to modestly protect herself. Struggling against the secure restraints only deepened her escalating arousal - the tender lips of her slit unfurling almost magically to betray her most profound emotional condition. 'There! That should hold you!' Mark said, hitching a rope from the center of the spreader bar to the short middle castor wheel at the bottom end of the bed. 'Now...let's get Jeremy on the phone and see what he has to say about you. I'm sure he'll be very pleased!' Briget's heart pounded furiously in her chest. Mark's fingers feathering on the soles of her feet, gently pressing into the soft webbing between her wriggling toes, made her think again about the message she'd read from Jeremy. She listened intently to the beeping sounds of buttons being pressed on a mobile phone, Mark obviously using the moment to imply by his casual groping of her sensitive feet what would happen once his client arrived. Mark listened as the phone buzzed its familiar ringing tone, admiring the perfectness of the beautiful nude body stretched out on the bed in front of him. He felt swelled with self-satisfaction, his eyes wandering from the tips of Briget's long, spidery fingers to the tips of her attractively dainty toes. There was a pinkness about her feet which was highly alluring to him. It suggested not merely a cleanliness about her, but was a clear sign of her wariness about having them handled in any way. He cupped the big toe of her right foot in his hand just to feel its form. He held it for a second, twisting it gently to force Briget's foot into a position where he could see the subdued red gloss on her toes. He congratulated himself silently for having been accurate with his first impression of Briget. The nails were neatly trimmed, and the application of the red polish revealed things about her he knew she probably didn't even realize herself. He didn't have to imagine her sitting in her room earlier in the day, rubber spacers holding her toes widely spread while she applied the gloss, being thoroughly careful to paint it on evenly and without spillage on her toes. He knew she was too innocent yet to understand, but the ritual of painting her nails, especially in making her toes attractive, was a manifest sign of a desire to have them tickled and caressed. It was also true, Mark knew well, that a girl who'll let you touch her feet will let you touch her anywhere. It didn't matter that Briget presently had no say in the matter. She wasn't objecting at all to his sensual caressing, and, looking at the way the rest of her beautiful nude body was vulnerably open to his eyes, there was no way she could stop him or anybody else caressing her all over. Mark wondered whether he should check his computer for the names of some other clients...maybe make a group booking for the weekend? 'Hello, Jeremy?' Mark said when his call was finally answered. 'I have your itinerary all set out here and ready to go...don't forget your camera!'

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/17719.txt

TheRant

Greek Lessons

'Yum!' I thought to myself as Erika leaned across her desk to pick up the thick textbook she used to teach this course. 'Advanced Computer Architecture' I didn't find too difficult, and I really didn't need to join this tutorial class Erika had started after the real class, but since I had taken the 'Intro to Computer Architecture' from her last semester and had joined the tutorial group for that, I decided to join this one too. Erika, who demanded that all her students call her by her first name instead of by her title, was the best professor I'd had yet at my two and a half years at the university. She was also definitely the most gorgeous, beautiful, and sexy. She reminded me of one of those Greek goddesses from those terrible 1960s Hercules movies. Five foot six with long wavy chestnut brown hair, dark eyes that really looked into you when she talked to you, and a tight, well-built figure that made her look much younger than the 38 years I knew she had. And then there was her accent. She spoke English perfectly but had a thick Greek accent that lent a real sexy mystique to her voice. I didn't find it as sexy as an Australian accent, but it certainly came a close second. 38 wasn't that old. Michelle's mother had just turned 38. And yes, for those of you who might have noticed, I do have a bit of a thing for my best friend's mom. She looked fabulous, a more mature version of her beautiful daughter, and I'd had more than a few wet dreams about her, usually ones that had both her and Michelle as feature performers, but I was adult enough to know that they were nothing but post-adolescent fantasies. Erika looked up from the desk and smiled at me as she noticed that I was staring fixatedly at her ass in the tight jeans she was wearing. "Do you like my bottom?" she asked me frankly. "I spend a half hour every morning on aerobics to keep it this way." The rest of the group of students that had joined this regular after-class meeting had already left, and I was just packing up myself when I'd gotten that chance to glimpse those nice half-moons jiggling in her pants. I stared at her a bit shocked, but should have been used to her frankness by now. When Erika had a question to ask you, she came right out and asked it. "My last husband said it was my best feature," she said. Before I could answer, she slid her hands down her back and cupped the two cheeks in her hands. "Hell, Erika!" I said, deciding to be just as frank. "You don't have any bad features." She smiled at me, raising my temperature and blood pressure. "Would you close the windows and blinds for me?" She turned back to gathering her stuff off the desk. Really, I would have just preferred sitting in my chair behind the desk for another minute; I didn't want her to see me standing up, but knew she'd just ask me if anything was wrong if I didn't comply, so I just stood up, a noticeable bulge in my pants that just wouldn't go down. I went to the side of the room and began closing and locking the windows and then lowering and shutting the blinds. When I finished and turned back, she was sitting on the corner of her desk and staring at me with a knowing grin. "Simon, you are my favorite student," she told me. "Do you know why?" I had a few answers to that question that I would have liked to say, but instead answered with, "Because I've got the highest grade in the class." "True enough," she said as she hopped off her desk, sending her breasts jumping under her sweater and my half-softening bulge back to full hardness. Walking to the door into the room, she closed it and locked it. "But no, that is not it. It is because you listen to what I am saying and watch what I am doing and always can tell what I am going to do next." With that, she went back to the desk, stretched out sensually on top of it, and undid the top of her jeans. I walked to her and watched as she wriggled out of them until they flopped to the floor. "I bet I can guess what you're going to do next," I told her as I moved closer and began to rub my hand against the frilly lace-like material of her panties. "Yes, that is why you are my favorite student," she said, reaching up to pull my face down to hers. I joined enthusiastically into the kiss as one of my hands reached under the sweater to grab a hot, needle-tipped breast while my other hand still rubbed her cunt through her panties until they were soaked with her drippings.When he kissed his way down from her breasts, over her stomach, through the short brown hairs and to the woman's place, she again felt thrilled and frightened but also confused. She had sneaked watches at her parents doing things in their bedroom a few times, but they had never done this. Then when his tongue started to lick and stroke her insides, she no longer cared. Her uncle only took a few minutes to kiss her into her very first orgasm. It had been such a sensation that she knew she must do it again and again, as often as her uncle would let her. Then he had taken the man's thing out of his pants. She had seen her father's and a few boys' before, but to actually be this close to one. She hesitantly reached out and touched the hard-looking rod and felt the heat it was giving off. "You are burning up," she told her uncle. He just smiled and told her that he knew of a way to cool off. Then he stuck the rod between her legs like she had seen her parents do. At first it wasn't very nice, but after a moment, she began to feel more and more pleasant sensations as her uncle pushed back and forth in her. Just as she was really starting to feel really good, Uncle Louis made a loud grunt and spat out his seed into her. She was a bit disappointed, but less than fifteen minutes later, Uncle Louis came back for more. And this time, he did not disappoint her. After she told me about her first time, she in turn asked me about mine. I told her about Michelle and then a little bit about Kathy, which she seemed to find very exciting. She was very pleased when I told her that I was still seeing Michelle as often as we could. Her Uncle Louis had died 5 years ago in a traffic accident, and she missed him very much still. Looking up from between her legs, I saw that she had removed her sweater and her bra and was happily playing with her nipples. The combined caresses quickened her release, and in less than a minute, my mouth was full of her juices as she began to flop her ass up and down, trying to drive my face even further into her. "That was good!" she told me as she began to calm down. "I am going to miss you when you graduate." I slid up her body, pussy juice dripping off of my chin in a wet trail, and kissed her hard on the mouth. "I've still got three years left to go," I told her. "You're not getting rid of me that easily." She laughed and kissed me hard back, her tongue dancing in my mouth. "Maybe yes, but this is the last of my classes for you to take." "If you're worried that I won't want to see you once I'm no longer your student, you're wrong," I told her, reaching down to help guide my cock into her wet hole. "I'm not fucking you for good grades; I'm doing all right there on my own. I'm fucking you because you're beautiful, and I want you." Raising myself on my hands and knees, I hunkered down and pounded away at her, my cock digging deeper and deeper inside her with every thrust. "Yes, keep doing that," she pleaded, her head swinging back and forth with each thrust. "That feels so good." I smiled down at her and nibbled on her throat and neck, then her ears, and then finally her lips. She really was the most sensual woman I'd ever known. Sure, Michelle, Kathy, Lisa, and Sheila were all sexy, but Erika had something they didn't - the experience and the drive to experience even more. Given time, I'm sure Michelle and Sheila would gain that quality, but for now, they were just too young. "Give me more! Give me more!" Erika demanded as she pushed up against me with each thrust. I was buried in her to the very base of my cock, and for a second, I thought her hungry cunt was going to suck in my balls as well. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she began to chant, the familiar signal of a powerful vaginal orgasm building up, so I hurried my pace even further, plowing up and down so hard it felt like I was trying to set a new record for the hundred-meter dash. "Yes! Yes! Yessssssssss!" she screamed as she threw her arms around me and pulled me tightly to her body as she came. Her mouth opened and sucked in my tongue, her diamond-hard nipples dug into my chest, while her hips fluttered up and down like a hummingbird's wings. "Oh yes!" I yelled my own appreciative cheer as her tremoring cunt sucked the cum right out of my cock, swallowing it down inside itself. For another minute, we held each other, our joined groins still trembling. Then she gave a slow, sensual kiss and rolled over so we were lying on our side, facing each other. "Simon, did you mean that?" she asked me. "You will still come and see me when you have finished with my class?" "Erika, for such a gorgeous, sexy woman, you have a bit of an insecurity problem," I joked. "As long as you want me, I'll come see you." "That's nice, Simon," she said, hugging me tightly to her warm, soft body. "But next time, can we go somewhere else? I think people are starting to notice that groove your ass is digging on the desk top." She looked over before realizing I was teasing her. "In that case, what are you doing this weekend? I have just bought a new waterbed, and it could use some trying out."

Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year1998/16615.txt

Suzie SleaZe

School Dazed Sex

'Enter!' Chris Perkins opened the door of my office slowly. Closing it carefully, he turned, faced me - and froze. He stared at my tits, then my cunt. His expression was one of shocked disbelief. Shocked disbelief because for the four years I'd taught at the exclusive boys' boarding school, I - 'Miss Pritchard' - Year Tutor formidable - had been seen wearing only dowdy, sexless, 'old maid' clothes. Perkins was the first pupil to see the REAL me... The HornSlut, dressed to tease, excite and provoke. Shimmering-white, wet-look-Lycra hipster-pants hugged every contour, invaded every crevice. A side-zipper exploiting flat stomach and smooth, lower-belly drop to the inverted 'V'. There, the pants-seam cleaved... exhibiting two softly-bulging, mini-mountain ranges flanking the deep river gorge of my horny, juicing cunt... The deep river gorge of an ever-cock-hungry cunt - extra horny right now because I'd been reading Chris Perkin's filth. Above the sexy pants, the school's infamous tits breathed softly, bared beneath a translucent, white satin blouse... Hair, - shoulder length, straight and blonde, disheveled in a 'slutty' look - instead of in the usual old-maid's bun. Chris (HornyCock) Perkins had every reason to look shocked! The close proximity of youthful horniness began affecting me strongly, so I proceeded with the planned lecture - in my capacity as his Year Tutor. 'Perkins, at eighteen years of age, one of the most senior scholars and now ready to leave, you are well acquainted with the standards of Easton College... 'Writing pornography on college computers in college time - swamping school and Internet with filth is assuredly NOT Easton standard! I understand you have become something of a celebrity around the world? Easton is now famous - FOR PORN? He stood quietly. I noticed he had lost a brief struggle to avert his eyes from my flaunted assets. My teats tingled at the exhibitionist 'rush'. Chris Perkins - WetCum for any female the right side of puberty was getting off on me... But Chris Perkins, today, was in deep shit - the reason for his presence. The fact that I'd summoned him during a P.E. period was no accident. I wanted him there, in the last days, to see up close those sexy shorts he wore for P.E. I'd seen the too-tight, white-and-blue lycra things before, but only from a distance. Now, finally, I had them up close and already the boy's cock was taking on a more distinctive shape... I realized I was staring... Gathering my senses, Miss Pritchard - 'Battleaxe' - advanced, glaring and brandishing the incriminating computer diskette confiscated that morning by Mr Biggins, (Science). (After a tip-off from guess who...) The lad looked decidedly confused. He'd walked in expecting to see Miss Pritchard - "The Tits", "Les Jugs", "Battleaxe", "Ice Maiden" - fitting nicknames for the character I'd adopted - that of the classic, sharp-tongued schoolmarm. A character adopted to screen the real me - a simmering cauldron of sexual lusts. 'What would your father have to say, Boy? If he were to find you have been writing filth in school time, and for personal gain! I have viewed part of the first page - what you write is just that - downright filth! Well, what would he have to say, Boy?' If he had given a truthful answer I knew exactly what it would have been - Chris Perkins and twin brother Karl were the sons of a multi-millionaire soft-porn king. Father would be quite happy that son was following in the footsteps... But I carried on with the pretence... 'You realize, Perkins, that if I pass discipline to the Headmaster an immediate expulsion is certain? He was gazing at my tits and I knew what he saw - hard teat extruding thin, white satin... 'Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Boy!' His gaze snapped upward. The dark-brown, spaniel-eyes met mine. My senses screamed 'FUCK HIM!' My cunt wept in horny frustration and a warm trickle spurted - deliciously dirtily - from somewhere to somewhere deep inside me. 'So what do I do, Boy? Refer this to the Head or deal myself? Can you think, Perkins, of a reason why I should be lenient?' 'No, Miss Pritchard.' 'No! Of course you can't but due to your previous unblemished record, I SHALL deal!' 'Thank you Miss Pritchard.' 'Report here at tea-bell tomorrow bringing with you all your diskette filth - and I mean ALL!' The shape in the shiny-white shorts was doing its own thing - lengthening and fattening. Now it was me staring... I turned, walked slowly to the window and looked out. He had my ass - perfect, high-jutting - bare cheeks sleeked in shining-white, silky Lycra; the cleft a light shade of grey... 'Well Boy? What are you waiting for?' He scuttled out, hurriedly closing the door. Too briefly, I glimpsed the sort of butt I love - one to hard-rub a horny cunt on - perfectly formed, pushing high beneath the too-tight shiny lycra. He was gone - for now. My hand strayed, slid on slickness, creased the groove... It'd been fun - hornying a student for the first and last time, especially a randy Perkins twin. I fantasized for the hundredth time about the both of them fucking me - of me abusing those perfect, youthful bodies, pleasuring them... Later ... soon, perhaps... Sitting at the monitor I settled to read more of Perkin's 'filth'. My left hand tapped down-arrow while my right traced the other down-arrow - starting at my clit ... through the filmy lycra pants. Slickness. The crotch would soon be stained. The smell of cunt would soon rise, pushing through the crotch. The boy could write. I'd already cum twice on his filth... "She was in super-fuck mode that night - that gypsy slut. After Karl and I'd fucked her twice apiece she lay back on the bed with her legs spread and made us stand either side and watch her stroking her own cunt.Jizz was sliding right out of her hole, and the randy bitch wiped the stuff up her belly to meet Karl's mess, which still lay where he'd shot his load on her tits after tit-fucking her. She just sort of lay there and did it, watching us get hard again on seeing the sexy slut smear our slime over her body. We both knew what she'd want next - mouth fucking. She always wanted it that way - cunt, mouth, then ass - 'nice and tight for last,' she says - and after the ass-fucking would come the piss - 'piss on my tits, it makes me cum' - and after we'd drained all over her, she'd use the yellow dildo with balls. To anyone reading, Chris Perkins' writing would create a mental picture of the twins' sex with a slut. To me, it did much more because I'd WITNESSED the very depravity about which I now read. I made a mental note to pick him up on the grammar... sooner rather than later. At eight p.m. after a gym workout, Perkins entered his poky-but-private domicile, the most valued privilege of final-year students. He read again the main points of the letter the twins had received that morning from their father: "Dear Chris and Karl, This will come as a shock to you, but on Saturday I'm to marry again! I've known Claire for two years now... share everything. She's pure sex, full of life... need to be with her... we satisfy each other's cravings, dreams... fulfill each others' fantasies. You'll love her too... wedding invitation enclosed..." Lying on his front on the bed, Perkins contemplated what his new 'mother' would be like. If Dad loved her, he decided, then so would he. He replaced pillow with notebook computer and started work. By ten p.m., the task of editing four of his stories was complete. 'The Tits' would get her diskettes, with the real filth edited out! For once the bitch wouldn't get one over on him! Briefly, he wondered again why she'd dressed like that today... He stood and stretched, catching his reflection in the full-length mirror. Perkins liked himself. He was every girl's fuck-fantasy, and knew it. A tight, white vest stretched over bulging pecs; it laid bare a muscle-honed torso. Brief, electric-blue Lycra workout short-shorts displayed a thick, downward-curving cock, the flimsy, shiny fabric hiding nothing. At the bulbous head, a darker-blue patch glistened wetly - editing his own filthy stories had made him horny. Squeezing gently at the lump, he turned, looking back at the mirror. Broad, muscled shoulders swept in to narrow waist and boyish hips snugged by the shiny-blue fabric. The ass was perfect - muscled and high-jutting beneath the shiny, stretched Lycra. Pulling the vest over his head, he stood naked but for the shorts. Squeezing the cock-bulge, he watched slimy pre-fuck ooze through the lycra, making a dark blue, glistening patch. He bent quickly and peeled the shorts to his knees, straightened and played with the thick fluid clinging to the head of the still-jacking seven-incher. Lifting glistening fingers to his lips, he sucked gently, slowly wanking, pulling more juice from the cock now standing up his belly. Then, kicking the shorts off, he picked up a towel on his way to the door, cock swaying lewdly. Directly across the corridor were the showers - just time for one before Karl and Kikki arrived... I watched it all. Standing quietly in total darkness outside his window, I watched through a crack in the curtains. Watched... and waited... Boy-watching - my favorite fetish! Especially watching the hornier, older ones deprived of female contact eke out their spunk - solo, sometimes in groups. The 'old-maid-schoolmarm' facade had been very successful - allowing freedom to exercise my more deviant of habits. Weekends and holidays though, 'Miss Pritchard' reverted to be the thirty-two-year-old, lust-crazed, beautiful slut. Weekends in the City I enjoyed my depravity with others of a like mind - each slaking our thirsts in ever more diverse and perverted activities. I'd already cum, watching the beautiful youth in those tight, sexy shorts enjoying his own body. Enjoying his own cock; loving the way the light-blue Lycra strained over that jutty-proud boy-ass! The licking of his own cock-drool had done it... that, and my own digit - gently stroking a tiny, white satin g-string into the hot 'n' horny groove of my cunt. I wore 'uniform' for these nightly forays - an innocent-looking, black leather, knee-length coat. Cut-away pockets gave free hand access to the lithe body beneath... a luscious body, bared save for g-string, suspender belt, black stockings and ankle boots. My tits thrust hard against the cool leather. Already on a high, I took a deep drink of Vodka from my hip-flask and waited... Five long minutes later, Perkins re-emerged - still naked. I watched him select items from a drawer - items leaving me in no doubt that tonight I was in for another treat. A few minutes later, brother Karl entered wearing a short white robe, showing off deep-tanned, muscled thigh. My hand moved leisurely in my heat and wet. I swayed, rubbing my teats against the coarse leather. A girl followed him into the little room. She displayed classic gypsy features - black, straggly hair, dark complexion and, though not beautiful - she was sex. She wore a short white fluffy bathrobe beneath which black stocking sheened on light-muscled thigh. Crossing to the bed, she sat, watching the brothers intently. Karl gazed at his brother, lust consuming the handsome features. He eyed evil-looking, black metal tit-clamps; stared at the wide, black leather belt slung loosely from slim hips; gawped at the riding crop hanging from it; gazed at the shiny-black latex briefs, hanging heavy with bulging genitals; glanced at the black leather knee boots... and back to the swollen briefs, licking his lips when he noticed... movement. Saying nothing, he slipped the robe from his shoulders and stood silently... watching the reciprocated lust evident in his twin. He bared a muscled, tanned, body of a man-boy, bared save for a crimson-satin thong. Chris approached his brother, stood in front of him with riding crop outstretched. The leather tip stroked up Karl's thigh, caressed satin'd balls. Karl flinched as it tapped his heavy, downward-pointing cock. I checked nervously around, slid my left hand through the coat and squeezed my right teat. My right hand worked silently at my succulent, slippery core... Several factors caused pounding heart, quivering knee and panting lust. Firstly, I knew that these horny boys were about to share each other - then the girl. Second came the thrill of the risks of my being there. Third was my hand's caress; my nakedness; the feel of cool air on bare ass. If only some anonymous man... some anonymous cock... would creep up behind me, raise the coat and stuff my cunt with man-meat... The black riding crop slid upwards, over a flat, hard stomach to trifle with Karl's teat ring. Karl watched it, looking down open-mouthed, tongue flicking nervously. 'What's it to be, Karl? What does horny bro' want tonight? Come on, tell me, Karl! You love to tell me! Tell me all the disgusting things you want me to do to you... then tell Kikki all the dirty things you want her to do for us...' 'Kikki' smiled sexily and stood up. Moving slowly to where the boys stood, she slipped off the robe. Shiny-black thigh-boots, the sheen of black stockings held up by a black leather sussie... Between stockie-top and sussies, dark, firm thigh and a bright-gaudy 'V' of peachy-satin panties, crinkling lightly into the crack of her cunt... A flat, dark-skinned belly with downy-fuzz of black... Heavy, full tits, swaying gently in a half-cup black leather bra... Almost-black teats, large - inviting, and hanging lewdly over the bra, the black circles each pierced by large, gold rings. Kikki was sex. Pure, debase, wanton cock-fodder. 'Do my tits, Chris,' Karl said softly. 'Whip my tits... hard, so they hurt... like before. Then do my ass - then make me suck your cock and do what you did befo...' Unfinished words. The crop raised and slashed downward on Karl's left nipple. The boy's head snapped backward, mouth gaping in silent scream. I gasped in climax, sharing Karl's pain as my own fingers pinched turgid nipple, thrust past the 'g' into my turgid, slimy cunt. Upward-flicking crop smacks into satin'd balls. Karl's body convulsed, knees buckling, hips jerking involuntarily. His hands flew to his abused crotch. Kikki stared in depraved exhilaration, her hands sliding sexually over her gorgeous body. The fingers of one tugged at her teat ring, the fingers of the other gently slicked into her cunt through the crotch of her silky panties. Her mouth hung open slackly, her eyes wide, her breathing ragged... The abuser paused, the lust in his eyes and face matching that in his brother's - and the girl's. Replacing the crop in the belt, he squeezed at his own latex pants, then hooked the waistband under his balls, springing a full-erection free. It slapped wetly against his belly. I licked my lips, my fingers dug deeper. Jealous for the thousandth time - wishing that I had a lump of meat like that instead of a cunt, wishing I had something that stuck lewdly from my crotch, like an arrogant animal looking at its kill... with ugly, bulging balls dangling, hanging... 'Suck cock, Karl! It's dirty - needs your mouth to clean it.' Karl dropped to his knees and held the swaying mutant in his fist.Looking sexually up at his brother, he skinned it, revealing the trapped, glistening fluid. "Okay, so it's juicy, Karl! Suck on Dirty Dick!" The voice was almost a hiss. Karl's lips slipped gently over the head, pushing the thick fluid over his lips. It glistened, clung - a viscous trickle globbed down his chin. Kikki bent to watch the boy suck his brother's cock. Her head dipped, and she licked the slime from Karl's chin. "That's it, horny bro', take... it... all, 'cause I'm going to fuck your pretty-boy face..." Horny-Talk, I never could resist... Three fingers thrust, two-knuckle deep. My left hand pinched my right tit hard. My right knee shook. My eyes closed... The tip of the crop poked through Karl's teat-ring. It twisted. Karl looked down, watched his nipple screwed through three-sixty degrees. His mouth was silently screaming, but his hand worked cock, stretching the sexy crimson pouch obscenely. My nipple-finger pinched harder and harder until I gasped in pain, relishing the pleasure-wave rolling downward to my cunt. The crop flicked again, smacking the crimson pouch, bouncing the bulge. "Tits, balls and cock, Karl! Now your butt! Turn around, look in the mirror while I whip that sexy butt you're so fuckin' proud of!" Karl turned to the mirror, affording me full view now of his front and rear. Chris moved behind, slid his hands around and pinched Karl's teats. I watched his ass in the black latex briefs clench as he squeezed himself against his brother's ass... "You like that, don't you, Karl? Like to watch me nip your tits... and like to feel my hard dick in my sexy pants rub against your sexy butt!" The white silk g-string was a sodden rag under my ministrating fingers. My tits burned. I swigged more Vodka - the drink going straight to my head. Chris stepped back and flicked the insides of his brother's thighs from the rear, they splayed in recognition, and he reached between them - groping roughly at hot rigidness through shiny satin. "Mmmm, nice hard cockie, Karl... Your butt, Karl... I'm going to whip your butt. It'll make your dick drool with hunger, and it'll drool some more when I throw you on the bed and ram mine down your throat..." A shudder shook me, and I had to lean forward on the window sill to take some weight from buckling knees. The horny-talk was more than I could endure. Three fingers worked in juice-spewing slackness. I lifted my hand, smeared my own cunt mess around my mouth and nose. It felt lovely. I could smell my horny cunt as I watched - watched the best night of all time... Engrossed in a private world, my attention never wavered from the action... The muscled, tanned cheeks of Karl's ass were split by the wide band of red satin; a sharp upward 'V' of untanned flesh showed vividly either side of the split. I wished I'd been there to see the fit youth sunbathing in sexy swim-pants. Soon... probably... The crop struck, and struck again, cutting the cheeks with smacking, scarlet stripes. At each, Karl's body jerked, twitched, begged for another. At each, I shuddered. At each, the girl's excitement became more intense. She pushed between the two and stood. In boots, stockings and pink panties - bra discarded. Her hands were on her hips, and she thrust her tits out to Chris... "Hit my tits," she said, in a voice cracking with lust. "And fuckin' well do the bitches hard while I frigg off. I wanna cum while you hit me." Straddling muscled thighs, she slipped a hand to her panties. Her index slid over the contours of her cunt, pushing through the fabric - pushing shiny pink satin into her hole. Chris stared. Karl moved quickly behind her and watched over her shoulder. He gently fucked his pouch against her silky ass and reached his right hand around to replace hers, groping soft cunt through silky satin. She groaned and squirmed her ass back - silky girl-panties against silky boy-thong, hard with fuck-promise. "Go ahead, Chris, the bitch's ready for fucking. It feels like she's pissed her panties she's so fucking hot. There's a cock-burnin' furnace going in here." When the crop struck - a heavy, downward flick - the girl's mouth screamed, but no sound escaped. Young tits bounced, recoiled, regained their proud stance. Karl Perkin's hands, reaching around her, grasped the teat rings and pulled the girl's tits savagely outward from her body. "Oohhh, shitting fuck! Yessss," she hissed, looking down and watching the abusing hands. "Pull my fucking tits and hit my twat. Do it soft." She spread trembling thighs. Chris's crop rested on the ground between them. Kikki's mouth dropped open as she waited to receive the blinding pain in her cunt that would soon sear. She watched her tits abused. And waited... The crop smacked against the crotch of the wet panties, cutting the soft flesh beneath. She swooned and recovered, paused, looked Chris in the eye... "It's nice... burney... do me again.... harder." This time her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor, clutching her crotch... but still hadn't discovered the rush she yearned... She turned, looked over her shoulder at Chris... "Thrash my bottom. I want it stripey-hot when you bastards fuck it. And do the crack as well. I like that." Karl moved to her head, pulling his cock from the pouch. He wanked slowly in front of her face, pulling more juice to add to the pool already in the head of the cock. Catching a falling strand, he wiped it on the lips of the girl's gaping mouth. Chris moved to watch his brother skin his cock, revealing the collected copious slime. Karl closed the girl's mouth, thrust forward, and fisting his cock wiped the thick goo around her lips and chin. Her mouth opened in a wide, white-flashing, sexual laugh. Then her lips sucked at the piss-hole of the drooling cock. As Chris moved behind her once more, Karl slow-fucked her mouth. The panties clung, moulded to the most perfect of girl asses, the satin crinkling lightly into the cleft. When the blow struck across the centre of the cheeks, Kikki mewled, a strangled cry of pain. She pushed Karl away and stood, frigging herself gently. "You two now... I wanna watch you. Fuck his mouth, Karl," she said quietly. "I want to watch you use his mouth again." Chris pushed the tanned, muscled body of his brother roughly forward. It bounced on the bed, squirmed and turned quickly onto its back. The crimson pouch distorted lewdly. Climbing atop, he kneeled astride, sitting on the chest and pinning the body to the bed. "I'm gonna fuck your mouth, Karl, and there's a full balls-load, boiling-up, ready to shoot all over your pretty-boy face. Get ready. Open up, Karl, open your fucking mouth, bro'." I stooped forward on the point of hyperventilating. Both hands worked; one kneading a tit, the other deep in my dripping core. My nostrils flared with my own heady musk - I wished I could have a smell of theirs. The abuser hooked the waistband of his pants under his balls, releasing the wondrous, seven-inch-fatness. He leant forward over the prone body and pressed it into the captive boy's mouth. The cheeks of his ass bunched in the shiny-black pants as he pressed downward. Karl stared upward, wide-eyed at his brother and the girl. She had both hands on Chris's cock and was pushing it into Karl's mouth with savage lust. When it was in, she moved down the bed and squeezed Karl's cock through the pouch, reached under to fondle Chris's balls still within the black briefs. "Cum for me, Karl-Boy," she said softly. "Cum for Kikki. I want to lick your jizz out of this sexy pouch." At that moment, my private world fell apart... Chris pulled out of Karl's mouth, fisting his cock which spewed its load into his brother's face. Karl's jutting, crimson pouch turned dark red as his own semen pumped into it under the ministrations of Kikki's hands. My stockinged thighs clamped together, forcing dewy fingers further inside. I fell forward onto the window ledge, gasping... Then mewled in shock as my world went black. Something had been thrown over my head and torso, a rope was tied around it, binding my arms to my sides. Strong arms encircled... bodies crowded, pushed... Terrified, I realised what I had always known - rape fantasy was just that, fantasy. The real thing would be terrifying - was terrifying... for at that moment I was certain I was to be raped. Blissful relief then, when two minutes later the rope was untied, the sheet whisked off, and I found myself standing in the room into which I'd just been spying; looking into six shocked and disbelieving, young faces... The Perkins twins. 'Lurch', nicknamed on account of his six-foot-five height, lumbering gait and hideously disjointable limbs. Thomas 'Tubby' Fox - wimp. Kikki - 'do my fanny' sex-slut. And dreaded outspoken brat, Simon Mathers who - first to recover composure - played 'mouthpiece' as usual. "Well well, if it isn't Miss Tits! It seems it's your ass on the line this time, if you'll pardon the colloquialism. Wait 'til the Head hears about this! Careless, Miss Pritchard, very careless, leaving footprints under the window last night! A voyeur gardener we thought we'd check for tonight! And bagged our own fucking Year-Tutor!" With my bubble burst, I tried to rationalise a thousand whirring thoughts... publicity... police! Then the dawn of an idea! I could do as much damage to them as they could to me! Maybe I could even leave the school with some sort of legend-status! I'd enjoy the attempt anyhow... Taking the final draught from the flask, I threw it theatrically into the corner of the room.Unbuttoning the coat, I sent it after the flask. Unpinning my hair, I shook it into the blonde fuzz. The resultant lust in the faces of the five - no, six for Kikki's - was apparent too, sending sparks to my nipples and worms to my clit. They were transfixed. Miss Pritchard - hateful, spiteful, old-fashioned schoolmarm - had turned into a cock-bucking, ball-crawling, fuck-me-then-come-in-my-mouth vision of a slut. Twelve eyes ogled me standing there, wantonly exposing myself in a shiny-black PVC suspender belt, black stockings, and a scrappy-white satin g-string. Twelve eyes devoured as, with hands on hips, I thrust out my tits at them, turned to give my ass to them, and fucked my crotch at them. And I played my ace. Gone was the high-pitched 'Miss Pritchard' voice - this was the real voice, the voice of me, SuperSlut. 'Mathers, you loud-mouthed, butt-fucking ass-licker! Use what little brain you have! If the Head "finds out" about me, he finds out about you! Imagine him knowing the uses to which you put your "friend" Lurch, late at night when you're half drunk, after you've plied the poor bastard with drugs! Not just the Head, perhaps? Your parents... girlfriend? And you, Tubby! Your store of porn made public! Don't look so shocked... under the floorboards by your wardrobe - not to mention the little toys you use on that little-fat cock of yours! And the stocking and pantie store? Like wearing them, don't you?' And not forgetting the ever-horny Perkins with definite inclinations towards even more deviant practices - S/M and watersports - eh, boys? See? We've all got our little secrets, haven't we? So, why don't we just enjoy our circumstance here - and quietly have some fun? It's my last week in this hell-hole, and I want to go out with a bang - or with a multiple-fuck to be more precise.' They looked at one another, then at me, realization dawning, slowly. 'Come on, boys. Get naked. I want your horny cocks.' They scrabbled. Clothing everywhere. I shook the untidy mane of blonde hair. Parting my thighs, one hand slid to my tits, the other between my thighs. 'Like the tits, boys? Big, fat, juicy for your grubby little hands? Like to see a horny slut with a hand in her panties, like this... frigging her hot 'n' horny cunt, begging to be fucked? 'Like the stockings? Come and drool your cocks on them! Feel how nice silk stocking feels with a hot, sex-hungry woman filling them. 'My tits burn for you, boys! My cunt's horny for you, for your young cocks. I want to horny-fuck with you all... I want your horny cocks in my horny cunt, my mouth, my ass... whip my ass... whip my tits... suck my cunt and find out what a real woman tastes like...' Kikki stepped forward, eyes shining. Reaching her hands to my tits, she weighed them, staring into my eyes. I knew what she wanted. The horny little exhibitionist bitch walked both sides of the fence, and she was asking if I did too! I did. My tits felt delicious in her warm, juicy hands. I leant forward and licked her chin gently, tasting the smears of glisten, the lovely drool of cock. I licked her lips, my tongue darting there, fighting, squirming with hers. My hands slid down her belly, over that downy fuzz, and I stroked her cunt through the pinky satin panties. They were wet and hot there at the crotch. My fingers probed her cunt. Her body jerked at the contact. She gasped... 'Let's do... dirty things for the boys, Miss,' she mouthed into a kiss. 'Show them how dirty us girls can be?' She sank to her knees, hooked the side-tie of my 'g' and ripped savagely upward. The crotch tore into my cunt, the tie snapped, the flimsy triangle of satin slipped to hang around my knee. Pain turned to a pleasure-wave of lust. Cool air cooled. She looked around at the boys - who had closed in on us - all naked, panting and slowly wanking - then looked up into my face, as she extended her tongue to my cunt. 'Ohhhh...' I gripped her head, pushed it away, looking down into the sexful expression gazing back up. On the tip of her tongue, she displayed the sprig of thick juice, expelled by my burning cunt. 'You're fanny smells horny. You've got a horny cunt. I like to lick out horny cunts.' Then the foul-mouthed, dirty slut did it. Slowly - not too slowly. All the while, both of us got our tits and asses mauled. All the while my hands sought rampant cock, full balls or young, firm ass. Cock slime clung to my hands and arms as they pushed forward, pressing their sweaty-juicy cocks into my hands for a feel, a grope, a wank. When I sensed one ready for spurting, I pushed it away, felt for another. My hands were not the place I wanted to accept their first - their heaviest of loads. Except Tubby. The excited little fatty couldn't stop himself gaily wanking after I'd stopped. I pushed him toward Kikki's head. Though reluctant to have her mouth leave my cunt, I wanted to watch the slut take a load in the face. Tubby's little, but fat, stubby cock poked Kikki's cheek. She turned toward him and raked her fingernails up his chubby thighs. Then, holding the base of his cock, she dipped her head and suckled his balls, the sounds of her lickings and sniffings (deliberately?) loud. She knew when it was coming and held it steady in her fist, a few inches from her face - squeezing, not wanking. She stared up at Tubby. 'Do it, fatty. Cum in my suckey mouth.' He didn't. He shot his load all over that dark-skinned, sexy-pretty face. Mostly, the rich, white-flying ropes missed her mouth - because she wanted them to. The slut wanted her face garnished, for all to see, and savor. When it had done spurting, she noisily sucked for the last. And still held the cock in her fist, staring up at the boy. 'There's some left - deeper in,' she said. Tubby, in the aftermath of cum, looked quizzical. Kikki defined her request... 'Piss it out, Tubby. For Kikki?' 'Filthy bitch!' Mathers muttered, doubtfully. 'You ain't seen nothin' yet,' Karl Perkins muttered back. Tubby's ass-cheeks clenched. I moved behind him, tickled his ass, groped under to feel his balls - watched over his shoulder. The upward gaze of the girl wavered between his face and mine. The sperm-streaked face opened in that sexual laugh again, white teeth and lips cloyed - connected - by strands of boy cum. I wished it were me on my knees. 'Go on, Tubby,' I whispered. 'She wants it. Piss in her face. Give it to her - we want to watch.' He found it hard. But obeyed. A two-inch squirt, headed by thickness, followed by yellowness. The thickness stuck, just below her eye. The rest settled briefly down the gipsy nose, and slipped onto the licking tongue. 'Lovvvelly,' she groaned. Just the start of the sexy girl's orchestrated 'show'... Minutes later, she had me, half-sat on Perkins' desk, thighs splayed (still wearing the boots and black stockings). She had the base of twelve inches of shiny-black, pliable dildo in her hand. Nine - so far - were up me. She was going for twelve, and they loved it. So did I. To watch another horny girl ramming a huge dildo up my cunt was good enough. For it to happen there, illegally, in front of all that rampy-young horned-up cock was fantastic. She fucked me with it. Almost coldly. Pushing that monster in and out in long, even strokes. On the in-stroke, she dipped her head and bit my tits, her face displaying animal lust. I wondered what it would be like if she had me alone - tied up. My cunt slurped, widened, choked - and juiced, streaking the shiny-black with its frothy-thick stickiness. Sweet-heated cunt-stink rose in the heat from my sweating body. When she'd taken her pleasure, she gave them all a go at the new game - dildo-fucking the HornBitch. One by one they jostled to hold the thing, to fuck me with it, their time off taken in sucking, biting, kissing, or just groping my tits. I was in heaven. A slut-whore's heaven of lust. The centre-piece. A fuck-machine. The machine at the centre of the orgy - generating the degenerate; the perverse - feeding their lust. Kikki stood on the desk behind me. On a brief glance upward, I saw her with thighs splayed, both hands at her crotch, reaming her cunt with a different dildo - a bright yellow dildo one with incongruous, hanging, latex balls. She used the balls for leverage, screwing her cunt down onto the lewd instrument of pleasure. Kikki also was in exhibitionistic heaven. Our noisy cums prompted exclamations from the boys to be quiet. I knew why - the corridors at lights-out were patrolled by junior teachers and the school caretaker. The boys did not want their bubble bursting before the party was over... 'Someone pull this fucker out, I need real cock-fucking!' Kikki again. When the mass of flesh receded, I saw her on all fours on the bed - doggying - with balls of yellow latex blooming from her cunt. With ass raised, she waited for the first to get to her. Mathers gripped the balls, ripped the yellow thing out of her cunt and bounced onto the bed. Holding her ass steady, he pushed his cock into the gaping, horney-hot slickness. I doggied beside the bed and watched from beneath, knowing that my tight ass and exposed cunt, my thighs adorned with black boots and stockings would prompt quick usage of cunt or ass - or both. It did. Tubby's little stalk was lost in the warm sea of my cunt, but he fucked it anyway, trying to reach under for my tits. I wriggled back on the jerking cock, watching Mather's monster ream Kikki's box, while his fingers went for asshole. 'Ooohhh Yessss! Plug my fucking shitter! Fuck me!''she screamed at him, just as a cock appeared, wavering in her face. 'Mouth-fuck me,' she commanded it. It did. And I watched, wishing I had one in my mouth too. She took it right to her throat and beyond, moving her head like a snake eating a large animal. All seven inches, eventually, were there. Little gurgling noises accompanied each of Mather's instrokes into her hot-box. His hand was busy too - I just made out what he was doing - screwing her asshole with his thumb. I wished it was me, where he was. I love to tongue girl-cunt - and asshole as she doggies for me - usually before fucking accumulated spunk-fills out of both. A few minutes later she was there, doggying in front of me on the carpet, that dark-skinned ass and back decorated with flies of Mathers' white spunk, her cunt dripping slime in long, delicious teardrops. He must've pulled out in half-cum and shot his load over her ass... Very considerate. As a cock sampled Kikki's throat, another sampled my cunt. I was left with her horny, spunk-juiced cunt, and the little browny joy-ring - widened, splayed - ready and inviting, right in front of my face. Where she'd placed it for me... My nose rested - snuffed the secret hole. My nose snuffed apples - and the pungent smell of a girl's clean asshole. Rising from under, in the heat - sweet and heady - girl cunt-stink. My tongue met boy-slime and fought through it to pleasure her gaping-horny cunt, flicking downward to tease her clit, back up to taste cunt and spunk in a tongue-lashing swathe. I swallowed cum - boy-spunk and cunt-cream. Swallowed what I couldn't smear on my face. The smell of cock provoked... She wriggled her ass on my face, the two muscle-fleshy pillows trying to chew my nose. She came on my mouth. She came on the ministrations of my tongue, the probing-sniffing nose... She came on the hands mauling her tits, and the cock fucking her throat... Mewling like a kitten, and shaking her ass, her sweet juice flowed. Cunt-cum and boy-cum. My face was slime. I went for Mather's spunk then. The dessert. The smell of it heady, I licked it from her asscheeks, the musky cleft, sucked it from her cunt and shouted in orgasm as a cock pumped a sweaty balls-load up my cunt while an anonymous hand punched my tits and another frotted my clit into a frenzy of seething delirium. The sluts got gorgeously, deliciously, used. As sluts love to be used. The rest would be only a dream. If I didn't have it now to play back to my new husband and friends at the start of a horny night's orgy... Because they took it in turns to use the Perkins' camcorder. The rest of the action was filmed: Kikki, on her back on the bed. Knees-high. Kikki, pushing a full beer bottle up her ever-hungry, spunk-spattered cunt. Kikki, her dark-skinned tits and downy, black-haired belly adorned with the thick-white streaks and glistening trails of man - shot from now-deflated balls. Kikki, shaking that bottle, exploding the beer inside her cunt... Kikki, mouthing the vilest obscenities, pulling at her tits while ramming herself full of beer and bottle... Kikki, with bottle fully embedded, her head over the edge of the bed, still mauling her own slimy tits while she sucked each boy-cock clean, licked it back to erection with her slutty mouth. Kikki, pleading with each of them to piss in her mouth, or to stand over her head and piss on her tits while her head raised up between their thighs, her mouth sucking and her tongue licking at balls and assholes. Me. Using her mouth. Straddling her face, pulling her head into my cunt I slimed her already-scummy face with the stuff my cunt was voiding. She relished each precious second. The words were cunt-muffled, yet excitingly clear... 'Piss in my mouth...' Her mouth clamped on my cunt and her eyes pleaded up from down there - between my thighs - I did as bidded while all watched, while the camera filmed. I leant forward, my hands sliding over her glistening, slimy, piss-wet tits. I trapped her head between my thighs and groaned as I did it. She gurgled a bit, but took it eagerly, the excess spilling from her mouth, over her cheeks and neck, dripping to the floor. The boys gave a weak cheer. The evening almost over... With some surprises... Kikki, standing on Perkins' desk - butt-naked, looking down her body and thrusting out her cunt at Mathers - main camera-man - who's lens was probably misting with the heat from her box. She didn't know it - didn't care, she did 'sex' for the 'rush' it gave her - but that film, in a few weeks time, launched her into a healthy career in 'specialised' movies... Chris Perkins, film-director and main stud, having just fucked that proffered cunt with the black dildo, filled the balls of the yellow one with his piss and proceeded to squeeze his gift into the used receptacle. We heard it go in - deep. She loved it ... but still wanted - needed - for more... Now the camera was rolling, the exhibitionist got her... It got me, too. As Kikki shouted 'Fist me you bastard!', pulling her tits and squirming her hips I got up on that table next to her, pulled Karl up after me and started sucking the jizz off his cock, right in camera-shot... 'Ram your whole fuckin' hand up my juicy twat-hole! D'ya hear?' rang in my ears as I suckled messy cock and reamed sweaty asshole... Chris Perkins went for gold... Four fingers went easy... She moaned and wriggled a bit to help. Four plus thumb were hard... She groaned and winced but when he relaxed the upward-push of his hand because of it she lashed him... 'Fuckin' get that bastard UP ME!' she screamed and reached down between her thighs to grasp his wrist and pull more of his arm inside her. 'Ohhh, sweetest SHIT!' she screamed as his hand and half his forearm embedded her distended cunt. Spreading her thighs and leaning forward, she grasped his forearm and rolled her hips, heaving her body up and down... She and Chris Perkins were oblivious to the sound of the key in the door and the creak as it opened. She and Chris Perkins didn't notice him enter quietly, so engrossed were they in their show of depravity. Leonard Shultz! Head Janitor, Head Gardener, Head Pervert! My secret Lover on Wednesday nights - my mid-week cock - to help me endure school life before each weekends' depravity in the City. For six months I'd been sneaking over the fields to his grotty gatehouse - each Wednesday at ten p.m. That gatehouse could have been a little palace but Lenny Shultz had no pride, no manners, and no sense of hygiene. I loved him for all those. He wanted cunt. I needed cock - hard - big - horny - dirty cock, attached to a mans-man who loved to use his women. By the early hours, each Thursday morning, I'd been thoroughly and almost systematically used and abused - mouth, tits, cunt and asshole. After pounding all with cock, he pounded all with his 'toys'. Lenny Shultz lived and worked for one thing - his porn collection - and his weekly Wednesday night treat... Or so I thought... Kikki was on her back on the desktop, flopping like a landed fish on Chris Perkins' arm. His free hand slapped her tits - she screamed at him to smack them harder. The rest of the boys and me stared at Schultz - Schultz the hated ... or so I thought... 'Having a little party before term-end, I see?' Chris Perkins froze, moved his body between Kikki's mid-section so that Shultz couldn't see (a little late!), and proceeded to extricate his arm. Staring around the group, panting a little, Lenny systematically stripped. I wondered how the hell he dared, in front of the boys he had terrorised ... especially now, standing there naked but for lycra 'scanties', the pouch bulging, the shiny, bright yellow fabric oozing a snail-trail of glistening juice... 'Well Miss Pritchard, I see you finally succumbed and came in from the cold - I trust my boys have serviced you well?' 'My boys'! I suddenly realised what the perv had been up to. I realised more when Kikki trotted up and stood right there, brazenly naked and spunk-smeared, in front of him. 'Hungry for your supper Lennie?' she asked, her hands doing something to her cunt I couldn't quite see. She had her thighs spread, her hands down there, her little tanned ass clenched and unclenched as she gently fucked her crotch at him. Shultz stared. 'C'mon Lennie. I'm packed full of Perkie spunkies, come feel it dripping out, it's all luvvely and slidey. You wanna have Perkie spunkies early?' So! He had me Wednesdays, Kikki Thursdays - after she'd been with the Perkins' both! 'He'd rather suck this,' said Mathers fisting his cock and standing next to Kikki. 'Right Shultz? What's it to be - horny-fresh boydick in your mouth or old jerk-off jizz from her cunt?' 'That dick's not fresh,' Kikki giggled, swiping Mather's hand away. 'It's been up my holes - and hers,' she added, nodding at me. 'Nice panties, Shultz,' Mathers mocked, reaching to roll his fingers across the glistening fluid seeping through the bulged yellow fabric. 'Been watching through the window and cumming in our sexy panties have we?' Mathers doubled in pain as Shultz's hand shot out, grabbed the boy's balls and twisted them in a paw of a hand. 'Shut your fucking loud mouth Mathers and bring Miss Pritchard over here. I think the two of us should get better acquainted.' So, Shultz was keeping our little secret a secret! For his own reasons - no doubt - but I preferred it that way.I didn't wait for Mathers' grubby hands to 'bring' - I walked straight up and kissed the beery, black-bearded face. And stroked my tits on the heavy-pec'd chest. And slid my hand down the nest of black belly-hair to gently squeeze the cock I loved - pushing obscenely through the stretched lycra briefs. 'Lick Kikki out,' I whispered into my kiss. 'Lick out her horny twat and share the taste with me...' Shultz sank to his knees. Kikki spread herself once again, this time right in front of his face. When his head bobbed forward, she stepped backward. 'Wait, wait Shultzy, let everyone see how jizzy Kikki's cuntie is before you slide that lovely thick tongue in there. 'I've been fist-fucked. Look how wide and open I am.' Kikki's hands split herself, she spread her thighs, almost squatting, and she lewdly pushed out her crotch. The fuzz of downy-black belly hair was smeared with juice. The trimmed black cunt hair frothy with white, slicked-up spume. Between the rosy, open lips, fresh spunk oozed. She used it with flicking fingers. 'Right Shultzy, lick my jizzy-smelly, fucked-out hole,' she said, pushing it onto his mouth and grabbing his head. 'Oohhh Yessss!' she hissed, mopping the bearded face with that burning bush before sitting it firmly onto his mouth. 'Now fucking well suck all that boy-spunk out o' my fanny you perverted bastard ... Oooohhh yes! More, do that more!' I watched for a second, then knelt beside the pair. Running one hand over his tight, lycra'd ass, the other over the cum-slimy stretched triangle at the front, I whispered, licking his ear as his mouth worked on Kikki's cunt... 'Cum in your pants Lennie. Spunk them. I want to suck jizz out of these sexy pants.' Squeezing rhythmically at the front, I pressed the lycra into his ass-crack, my index prodding the hole. He groaned into his supper. 'Oohh kept it up Shultzy, suck it like that...' Kikky crooned. 'Yes like that. So we can all hear you sucking cunt. What's she doing down there ... hope she's not wasting Shultz-cream on a hand job, if she is she'd better share it...' She shut her filthy mouth then and stopped moving on his face. I wondered briefly what she was up to. Briefly because I soon realised that Shultz was swallowing and also that a warm trickle was flowing down his belly, and soaking the front of his sexy yellow briefs where my squeezing hand still worked. I stroked my hand up his belly and chest, sliding the wetness over his skin. If Kikki wanted to keep secret the fact that she was pissing in his mouth then I was happy to go on with it. Besides that, it felt nicer - my squeezing hand was wetter, and the lumped man-pack beneath filmy lycra squelched nicely. 'Suck my asshole Shultzy pleeazzze,' Kikki mewled, turning around and doubling in front of him. The crack of that delectable ass opened and I watched his tongue flick the hole. It was one of Shultz's favourite activities - evident because his cock pulsed and I felt his it pump a ballsload of hotstuff into his sexy yellows, joining the warm slime already there. Time for my partypiece... I pushed him up to his feet, the bulging, wet triangle of yellow lycra now right in front of my face. Kikki knelt behind me and rubbed her tits on my back and fucked her wet cunt gently on my ass. She watched over my shoulder, reaching around to fondle my tits. I sensed other hands or cocks making use of the free parts of her body while all eyes watched me. Good. An honest slut likes to be watched as she gets her pleasure. Shultz's lycra briefs were two shades of yellow. Dry yellow and wet yellow. The wet yellow was almost translucent, showing his beautiful cock and balls bulging inside. I licked gently, gazing up into his face. The gorgeous smells mixed, yet all were there individually. Cock, spunk, wet lycra, and faintly - piss. My hands moved ... lovingly, my lips kissed, tasted... 'Shultzy you've pissed your pants,' said Mathers, matter-of-factly. 'Typical. But if you're retrogressing this orgy, then let's retrogress it properly. With that he stood behind Shultz, holding his cock while reaching around to pinch Shultz's nipples. 'How's that feel, Sexy Shultzy?' Mathers whispered over Shultz's shoulder. 'Boy's dangler down your pants, boy fingers nipping yer nips ... and ... boy piss ... on your ass...' Shultz groaned... At the same time, Mathers' piss burst into the area of Shultz's balls, ballooning the lycra. Only briefly. Then it pushed through the lycra and cascaded from his balls. I could see all then - even the black wiry hairs through the fabric. I sucked that fabric, raking my fingers up his thighs to gently grope. One of Kikki's hands left my tits, smeared down my belly and fingers prodded my core. 'Do it to him,' she said loudly. 'We're all watching. Lick out Shultzies jizzey-pissey panties...' I peeled them inside out. The massive cock swayed in front of my face, dripping spunk. It wasn't wasted, I put my head under it, stared up at the monster, and let it drip its filth - long slimy strands of it onto my face. 'Mmmm...,' Kikki's hands slid over my face, pushing the spunk towards my mouth. 'Eat it slut,' she whispered to me. 'Eat Shultzy's spunk and taste piss.' Briefly I sucked the cock before attending to the collected stuff clinging to the insides of the triangle of lycra. I licked, greedily, sucked noisily, and heard with satisfaction the groans of admiring disgust coming from above. I was a slut, doing what a true slut does best... Kneeling before a man doing lovely-disgusting things only a slut can do ... and getting off on others getting off on her. Kikki grasped my hair and pulled my head backward, dipping her own lips to meet mine. We shared a deep, slutty kiss. Then she licked my face. Starting at my eyes, she worked down, lapping the whole of my face like an excited puppy. And all the time we had our fingers in each other's cunts. And all the time the others watched... Enthralled. Slowly, Kikki peeled away, lay back on the floor. Her knees were raised, her thighs parted. Grasping her tits, staring at me, she pushed them up ... at me, and at the circle, grouped to wonder, to witness - to gawp at the depth of depravity... 'Piss on my tits Claire... 'Lenny - kneel over me and put your cock in my mouth. I want to frigg off while you both piss on me - in me.' Shultz knelt over her head, facing down her body, his balls resting in her eyes. He pushed his cock down into the girl's mouth which resembled one of a baby bird, searching for food... Shultz leant forward, slapping Kikki's hands from her own tits, replacing them with his. He pulled at them, staring at me... 'Piss on the bitch's tits, then on me. I want to get hard so I can fuck you...' I straddled Kikki, standing straight, both hands at my cunt. When it came it came hard and fast. A hot-aimed stream, first onto Kikki's tits and Shultz's hands, then onto her neck, and up... Up Shultz's body ... with me shuffling forward to get my pissing cunt to his mouth - to give the filthy bastard what he liked - the taste of a horny woman's piss. I leant over Chris Perkin's desk, swayed my tits on the rough wooden top, thrust my ass out. My thighs were splayed, opening for them all the bushy-blonde, glistening, hole. I looked over my shoulder; licked my lips. '... I like to be thrashed on my ass and tits. It makes me cum having my ass and tits whipped.' Karl Perkins joined me, Shultz too. In the mirror I saw three asses lined up for punishment - all tight, tanned asses, two with cock and balls dangling between splayed thighs. The 'smack' of Mather's crop on my soft flesh cracked through the silence in the little room. I jerked my cunt against the table, trying to find the edge with my clit. Mathers went for me. Six blows, each sending a hot, fiery arrow to my cunt. I watched my ass being abused. I watched Kikki watching me get it. She smiled, blew a kiss with lips glistening with man-slime. She gave it to Shultz and Karl, hard with a ruler. Mathers trailed the crop down my back, through the deep-clefted furrow and paused, prodding my asshole. I groaned - opened for a shit - pushed backward, eager for that extra sensation. Mathers lowered the weapon of exquisite torment, tickled the golden-blonde, hungry lips. I straddled some more. Karl Perkin's thighs pressed into the desk from the front, taunting me with cock in fist, pointing it at my mouth. A dewy, thick thread of fluid hung from the tip. I stretched forward to it... Finding the rough edge of the desk for my throbbing clit. Heady musk - the musk of fucked-out cock - flared my nostrils, seized my faculties like an aphrodisiac drug. My lips closed on the used thing like a baby on a dummy. Warm thighs pressed against the back of mine. My stockings rustled and Chris Perkin's cock slid wholly inside. Powerful thrusts shuttled me to and fro on the desktop, scraping my tits, banging my clit. Lurch and Mathers were beside Karl, reaching under to grope at my tits. Someone stroked the stockinged backs of my thighs; someone removed my boot and played with my toes. Someone's mouth closed on stockinged toes and sucked ... I couldn't see him but I knew that Tubby Fox was enjoying me too. In the corner of my eye, Shultz fucked Kikki - or rather Kikki used Shultz's cock, straddling his body as he lay on the floor. Her back was to me, so as she raised and lowered on the monster I had clear view of it, creamy with white frothy coat. His nipples came in for rough treatment until she lay forward over his body, her head held above his. His eyes stared up into hers.His cock was poised, just inside the entrance to her cunt. "Do it, filthy slut-tart. Spit on me if you want my spunk up your horny box - you know it makes me cum..." Her dark-skinned little body shook, as if she were giggling. When she turned her head a little, I saw that she was. I also saw the strands of spit she pushed from her mouth dripping onto Shultz's face. I thought I'd seen everything in my life until I saw that, and how wild it made Shultz. As he positioned his mouth to accept the offered fluids from the slut, his groin began a wild dance and that cock drilled her cunt like there was an engine behind it. There was - Shultz. And as he fucked her, he punched her tits with a ferocity that would bruise. And Kikki loved it, writhing and jerking as much as she could writhe and jerk... while spitting on a guy and getting her cunt fucked by him at the same time... But I had my own following and they wanted me. I was leaned over a table with a cock at my ass and one in my face from the other side of the table... Karl Perkins watched as I sucked his cock with a hungry mouth, enjoying the feel of the thickness which cloyed my lips and teeth. He looked over me into the eyes of his brother thrusting deeply into me and, grasping my hair, he wildly fucked my mouth. The first jets I tasted, the rest was sprayed into my face as he withdrew his cock and fisted the spurting rest into my face. I opened my mouth for him - them. A silent, sexually-triumphant smile showed my spoil, thickly cloying to lips and teeth. Chris Pritchard's sweating body fell onto my back. His thighs slapped wetly on mine and on my ass. At the moment his twin shot his load into my mouth, he had shot his into my cunt. I groaned as the cocks voided cunt and mouth. For reasons of file size, the remainder of that evening's fuck orgy, for the moment, remains in my mind. If you would like the continuation, and the events of the next time we met, I will be willing to share them privately with you, or perhaps via a posted request... But be warned... in order for us ladies(!) to elicit all from our men that night, something(s) distasteful took place... LATER THEN... Only the Perkins twins were left, still naked in the little room which reeked of sex. "I think we'd better take you across to the showers, Miss Pritchard," Chris said quietly. Thirty minutes later I was dressed, ready to leave the building the way I'd come - the fire exit. "What'll happen now, Miss Pritchard... you and us I mean?" Karl asked, almost innocently. I paused, smiling inwardly... "I think it's time you both called me Claire," I said quietly, gazing into the handsome faces... "Anyway, by Saturday afternoon it won't be Miss Pritchard, it'll be Mrs Perkins. Then - I suppose - you could technically call me 'Mother'... "Though I rather think that your gorgeous-hunk of a horny-toad father will insist on 'Claire'... "You see, I've only two days left at the school. On Saturday... well... I'll leave that for you two to figure out..." The fire escape banged closed behind me. My exit even quicker than my entry! I disappeared, back into the darkness from which I'd been so rudely plucked. Pausing, looking back into the lighted corridor, I saw the Perkins twins staring at the closed fire exit. Then they stared at each other... understanding breaking slowly across their astonished faces... I smiled. Miss Pritchard - once again, as always - got the last word! ENDS. Suzie SleaZe... Writes to PleaZe... and hopes she has! 101445.2670@compuserve.

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/Sluts/School Dazed Sex by Suzie Sleaze.txt

Some Sort of Dog

New Girls at St Cat's

'Hi Sis! Well, first things first, the kids are fine. Missing you, but ready to start at St Cat's next week and take on the world. Judy says they've made terrific progress, and the two young ones are at least a year ahead of where they'd have been if they'd gone to an ordinary school. And that's making no allowance for Suzanne's schooling being affected by the hassle she'd have been getting from the other little bastards. 'It's a pity you couldn't see them before they have to go down to Wiltshire, but I took some photos yesterday of the three of them in their new school uniforms, and you will see those when I get back. You won't believe what they look like - wet-dream schoolboy fantasy doesn't come into it! Only joking, of course. Not! 'And talking of schoolboys and wet dreams, Sir Roger was away most of last week! Not that he's the schoolboy in any sense of the word, but it does mean that young Clarrie has been free at nights, and keeping Davie occupied. So we finally get around to the subject of Davie! If our girls *have* retained their precious virginity, it's no thanks to Davie! He's the horniest boy in the world. I blame Clarrie for initiating him in the first place when we were down here two years ago! 'A whole lot has happened in that time, as you know, and not just the girls continuing the growing up process. They're so grown-up now, the young ones would easily pass for fifteen if they had to (or twenty) rather than eleven which they *do* have to next Tuesday. Nobody would believe they aren't officially old enough to go to Cat's! 'I'm going to Shrewsbury to see Shan tomorrow. Remember I told you about her? Her real name's Chauntaille - stupid name - Chauntaille Gruntworthy - even stupider! She was Head Girl when the whole Sixth Form got pregnant and the school burned down. Shan didn't get preggers, nor did her mate, Smegs, but the others all did. No doubt she'll tell me all about it. She's been at teacher training, and she goes down to Cat's at the start of the term for a spell of work experience or whatever they call it. She's another of these big ones. They had a funny thing at Cat's when I was watching the twins make that film, remember? 'And all their tits got bigger, especially that great tall black one, Naomi Greene-Hunter-Wellington, hers got ginormous. Well, Shan's as big as her now. Apparently, or so she said on the phone, a bunch of the younger girls got the same thing and they all grew huge, and started giving milk, for crying out loud. It's all sorted now, she says, but at least, our three don't need anything to make them any bigger, so they've got a head start! 'Jeez, I hope the same thing doesn't happen to them. It couldn't, could it?' 'See you soon - Tanya!' Pansy had biked down to the post box to post the letter. Suzanne would have offered to go, but she had a problem riding a bike. She could balance, and she could ride in a reasonably straight line, but bends caused her to fall off. It was something to do with her weight distribution. She could see Victoria about to dive into the pool. Her older cousin was a bit of a water-baby. Perhaps she was trying to shrink her boobs, Suzanne thought. Well, if they were going to shrink, they would have done by now. Instead, in the two years they'd been here in Herefordshire, Victoria's boobs had carried right on growing, the way a twelve-year-old's boobs had a tendency to do. Almost! In those two years, Sandy the bra maker had been on four more visits to keep the girls supported in the manner to which they had become accustomed. Grandma Trudy was Sandy's best customer, and certainly the biggest busted, but these girls were testing Sandy's ingenuity more and more. At least it was only their bras; their swimsuits could be handed down from one to another as they became too small for their owners. Suzanne, though, the biggest, had no use for a bikini any more, swimming had lost its appeal for the ten-year-old. A resounding splash marked Victoria's entry into the water. Not her best dive, but it wasn't easy, given her shape. Suzanne reached the edge of the pool and watched her cousin lazily swishing through the blue water to the handrail in the corner. She paused a while before climbing out, standing with her eyes closed while bubbles and ripples streamed around her body. Horny bitch, Suzanne thought; she was standing over the filter inlet where, if you got it right, a jet of water would do wonderful things to you between your legs. Victoria had evidently got it right. She was going to miss the pool next week, she spent half her life in there. I used to as well, sighed Suzanne to herself, looking down at herself. Her T-shirt bulged enormously over her breasts, but she ran a hand across her tummy, which was the reason she didn't go swimming now. It's only puppy fat, her mother had told her. Tanya said she had been the same at her age, or a little older perhaps. It would melt away in time. Suzanne couldn't wait that long. She was fat! Gross! She walked slowly round the pool to the steps, feeling her thighs rippling heavily as she placed her bare feet carefully on the warm paving. Not easy, when you can't see your feet. But she knew roughly where they were, she was used to it by now. "That was a good splash just now," she told Victoria as the girl came up the steps, tossing her wet hair back over her shoulders. "I slipped as I took off," Victoria grumped. "It hurt. My toe and my tummy." "Is that why you stood by the water jet for ten minutes, then?" "No," muttered the older girl defensively. "And it wasn't ten minutes, anyway." "No, more like five. How many orgasms can you have in five minutes, Toria?" She was envious of her cousin, who apart from her bust, was getting slimmer all the time, or so it seemed to Suzanne. "What's the matter, Suze? Davie not talking to you this morning?" Suzanne turned away without a word and set off for the house. Victoria watched her go, and sighed as she picked up her towel. What was happening? They seemed to be at each other's throats lately, the two of them. And they were going to be together at St Cat's for the next hundred years. Why couldn't they be friends as well as cousins? She watched her sister Pansy pedal vigorously up the drive and broadside to a halt, parking the bicycle on its side with the front wheel still spinning. Suzanne saw Pansy coming, too, and stepped up her pace to avoid her. When Victoria came up to the house, Pansy was waiting for her. "What's up with Suze these days," the young girl asked. "She ignored me just then." "Not ignored," said Victoria, "she avoided you." She took Pansy's hand and they went indoors. "I don't know what it is either, but Auntie Tanya's noticed it too. I've seen the way she looks at her." "I only want us all to be friends again," Pansy said quietly. "Especially with next week coming." The other girls thought of Pansy as their little sister and their little cousin. Always 'little'. She was three months older than Suzanne, but you'd never believe it if you went by their physical appearance and development. Not that Pansy was undeveloped, nor even underdeveloped for a ten-year-old. On the contrary. She didn't *need* one of Sandy's custom bras - she could wear a standard size 32D - but Grandma Trudy had told Sandy to fit her at the same time as he measured the other girls, so as not to make her feel left out. Sandy had shrugged expressively and got on with it, and the bras he made were certainly more comfortable. But Pansy felt so much smaller than the other two. She was the same height as Suzanne, but her bust was tiny by comparison. She was four inches shorter than Victoria's five feet five, and Victoria, while nowhere near Suzanne's bust size, was still well over forty-four inches. "I don't want to go to our bedroom, in case she's there and she shouts at me," said Pansy. "Leave her to it, then. Go and see if Nana Trudy's in the kitchen. Maisie's gone shopping." Pansy brightened and headed for the kitchen as Victoria made for her bedroom, towelling her hair. "Well, hello, honey! Did you get to the post in time?" Trudy was involved with a cream cake, piping an elaborate pattern on top with an icing bag. Pansy watched her, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. "Yes, Nana. The van came round the corner just as I put the letter in the box. What you making?" "Something special for tea. Miss Gruntworthy's going to be coming back from Shrewsbury with your Aunt Tanya tomorrow, and she's sure to be starving if she's been at college. So this is one of Suzanne's favourite cream cakes!" "It's my favourite, too, Nana. In fact," she said, "it's more my favourite than Suzanne's now. She says she's gone off food!" Trudy had noticed, all right. Poor Suzanne's hormones were a problem right now, for sure. Tanya had told her the other day that her daughter was exactly the way she herself had been after she started developing.Big boobs, then puppy fat, then even bigger boobs. The only difference between Tanya and Suzanne was that the girl was even more advanced than her mother had been. And now, going off her food. Whatever next! Well, if this cake didn't change Suzanne's mind when she saw it disappearing down her cousins' throats, then there really was a problem! She squeezed out the last of the cream in a triumphant dollop, then dipped her finger into the icing bag. There was a time when I'd have finished this cream off myself, she thought, as she held her finger out to Pansy. The girl took it gratefully into her mouth, her eyes closed. "Ooooh, thank you, Nana!" Davie came into the kitchen just in time to witness the little scene. Pansy's hands were behind her back, her feet were together. She was bending forward from the waist, and her cut-off jeans had ridden up at the back. They were tight under her firm little buttocks. To him, it seemed incredibly erotic, watching the girl sucking her Nana Trudy's creamy finger. But then, to Davie, most things were incredibly erotic right now. He had hoped to find Clarrie in the kitchen, but if she hadn't been, Suzanne would have done almost as well. And if Suzanne hadn't been there, Victoria would have been an excellent substitute. And even if Victoria wasn't there, little Pansy would be more than adequate. Davie considered himself a tit-man, and for a tit-man, there could have been nowhere, no house in the entire country better suited to his needs. He gazed at Pansy with brimming lust. Her thrustingly full sweat-shirt, her shorts stretched so tight between her legs that it left nothing to the imagination. All Davie needed to imagine was the amount of hair Pansy had down there. Was she sparsely furred and blonde, like her sister, or densely-forested like Suzanne? He had never managed to see for himself. He'd tried often enough, hovering in corridors so he could accidentally pass the girls' bedroom doorways just as the door opened. The girls knew all about Davie, of course, and took delight in slipping in and out of their bedrooms just when he was lurking outside, so he could catch tiny fleeting glimpses of them. He knew Victoria's and Suzanne's pubic details from a walk in the fields earlier in the summer, when the girls were still good friends. He had followed them at a discreet distance, hiding behind hedges and bushes, his feet making not the slightest sound. Not a twig cracked to mark Davie's passage through the woods as he tracked the girls to a clearing. They had been laughing and giggling, nudging and pushing each other all the way. They were making so much noise that an elephant could have tracked them without attracting their attention. And when they sat on a fallen log and took their T-shirts off, Davie almost fainted from shock. He had died and gone to heaven! It never occurred to him to wonder why they had come all the way out to the woods just to get undressed. He had been on the verge of directing a spurt of hot semen into the concealing bushes before him when the two girls had stood up and stretched in an exaggerated manner, before dropping their shorts. Oh, my God, Davie thought, stopping himself just in time, although it took a firm squeeze to prevent an explosion down there. He silently thanked Clarrie for teaching him this technique. The huge-breasted cousins wore no panties. They posed before him, apparently inspecting each other intimately. They weren't more than five yards from him, and he could see every detail of the girls' glistening sex. He could hold out no longer. Jet after jet of steaming jism sprayed the bushes, as Davie grunted helplessly. It was minutes before he pulled up his pants with trembling hands and melted silently away into the undergrowth. "Did he see, do you think?" Victoria sighed, after the crashing sounds of Davie's retreat had finally died away. She wriggled her hips as she tugged up her shorts and nestled them into her warm groin. Suzanne was inspecting the bushes. "Did he see? Look at this bloody lot! A waste of a gallon of perfectly good come. I could have been slurping that instead of him tossing it away!" Reluctantly, she stepped into her shorts and heaved her T-shirt over her head. "Better be getting back, then," said Victoria. "Yeah." Davie would probably remember the little scene for the rest of his days. The cousins had found it less satisfying. They had walked back more quietly, in gathering silence, in fact. And since then, although they still found pleasure in surprising Davie when he thought he wasn't being observed, they made sure the sixteen-year-old never saw anything again ... Davie came back to the present with a start. "What?" he said. "Wake up, dozy Dav-eee!" Pansy laughed. "I said, do you want a bit?" and the girl wiggled erotically across the kitchen with a little finger held out to him, a finger-full of cream. She came right up close and offered the finger to his lips, the nipple-crowned tips of her big breasts in her clingy sweater, just softly brushing his stomach. He groaned involuntarily as Pansy grinned at him and slid the finger into his mouth. It was warm, and it wriggled. Eventually, she took it out, to his regret, and wiped it on his cheek. "There!" she said. "Nice?" "Yes, thanks, Pan!" She giggled again, and pressed herself lightly against him before spinning round and dancing out of the kitchen. "See you later, Davie. Thanks, Nana!" she said as she went out of the back door into the sunshine. "Were you looking for someone, Davie?" Trudy looked at him with her head on one side. "Oh, no, not really," the boy stammered, edging away. "Clarrie's gone into town with Sir Roger. She will be back in half an hour, I'll tell her when she comes in, then." "Oh, good! I mean, thanks, ma'am." And he shot away, managing to adjust his groin once he was safely out of the kitchen and half way up the back stairs. Horny little bugger, thought Trudy. Although he'd have to be made of stone not to get aroused by that Little Miss Innocent Pansy feeding him whipped cream off her finger with her big tits squashed against his cock! And SHE'S supposed to be the one who doesn't chase after boys!In this position, he could think of Suzanne. Two years ago, had it been? True, it hadn't happened since, but he could still recall the sweetness of the young girl's bikini pants as she perched her cute little bottom on his face beside the river. "Ooooh, Suzanne!" he gurgled. Fortunately, Clarrie couldn't hear him. Suzanne was much nearer to Clarrie in overall build right now. The girl had really poured on the puppy fat these past few weeks. That time he had watched the young cousins in the woods, back in June, Suzanne had been almost as slim as Victoria. Now, her waist must be at least as big as Clarrie's. And her breasts, the last few weeks, were getting enormous! The thought took him closer to the edge, and Clarrie expertly controlled his imminent ejaculation. Here we go, he thought, but it never happened. Clarrie could keep him simmering like this for half an hour. He closed his eyes, prepared to die for the cause. He survived, of course. Clarrie saw to that; she needed him too much to gobble him up like a female spider. Down below, Suzanne lay glumly on her bed and listened to the creaking of the bedsprings in the room above her head. She could picture the scene. Clarrie would be on top, of course. What boy would ever want a fat pig like me, now, she thought, resting her hand on her pudgy tummy. Her breasts rolled to each side of her chest and rested on the bed beside her like a couple of strangers. Tears came to her eyes. Why do I have to look like this just when it's time to go to a new school? They'll all laugh at me. It will be as bad as it used to be. She rolled onto her side and curled up in a ball, sobbing. She never heard Pansy come into the room. Pansy looked at her cousin and almost went over to sit beside her. She wanted to comfort the big busty girl. But Suzanne didn't seem to like her anymore. She picked up her bikini off her bed and slipped silently out of the bedroom. Victoria was glum, too. It was only a few weeks ago. It seemed to have started round about the time they'd gone to the woods and showed themselves to Davie. It had been Suzanne's crazy idea, but it sounded exciting, so she'd gone along with it. And Davie had followed them, crashing through the undergrowth like a herd of buffalo trying to keep up with them. She remembered how they had stripped their shirts off, then their shorts, and all the time, Davie was wanking away behind the bushes. Even now, remembering that it had been a sad thing to do, it still excited her to think that Davie had been looking at them and wanking. It meant that he wanted to fuck them. To take them to his bedroom and for them to sit on his face and even bounce up and down on his belly. She thought about Clarrie doing it to Davie. Suzanne was nearly as fat as Clarrie now. If only they could still be friends like they used to be. She felt a lump in her throat, and lay down on her bed, face down. Crying felt good, somehow. It made her feel really sorry for herself. What's wrong with everybody, Pansy thought. She had only slipped into her sister's room to see if she was going for a swim, and *she* was crying, too! All these people crying all over the place. Trailing her bikini behind her, she wandered into the conservatory, where Nana Trudy was snipping bits off a plant. "Oh, Pansy, just what I wanted. Be an angel and find Clarrie for me, will you? Tell her Maisie's called from the town and she's going to be late, so I need her to start the vegetables for dinner." "All right, Nana," said Pansy dutifully, and headed for the back stairs. She'll be in Davie's room, she thought, she's always in there. Pansy was right, of course. She pounded on the door and shouted. "Clarrie? It's Pansy. Nana needs you to start dinner." A groan of dismay came from inside. Two minutes later, Clarrie came out, buttoning her blouse, her face tight with frustration. "What is it this time?" she asked fiercely. Pansy backed away. "Maisie's been held up in the town. She asked if you can do the vegetables. I'm sorry, Clarrie, it's not my fault!" The maid looked angry, then her face changed. She grinned at Pansy and pinched her cheek between a thumb and finger. "I'll come and interrupt *you*, one day, see how you like it!" she said, and bounced away downstairs, singing to herself. At least, she's happy, Pansy thought, and turned to go downstairs. Then she thought of Davie, alone in his bedroom. I wonder if *he's* unhappy, she thought. Everybody else is. And before she knew it, she was in the boy's room. "Aaaagh!" he squawked, stuffing his cock back into his shorts. "Creeping about like that. You nearly made me shit myself!" "Sorry, I thought you might be sad after Clarrie left. Toria's crying. So's Suzanne!" "Why? What's up with them?" He dragged the bedcover to try and hide his undisciplined groin. "Dunno. They're unhappy. Suzanne's fat and not talking to anybody, and it's upsetting Toria. That's why I came in. I wanted a cuddle." Her voice tailed away to a whisper. She stood there, her toes turned in toward each other, pouting slightly, just looking at him. Davie was conscious of his recently abandoned erection making a comeback. A big comeback. Oh, shit! Pansy gave no sign of even noticing it, although it was waving around like a flag of truce. At last, she sat next to him on the bed, and put her arm round his waist. Her big breast squashed against his arm. It felt burning hot. "Do you want a bit?" she said softly. "What?" he screamed and jerked away from her. "A bit of cream," she said, "what did you think I meant? Look, pretend cream on Pan's little finger!" She offered her finger to his lips, and it slipped inside. His stomach gave a lurch, then hung upside down in his belly. The finger traced its way round his mouth, touched his tongue, then withdrew. Pansy's arms were around his neck, pulling him down. She wasn't as strong as Clarrie, but she was pretty determined. Her lips were soft and hot. Sheee-it, where did she learn THAT? And he was borne backwards on to his bed, as Pansy climbed on top of him, her breasts squashing against his naked chest. He felt their firm bulk through the sweater and Sandy's Patent Industrial-Strength Bra. God, she was bigger than he'd thought. Her tongue flickered like a serpent's; in and out of his mouth, into his eyes, his ears. Oh, my God. She's not even touched me down there and I'm coming! And he did, copiously, untouched by human hand. "Pan, darling!" he sighed into her ear as she squirmed against him. Hey, this is ALL RIGHT, she thought. If I'd known it would be like this, I wouldn't have waited until I was ten! "Lie still, darling," she whispered. And slowly stood up. She quickly dropped her cut-off jeans and panties, and before Davie could protest, she flopped her bottom down on his face. "Oh, no, not another of these bloody perverts," he muttered indistinctly, then realised that this one was the sweetest and most fragrant of them all. And ten minutes later, Pansy realised what all the fuss was about. That felt nice, she thought, like when you lie on your tummy and think rude things. Only this time it was a whole lot more so! At last, with a warm, drowsy feeling of contentment spreading through her young loins, she leaned forward and opened her mouth as wide as it would go. Suzanne had got the bloody thing in, it must fit, she told herself, and tried again. It went suddenly, and her eyes opened wide as it slithered inside, making her gag as it reached the back of her throat. At the same time, her nose and mouth made contact with his pubic hair, still sticky and wet with fifteen-minute old semen. "Yacchhh, what's that?" she squealed, withdrawing suddenly, and none too carefully. Davie screamed as her sharp little teeth zipped along the stiff length of his cock. "What's what?" "All this wet stuff? Have you BEEN?" "Been?" "Yes, you've BEEN, haven't you?" "I've come, if that's what you mean. While you were kissing me." "Come, been, what's the difference! You've made me pregnant!" And Pansy stood up, sobbing, her breasts heaving as she found her cut-off jeans on the floor and pulled them on. "Pan, what's the matter? Where are you going?" "You've made me pregnant, that's what's the matter! I'm going to tell Nana!" "Pan, no! Don't go, please. Let me explain!" But she was gone. Davie rolled on to his back and closed his eyes. Girls! What had he done to deserve all these girls? Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something pale pink on the floor. With a low moan, he reached out and picked it up, sniffing it tentatively. He only needed about a dozen strokes this time. Chapter 3:- Coming Or Going? Nana Trudy wasn't anywhere to be found downstairs. Clarrie was in the kitchen, but Pansy didn't really want to discuss it with Clarrie. It might lead to trouble, she felt instinctively. Victoria's room was empty. So was her room. Not even Suzanne was there now. She flopped face downwards on her bed. Pregnant! And nobody loves me. I want my Mummy. "Nana says we've got to get changed for dinner," whined Suzanne petulantly, bursting into the bedroom. "She only makes us put dresses on because she knows I look fat and horrible!" At least she admits that much, thought Pansy into her pillow. She sat up. "You got that new dress at the weekend," she said. She drew the line at saying Suzanne looked nice in it. Her cousin flopped down on to her bed, her huge breasts bouncing down on to her thighs and staying there. She looked at Pansy for the first time, and saw the tears on her face. "What's up with you?" she said, aggressively, as if she was the only one allowed to be unhappy.Pansy swallowed. "Shall I say it?" "I went to Davie's room," she said in a voice of doom. Suzanne sat up straight and looked interested. "Yeah?" she said cautiously. "Yeah! Nana wanted Clarrie, and I had to fetch her. They were in his room. Well, she came out, doing up her blouse." Suzanne leaned forward eagerly, quivering like a puppy. "Go on." "And I went in. He was on his bed, and he was ever so sad, so I sat next to him. Then I gave him a cuddle, and we talked for a bit, and I pretended to give him a dollop of cream..." "You WHAT?" "I pretended to feed him a blob of whipped cream, on my finger, like this." She got off her bed and went over to Suzanne's to demonstrate. "I put it in his mouth..." Suzanne's eyes were like saucers. Pansy's technique sounded quite exciting. It felt quite interesting, too. It wriggled inside her mouth. "...and then I kissed him!" Pansy drew the line at demonstrating that to her cousin. "You did what?" "I kissed him. All wet, it was, but it still felt nice." Suzanne shuddered a little. "Anyway, while I was kissing him he started moaning and so I thought I'd try sitting on his face..." Gasp. "You mean...fucking...?" "...so I took my shorts off and got on him, and he was moaning..." "What did it feel like?" "Sort of itchy. In my, you know. Like when you lie on your front and think rude things." Suzanne nodded in approval. "Yeah, that's right." She knew all there was to know about thinking rude things. "And after a few minutes, it felt, like Wow!" "Wow?" "Wow!" said Pansy firmly. "Wow!" whispered Suzanne. "But then I got pregnant!" "YOU WHAT?" "I'm not saying it again," Pansy said, shame-faced. "You got pregnant? What happened?" "I got his thingie, and put it in my mouth..." "Still sitting on his face?" Suzanne asked anxiously. "Of course!" "Good. Go on." "And I got most of it in. All of it," she said, with modest pride. "But it was all wet and sticky round the end. The bottom end, where it joins on. And I asked him if he'd been, and he said..." "Been? Been where?" "That's what *he* said. What's the matter with all you people? He went. He'd gone!" "He'd gone?" "That's right. He'd been, and done it. So I'm pregnant." She started to sob again. Suzanne thought about it for a few minutes. Something wasn't quite right. "Do you mean he'd come?" she said at last. "That's what I said, isn't it? That's what I've been trying to tell you." "He came inside you?" said Suzanne, in hushed tones. "No, it was while I was kissing him, he said." "And while he was kissing you, while you were kissing him, where was his thingie?" Pansy looked surprised at the question. "In the usual place. Where else would it be?" "It wasn't inside your front bottom, then?" "Urggghhh, Suze. You're so GROSS, sometimes. That's what I hate about you!" "I don't think he can make you pregnant unless he puts it in your front bottom, Pan. I know it sounds horrible," she said sympathetically, "but it's something we women have to live with. Let's ask somebody. We'll ask Nana at dinner time. She's a woman." "Do you think that's the best time, Suze? To talk about thingies and things?" "Well, afterwards, then. Trust me. I'll ask when the time is right, okay?"Pansy went pale and bright red at the same time, or so it felt to her. "I don't know what you mean," she mumbled. "Davie says you kissed him, and sat on his face. What else?" "What else? What do you mean?" "What else did you do to my Davie?" Pansy thought back. Her usual policy was to tell the whole story, in full detail. She took a deep breath. "We were in the kitchen, and Nana was making a cream cake, and she gave me a finger-full of cream, and I asked Davie if he wanted a bit, so I gave him a finger-full in the kitchen, and later, in his bedroom, I asked him if he wanted a bit again, and I gave him another finger-full, but without the cream this time, then I kissed him, and it was nice, and he said I was good at it, so I sat on his face and bounced up and down and it felt Wow!" "Wow?" "Wow! And then I sucked his thingie, and it went right down my neck all the way into my stomach, but he'd been..." "She means he came..." "He CAME?" "... and I took him out of my mouth and put my sawn-off jeans back on and went back to my bedroom and cried because I'm pregnant and I've missed loads of periods..." Clarrie stared at the girl, backing away. She fumbled in the pocket of her overall, took out a scrap of pink and blue, and hurled it at Pansy. It draped itself neatly across her face. Then the buxom serving wench turned and ran off, across the drive and into the house. "I've been looking all over the place for these," said Pansy, weakly. "What was *she* doing with them? They wouldn't fit her." Suzanne inspected the slightly soiled undergarment. "These wouldn't even fit *me*!" She felt the material, sniffed it cautiously. It was damp, and stiff. "Hey, Pan, somebody's been coming in these!" "He's BEEN in them? Oh, the filthy rotten swine," she wailed. "Now I'm going to have twins!" Part II Chapter 4: This Is Where I Come In You remember me, of course! I have been referred to as the infamous Chauntaille Gruntworthy, but people are usually most disrespectful of public figures, as if we are common property. I mean, I've had a few boys at university, since leaving St Cat's, and lots more girls; but calling me common property is a bit rich. A public figure, though, I certainly am. I left St Cat's after the memorable performance of the school in the examination league table - when even with the entire Upper Sixth, apart from two girls, terminally pregnant; we cleaned up with a whole load of A's. I'm still not sure how we did it, and the Headmistress never told us. She suddenly left the country immediately after that, and although I received a postcard showing the Andes, we haven't *really* heard from her. There's a new Headmistress now. I haven't met her yet, but her name is Miss Thunderbolt, if I can decipher her signature. It seems an odd name, so perhaps it's something else. Thunderbox, maybe. I will be seeing her at the start of the new term, when I dip my toe into the waters of teaching, as it were. In fact, I don't dip my toe into anything, these days, at least, not when testing the temperature of bath water. My nipples are usually closer than my toes. More of them anon, though, I know you can wait. No, I am half way through my teacher training course, and I have a spell of on-the-job training in an actual school. Of course, once I found that St Cat's was on the list, I requested to be sent there, and I got my wish. The other funny thing that happened was that an old acquaintance, Tanya, said she'd like me to meet her little girl, who was enrolled for St Cat's. Well, my first reaction was; wait a minute, how can she be old enough? Tanya is only a year older than me, and for her to have an eleven-year-old child would mean that she'd been a very naughty little girl indeed. It turned out she hadn't been quite as naughty as I thought, because Suzanne was only ten. Anyway, Tanya came up to Shrewsbury the day before, to help me pack, then we went down on the train to Herefordshire to her Grandma's, where Suzanne and her two cousins had been receiving private tutoring. Well, my second reaction was; why did they need private tuition? Then Tanya told me the kids take after their mothers, know what I mean, and they were getting teased at school. Nuff said. I never got teased, because I developed late, and even when I started to get REALLY enormous, I was Head Girl by then, and they wouldn't dare poke fun at me. And at college, I carried on getting REALLY enormous. I mean, Tanya always had the biggest pair of tits I ever saw, but when we met at Shrewsbury, we both realised that she was now Number Two! Yep, I'm as big as that. And in my latest bra, the Boothroyd Ultra-Boomer Mark XIX, I looked even bigger. I was hoping and expecting to make a huge impression even at St Cat's, where most of the Fifth Form are still showing the effects of my ex-bestest friend Smegs and her boob-spray. At least, the school dairy has closed down now, and those girls who felt that their preferred career path lay in milk production were transferred to luxurious new purpose-built premises at Fillamore Deepleigh, where my other ex-bestest friend Baps runs an all-girl organic dairy farm. I hope to visit the village soon, to see my parents, I suppose, but also to see how Baps is getting on and to show her my breasts. I'm sure she'd be interested, although she does get very jealous, does Baps. Only a few of the school's other enterprises are still carried on. Of course, the highly-profitable soiled panties business has gone from strength to strength, as it were; aided by some tremendously exciting innovations in the field of fabric impregnation. The efforts of St Cat's have taken the United Kingdom to a fully-deserved position of world domination in the field of soiled panties. A richly-deserved position. As the school strives to stay ahead of the opposition, I am looking forward to working alongside the school's Sexual Chemistry Group which in recent months has perfected the StayMoist Crotch Insert, Pungentene Odour Enhancer and the cutting edge flagship product PheroMoan, details of which are still classified Commercial in Confidence. Built on the site of the former cricket pitch, the floodlit storage tanks of the panties factory, and its 200-feet high chimney dominate the countryside. The chimney belches highly sexually-toxic gases into the atmosphere, to be safely carried away on the prevailing winds in the general direction of Scandinavia, where they can do no harm. But St Cat's is not the hub of light industry it once was. There's a small cannery, turning out tuna and salmon in pure girl-juice. No additives. Just juice. But the Dr Valentine range of sexual products are no longer shipped in commercial quantities, and really, anyone who was there in the heyday of free enterprise would hardly know the old place now, apparently. We shall see. I understand that the male technical staff, Jeremy, Darren and the disco lad, are still there. Mercifully - or perhaps tragically - the bane of our lives when Smegs and I were at Cat's; Moggie Anderson, aka Dr Voluptua Valentine; was assumed to have perished in the disastrous fire which destroyed the school's historic buildings and netted me a cool 3,000 pounds in fees for the nude photographs I posed for by the light of the flames. I'd like to think with my present development I could command a much higher price, but I fear that my figure has subsequently become rather too 'specialised' for Page Three. C'est la vie! Now I've arrived at this imposing mansion in rural Herefordshire, I am beginning to wonder why I am being involved in this whole business. Thousands of new girls start at schools every year without having to be interviewed by ex-Head Girls. I had little enough to do with snotty little oiks of First Formers when I was at St Cat's. Wretched little things, always crawling naked around on Smegs's office floor, giggling and farting. What good do they do anyone? Mind you, I will be spending much of my time teaching First Form Science, so it will be necessary to get used to being near the dreadful creatures. And two of these kids will be in my class, the two small ones. I can imagine them, one skinny and one grossly fat, with grey vests and stringy, greasy, mouse-coloured hair... By the way, I'm taking over the narrative of this story from now on, so you'd better watch out. I met Grandma Trudy a while ago. Gosh! So far, the average bust measurement in this house must be nearly nine feet! The only man seems to be Sir Roger, who rushed off at high speed in a Range Rover five minutes ago, without being introduced to me. A servant girl was driving. Trudy is an American, for some reason which escapes me. She seems quite nice, though, despite that. She told me to fix myself a drink, and apologised that she had to go back to the kitchen because Clarrie had gone off to see to Sir Roger. So I poured myself what turned into a curiously large Scotch and was sitting on the couch with my breasts resting on my knees and overflowing down the sides, when Tanya came in. "I thought I'd wear my new frock," she said, giving a twirl which was perhaps a mistake as she knocked an expensive-looking vase off an occasional table with her tits. To her credit, she pretended not even to notice as it smashed into a thousand priceless shards on the parquet floor. She'd changed her bra, which made her look almost as big as me. Almost, Tanya, but not quite, I thought. "It suits you. The yellow brings out your eyes," I complimented her. "Do you think so?" and she studied her reflection with her head tilted. "The girls will be down in a few minutes. They're just making themselves beautiful."Make it another three hours then, I thought, when the door opened and a youthful girl's face peered round it. "Pansy, come on in, love," said Tanya. "This is my niece, Pansy. Pansy, this is Miss Gruntworthy." "How do you do, Miss," she said. "Very well, thank you, Pansy," I replied. In fact, the girl was a pleasant surprise. She was quite attractive, in a sickly-sweet kind of way, and her blonde hair had been tied in two neat plaits at the sides of her head. Her bare shoulders were a little off-putting, but there was no denying the appeal of her full breasts, which were displayed to some advantage by the low neckline of her dark blue velvet dress, which flowed in soft folds over her still-burgeoning hips and buttocks. "And here's Victoria, Pansy's older sister," Tanya said. We greeted each other guardedly. It was a little unnerving the way both girls stared at my bust in such an overt manner. I stared back at Victoria's, which was almost bursting out of her blouse. I found myself wishing she had worn a brassiere, as the dark circles of her areolae were most disturbing, and when I averted my gaze, I found her short skirt almost erotic in a lewd kind of way. Perhaps it was the black fishnet stockings that did it. "And this is my daughter Suzanne!" "Gosh!" I said, involuntarily. It was as well the girl was substantially overweight, or I might have been tempted to take her to one side and make energetic and sopping wet love to her. She was wondrous, truly wondrous. Her bust was even bigger than Victoria's, by at least six inches, I guessed, and it wobbled in a most blancmange-like manner. All in all, these three would uphold the St Cat's tradition, I felt. It was a pity the old Headmistress wasn't around to see them and to offer them intensive counselling on the floor of her office, but perhaps the new Head would do that instead. A gong sounded somewhere out in the hall, and Trudy appeared at the door. "Dinner is served, ladies! Sir Roger regrets, unfortunately, that he has been delayed. Not that he needs any delay spray these days..." At least, that's what it sounded like, sotto voce, as she turned to show the way to the dining room. ********** The conversation was quite civilised, which made a change from the teachers' training college, where it tended to centre on pubic areas, although it occasionally gravitated to the Struggle, at which point I invariably switched off. After two years, my fellow students had given up trying to convert me to the time-honoured Marxist-Leninist principles of teaching, and their modern-day offshoot, the Green Movement. "If you hate people so much, why do you want to teach children?" I had asked, quite early on in my stay at the college. "But Chauntaille, that's the whole point!" they insisted, and laughed in a strangely disturbing manner, rather like sneering out loud. "And don't call them children," added my roommate, "they're kids." My roommate was called Max, an embittered, hollow-chested creature with shaven sideburns and a strange taste in aftershave. Once Max discovered I was into girls as well as boys, she erected a barricade of chairs and mousetraps across the room to keep me away from her two-thirds of it. She could have saved herself the trouble; I was happier wanking. It really offended Max to have to watch my tits grow for two whole years. I can tell you, it was a pleasure to get back to some decent, civilised dinner-table conversation again. "...and Pansy left her panties in Davie's room..." Suzanne was telling her mother, who sat spellbound and open-mouthed. So was everyone else, so I made a quick adjustment to my facial muscles and joined them. "...and they were all stiff, and quite moist when Clarrie gave them back to her..." I wondered if she still had them, I could send them to the Sexual Chemistry Group for analysis. "...so now she's pregnant, with twins." "I've missed a whole load of periods," said Pansy, ominously. "Since yesterday afternoon?" Tanya asked. "Yes. Is it bad news, Nana Trudy?" "Sounds real bad!" said Trudy. "I think when you get to school, the medics ought to give you a good check-over," and she looked at me for confirmation. A First-Former who was expecting twins, having missed several periods in twenty-four hours certainly needed medical attention, I thought. "I'll see she gets it. And of course, all our girls receive intensive sex education, although with these three, it may be a little too late to do any good." The girls sat with their eyes downcast, too mortified even to eat. Even though they had all had hands-on sexual experience, and the younger ones had even sat on a boy's face and inhaled his boyhood; this teacher was now telling them they were too old to learn about sex. Life had truly passed them by. "Never mind, girls, I'm sure you can catch up with the rest of the class, if you work extra hard at your sex." "Oh, we will, Miss," said Pansy. "It's really one of my favourite subjects!" "And mine!" "And mine!" Chapter 5:- Thunderbolt, Labia And Fanny Miss Thunderbolt's office was in the new Voluptua Valentine Memorial Building, on the upper floor. I felt like a junior girl going to see the Headmistress for her very first official spanking as I crept along the polished floor, trying not to let my high heels make too much of a clicking noise. I could still escape and run away if I chickened out at the last second. The outer office door was open, and a secretary looked up from her terminal as I appeared in the doorway, my breasts projecting over her desk. I turned slightly sideways and looked around them. Ah, there she was. "You must be Miss Gruntworthy," she said, goggling cross-eyed at the nearer of my nipples, which was pressing lightly against her nose. I backed away a step or so to avoid violating her personal space. "Miss Thunderbolt is expecting you." "It is Thunderbolt, then," I said. "I couldn't believe it when I read the letter." "Couldn't believe what?" The secretary looked blankly at me. "The name. Thunderbolt. It's a bit unusual, isn't it?" "No, not really." She turned on her swivel chair and reached up to a shelf. To my amazement, she took down a dictionary and consulted it. She brightened. "No, here it is ...Thunder ... thunder-blast ... thunderbolt ... 1440, one, 'ay supposed bolt or dart formerly (and still vulgarly) believed to be the destructive agent in a lightning-flash when it strikes anything: Myth; an attribute of Jove, Thor..." "Erm..." I stopped her, she showed signs of going on for some time. She looked up at me in some surprise. "It is quite a normal word, in everyday usage, as you see..." "But not a name, though!" "But it's NOT unusual, you must admit." This conversation was in danger of becoming a little unusual in itself. "Is she in, then?" "Who?" "Miss Thunderbolt?" "I'll just check..." She picked up a telephone, still looking up at my face. "A Miss Gruntworthy to see you... yes... yes... it *is* an unusual name, isn't it?" "Erm..." I wanted to stop her before she started looking me up in the dictionary. "I'll show her in then." "Miss Thunderbolt will see you now." I went in through the green baize-covered door. The headmistress's desk was in front of the window. A figure stood silhouetted against the light, looking out across the playing fields like a scene from a second-rate movie. I walked slowly to the desk. There was one chair on my side, but I stood, waiting. The figure slowly turned. I saw a slim woman with startlingly blonde hair arranged in an oddly dated bouffant style, as if she came from Dagenham or Brentwood. Her jaw dropped as she saw my bust. I was used to this reaction, and took my customary deep breath, turning slightly for the full effect. "Fuck me, Chauntaille, you're a big girl now, aren't you!" I knew the voice. It struck at my vitals like an ice pick. Miss Thunderbolt took a step or two to one side to get a better look at my profile. At that instant, as the light from the window fell on her face, I knew her. "Miss Anderson, er, Miss Valentine! Moggie!" "Ella Wheeler Thunderbolt," she greeted me, extending an icy cold hand. "I'm sure you remember the name now?" "Miss Thunderbolt, of course." "An unusual name, but some would disagree." She walked round her desk, looking me up and down. "Bloody hell, you've got some tits, and no mistake!" she touched one, and it wobbled. "The real thing, too, not implants." "You can't get implants this size, Miss. No demand for them, apparently." "No, I suppose not. Well, this is a pleasant surprise! Quite like old times. Well, not quite," she said, glancing down at her own chest significantly. "Where are yours, Miss?" "Oh, mine." She seemed to notice their absence for the first time. "I had a little operation. They took away most of them, and left me these. 34E," she said proudly. "I never found out what they did with the stuff they removed..." "But, Miss, why? And how did you escape from the fire...?" "Ah, yes, the fire. You all waved to me as I stood silhouetted against the flames, I remember, but I didn't perish. Oh, no! I had an escape route planned. It nearly failed, when a girder fell from the roof, but my breasts saved me!" "Your breasts?" "It must have been the excitement. The milk came in with a huge rush, and I was able to spray the blazing timbers which were blocking my path. The copious quantities of my breast milk, and the ejaculate squirting from my freshly-shaven pussy were sufficient to douse the flames and I leaped to safety." A likely story. Who writes this shit? "The truth, Chauntaille, is less enthralling. But I escaped, with most of my money, and lay low for a while.And then, a little operation, a new hair-do; I had it done in a little place in Essex, what do you think?" "It suits you, brings out your eyes..." "Thank you, Chauntaille. And I was ready for my new persona. Ella Wheeler Thunderbolt. No, don't ask why." I wasn't going to. "There was a warrant out for my arrest. Every detail. Even my measurements..." "Aren't you taking a risk, telling me all this?" "A calculated risk. But they're looking for a different woman, not me. As I said, every detail, even my measurements; 120-20-34!" "But... but those are MY measurements, Miss!" "Are they really? What a curious coincidence! But there must be thousands of women in this country with those measurements. Although, to be on the safe side, it would be as well if you were to stay away from the police, wouldn't it, Chauntaille? Don't worry, I won't turn you in. I'm not one to spill the beans on an old friend who has been so good to me in the past." "Thank you," I said, feeling a choking sensation in my throat, as if I was trying to swallow an extra large cock. "Good. We understand each other. My God, you're ENORMOUS, Chauntaille. You really must show me those things. Not now..." she said hastily as I reached for my blouse buttons, although as they were much closer to her then to me, I would normally have asked her to undo them. "Later, perhaps. I look forward to the pleasure. But for now, if you would please take up your duties. I have attached you to Miss Albert-Ross. Don't shoot her, it will bring bad luck. Sorry, my little joke. An unusual name, but some would disagree. On your way out, see Miss Labia." "Miss Labia?" "My secretary. Unusual name, isn't it?" ********** Miss Albert-Ross was relatively new herself. In fact, all the teaching staff had been replaced since I had left. It happened quite suddenly, people said. A pity, in view of the school's dramatic success in the exam results. A success which had not been repeated, I discovered. St Cat's had slumped to a mediocre 874th in the countrywide league tables, with not one of the examinees managing better than a D grade. It was going to be a long and tedious climb before we emerged on to broad sunlit uplands. She was a pretty woman, with a bouffant blonde hairdo. Now I came to notice it, all the staff wore their hair this way, including Miss Labia. I supposed they had an account with the same hairdresser. Miss Albert-Ross's breasts were fairly large, I noticed. I tend to notice these things for some reason. They were about the size of cantaloupes, I supposed, as I ran my hands over them through her sheer silk shirt. She opened her eyes and thanked me effusively. We rearranged our clothing and resumed our walk across the quadrangle, watched incuriously by dull-eyed Juniors. "Morale seems low," I ventured. "You can say that again," said Miss Albert-Ross. I said it again. "Yes, you could say that," she said. "The girls are really in need of a good injection of something to stiffen them up." "Isn't there a Dr Valentine's product that would do that?" I asked. "Several, but they need something more than hormone treatment. They need a spark to trigger off the sexual powder-keg that lies just beneath the surface." "They need boys," I suggested, hopefully. "Do you think so? How revolutionary! We would normally advocate straight lesbianism. Golly! Boys!" She laughed. At least, that's what I assumed she was doing. Several of the girls turned, surprised at the noise. "It won't happen overnight," I warned her. "But I think what we need is a sexual counselling department right here on site at St Cat's." "You'll never get it passed by the Board of Governors," she sniffed. "As I say, it might take some time. But for the honour of St Cat's, it is worth it. Any sacrifice is worth it for the honour of St Cat's!" As I made this little speech, we had paused in our walk, and a small but respectful group of girls had gathered to listen. As I finished, I gazed down at their eyes, which strangely had taken on a gleam. Their little fists were clenched. They were animated. Their eager faces were upturned in admiration of this strange, monstrously-breasted teacher who didn't wear her hair piled up like a blonde bee-hive, but tied it in two pony-tails, one on each side of her head. For a brief moment, I felt a wave of something passing between myself and these junior girls. The moment passed, leaving them dead-eyed and bewildered as before, but I had reached them, however briefly, and I could do it again. Was this, then, teaching? It was unlike anything I had learned in two years. As the crowd dispersed, Miss Albert-Ross helped me with my blouse buttons, which had become unfastened in the passion of the moment. She admired my cleavage, almost three feet long and two feet deep between the vast scarlet cups of the Ultra-Boomer Mark XIX. I had to prise her head from between my breasts, and we needed to make a diversion to the staff room to fix her hair. ********** "Here's the timetable. You'll see you have a number of free periods, more than the full-time staff. This will help you settle in. Later, you may find you have less free time." Miss Albert-Ross toyed with my nipple as if she'd never seen anything like it. I suppose she hadn't. They are tiny, in comparison to what they are attached to, but they're still two inches long, which meant that Miss Albert-Ross could hold one in her fist. She did. It didn't feel too bad, so I let her carry on holding it. She burrowed around in the other bra cup, looking for the other one. A couple of the other teachers, watching, lent her a hand, and the gym teacher, in a sweaty grey leotard, dragged it out into the open with a cry of triumph. "It's mine!" she shouted. "S'not! It was my idea to play with her nipples, gerrof, yer stinking slag." "Who are you calling a stinking slag, you mare? I'll tell your new girl-friend all about you, you three-timing bitch...!" I detached both squabbling women from my nipples and piled them back into the bra cups. "There, all gone!" I said. They watched them disappear with deep sadness, and the gym teacher began to suck her thumb, her blonde hairdo sagging sadly down the sides of her damp red face. "That was your fault she took them away," she accused Miss Albert-Ross. "Now they're gone." She stamped her foot and began to sob. "Oh, fuck off," Miss Albert-Ross retorted. "Anyway, she's *my* student teacher. She's been attached to ME!" "That doesn't mean you're the only one who gets to fuck her. You've got to share her around. I'm telling Old Thunderbolt." "You daren't." "I do, so there. Just watch me!" "I'll tell her about you and old Labia." The gym teacher paled. "It's all lies," she said. "Nothing happened." "Huh! We'll see about that." "Huh." That seemed to be that for a while, as the two stopped snarling at each other. The fight over, the rest of the staff moved away to resume their various duties. Miss Albert-Ross turned back to the timetable. "So you start tomorrow with First Form Chemistry, okay?" she said, as if nothing had happened, although she was still panting heavily. "Right," I said confidently. "Look," I said after a pause. "I can't keep calling you Miss Albert-Ross. You can call me Chauntaille, or Shan for short. What's your name?" "Persephone," she mumbled. "All right, Persephone," I said. "Can I call you Fanny for short?" "You might as well, that's what the kids call me," she sighed. "Fanny Albatross." "It's a nice name," I told her soothingly. "It suits you." "Do you really think so?" she said, brightening. "Ooooh, yes," I gushed. "See!," she rounded on the gym teacher triumphantly. "I fuckin' told you it suited me, but you said it sounded stupid. It's you that's stupid, nyerrrrr!" The gym teacher pouted, her face crumpled, and she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. "That told her, the sweaty cow," I said encouragingly. I think Fanny and I could become really good friends. Chapter 6:- Use It Sparingly, If At All "My name is Miss Gruntworthy, and I am going to be taking you for Science this year". So far, so good. The First Formers sat attentively at their seats behind the long benches, the apparatus and Bunsen burners scattered before them like icons of progress. "I'll get to know you all in time, but meanwhile, we'll both be learning, not just yourselves. Now, this term is probably your first ever time in a laboratory, so things might seem a bit strange. But we're going to be doing something really useful, something that will make a profound difference to all your lives! Trust me on that!" Eager faces looked up at me. Trusting faces. I could see Pansy and Suzanne, sitting together at the front. The busty cousins had probably told their classmates about me already, and would be feeling superior because they knew Miss Gruntworthy personally. The rest of the class, I saw, looking around, was uninspiringly flat-chested. They showed no sign of even noticing that Pansy and Suzanne weren't the same as them. They hadn't even noticed *my* tits! That had decided me on my bold course of action. I hadn't planned it that way. It was just that from the moment I stood up in front of that class, I knew it as a fact: these girls need tits. And they shall have them, I thought. We have the technology, after all. The formula was mine. Before Smegs had parted from me at the railway station, she had tearfully handed me a piece of paper. 'The latest formula,' she had sobbed, 'use it sparingly, if at all!' I had hugged her through the open window as the train pulled out of the station with a sigh of brakes and a roar of powerful diesel engines.And as the London train roared away, I brushed away a tear and realized that Smegs was still crushed to my bosom. "You're on the wrong train," I pointed out to her, kindly. "Shit!" she said. So we had been obliged to make love for a further three hours until the next train arrived. A small but appreciative crowd gathered to watch us. A bright, intelligent, informed crowd, who made sensible and creative suggestions. Later in our performance, we even solicited requests, which Smegs and I did our very best to interpret to their satisfaction as well as ours... I dragged myself back to the present. The First Formers still hung on my every word, even though I had said nothing for the last five minutes. "But first things first. We must learn how to boil water." A chorus of groans went up. That was more like it. The class was reacting. This was what I had been led to expect by my tutors over the past two years. "Pour exactly one hundred millilitres of water into the conical flask on the bench in front of you..." It went off quite well. We boiled water for the whole afternoon, with only a few minor scalds and a notebook fire which was easily extinguished by rolling the owner of the notebook on top of it on the floor, which routed the flames at the cost of a few scorch-marks on the girl's new blouse. I even made her stop her ridiculous crying with a smart slap to her bare leg. I could sense the class's growing respect for me as the blow resounded round the lab, echoing glassily off the apparatus. The girl snapped out of her hysteria immediately and got on with her work. By the time the bell sounded, the class had boiled enough water to sink a battleship. "Write up your notes on the experiment by morning. I will be asking questions. Thank you, girls!" They filed out at about a hundred miles an hour, in search of food. Suzanne, I observed, used her enormously superior upper-body strength and weight to claim the lead at the first corner, a lead she would not be denied, I knew all the way to the queue in the cafeteria. I had a free evening, with no marking to do. I whipped out the old mobile phone and tried Smegs's number. It answered at the third ring. "Smegs? That you? It's me." ... "No, I'm at St Cat's. No, I'm teaching! Just finished in the lab." ... "One or two, but most of them are totally flat-chested." ... "Not bad! And guess who the new Headmistress is?" ... "You guessed! How did you know that? What do you mean, you were only joking?" ... "But she's not dead, she's Miss Thunderbolt!" ... "Thunderbolt." ... "Yes, I know." ... "It's not unusual at all," I said sharply, "1440, one, 'ay supposed bolt or dart formerly (and still vulgarly) believed to be the destructive agent in a lightning-flash when it strikes anything: Myth; an attribute of Jove, Thor...'" ... "I was only trying to tell you there's nothing unusual about the name Thunderbolt..." ... "Oh, sod you, too, then!" But she'd hung up on me! The cow. What was wrong with my ex-bestest friend? The phone rang and I answered. "And she's had her tits reduced!" ... "About an E cup. Tiny!" And so on. I don't need to bore you with my phone conversations. Of course, you have heard only one side of the conversation. One can only hope that readers will be able to work out for themselves what Smegs was saying in the silences from my end. I told Smegs we needed a moral-booster at the old school. Someone to give the girls something to live for, joie de vivre, esprit de corps, honi soit qui mal y pense... Fortunately, Smegs was at a loose end. "I've just got to get rid of these boys," she told me. There were five of them, apparently, in her flat, and it took a while to get them all thrown out, as each time she got rid of one, two more came clambering back in through the window. But at last, she called back and said she was packing her bag. "I don't know where you're going to stay, yet. I haven't even mentioned this idea to Moggie. Miss Thunderbolt." "I'll find somewhere, don't worry," she said. "And no worries about old thunderthighs. I'll remind her about the police and everything." "Oh, Smegs, you can't. That's why she had her tits reduced, the police were looking for someone with tits her size. But now, the only one with tits that size round here is me!" "What size?" she demanded acidly. "A hundred and twenty inches, why?" She'd hung up again, the stupid cow. It was the next day when Labia sent for me. "Miss Thunderbird wants you in her office right away," she barked down the phone. When I went over there half an hour later and knocked on her door, Labia jerked her thumb at the green baize, so I went in. "Smegs!" I shrieked. "The same," she said. "I thought I'd better come over and sort you out. Fuck me, Shan, look at the size of those things. Have you seen yourself lately?" "Oh, these, you mean? Give them another year or two, and they'll be REALLY big. I see yours are no bigger, then." "There's nothing wrong with mine," she shouted. She whirled round and snapped at Moggie, who had so far been looking from one of us to the other. "Is there?" "No, Megan, yours are just fine, Megan." "There, see, the Headmistress thinks so, too. And if she says so, and so does the Deputy Headmistress, then you're outvoted, Miss Gruntworthy." "The Deputy Headmistress?" I looked round. "That's me," said Smegs. "Chauntaille," said Moggie sweetly. "Let me introduce my new Deputy Headmistress. Miss Megan Mountains." "Megan what?" "Mountains. Not an unusual name at all, is it?" "It makes her sound like an exotic dancer." "I am," said Smegs. "I have been for eighteen months. What's more, I'm the only one with all-natural home-grown titties. No silicone, no saline, these puppies are all Megan's." Unnervingly, she vaulted lightly on to the leather-topped desk and began a slow grinding striptease. Moggie leaped up and went to a hi-fi in the corner and pressed a button. Appropriate music immediately began to thump out of the speakers. We watched Smegs for several minutes, to an accompaniment of tearing brass and clashing cymbals. "Do you want to see the rest?" she asked suddenly, stopping in mid-bounce. "We might as well," said Moggie, and I nodded in agreement. "Only it'll be extra. I need an extra twenty quid." We grumbled, but paid up, dropping the money into the moist fishnet stocking that Smegs held out to us. Only then did she continue. She jumped down off the desk as we applauded at the end, gathering her scattered clothes and dressing again matter-of-factly. "You're not qualified, how can you be a deputy headmistress?" I asked her as I helped her with her bra strap. "She's as well-qualified as me," said Moggie. "And she's just what we need to get St Cat's back on the map, sexually speaking. Miss Mountains will be teaching Sex, by the way. Pure Sex as well as Applied Sex. Sexual Studies. Sexual Art. The Science of Sex. Sexual Positions. Straight Sex. Curved Sex. Sex in the Kitchen, Sex in the Bathroom..." I stopped her before she reached the toilet. "I get the picture," I said. "Excellent! From now on, Miss Gruntworthy, you will take your orders from and report directly to Miss Mountains. As will the rest of the teachers. Miss Mountains will act as a buffer between myself and the rest of my staff." "Right?" said Smegs. "Satisfied?" "I suppose so." "Okay, we knew you'd understand. Just strip off, will you, please?" "Do what!" Smegs snapped her fingers at me. "Get yer fuckin' gear off. We wanna see those tits of yours." And I had no option but to undress in front of the two of them, right down to the Ultra-Boomer and beyond. At last, I stood on the desk with my tits bumping gently against my knees. The audience certainly seemed impressed. Their jaws hung open. At that very moment, the door opened and Miss Labia came in. She was impressed as well. I can tell these things. In fact, I had the very definite feeling of a good old-fashioned St Cat's Lesbian Orgy coming on. I could almost smell it. My nose rarely deceives me on these occasions. It was dark outside when the four of us staggered to our feet. "Shit, I'm gonna be late for the Methodist Young Shitting Wives Group," said Miss Labia, dressing frantically. She was another candidate for enhancement, like the First Formers. I shuddered at the sight of her. After she had gone, I outlined my plans to the other two. "I think straight breast enlargement is a little outmoded for a modern girls' school," said Smegs. She drew up a notepad and started making a list of points. "We need a unique selling proposition to attract a better class of parent. Now we've tried lactation, with some success, but it's messy and it's backup-intensive. We can grow the girls' tits, but we have to come up with something extra." All this removal of clothing had given me an idea. "How about strippers?" "How do you mean?" "You remember 'Fame'?" "You mean 'Fame, we gonna live forever...'" Smegs went into a dance routine while Moggie pressed another button and instantly found the right music. A brief karaoke followed. We stopped, panting. My tits stopped some minutes later. Smegs's eyes were alight with inspiration. And at that moment was born the St Cat's Academy of the Performing Arts. "SCAPA. I can see it now!" she crowed, her eyes on an imaginary neon-lit billboard. "SCAPA, the Home of Tease. We will turn out the best educated strippers the world has ever seen. With the biggest all-natural tits, of course!" "Of course!"Our girls will get their gear off before all the crowned heads of Europe," Smegs shouted. "A Billion Inches of Bust!" yelled Moggie. "I can see it now," Smegs was having a vision, and we leaned closer together. "Strippagrams! Striptease! Modelling! Porn Videos! Exotic Dancing! Lap Dancing!" "What's that?" I have led a sheltered life. "Sort of wanking with a girl on your lap." "Why?" "Fuck knows, but it's a living!" "Our girls can sit on yer face," I announced proudly, thinking of young Suzanne and Pansy. "Why?" said Smegs, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Why what?" "Why should our girls sit on people's faces? It sounds gross." "Trust me, the punters will lap it up." "Hmm. We'll have to see about that one." But their skepticism aside, I think I'm going to enjoy working for my new bosses. Part III Chapter 7: Firing And Hiring Smegs called a staff meeting for ten the next morning. The entire teaching staff, plus Jeremy, Darren and the disco lad gathered in the gymnasium, where the Maternity Unit had been housed for so many busy and productive months. "Who's looking after the kids?" I asked Smegs, as we waited outside for ten o'clock. "Shit knows. Not my problem. I only call meetings, I don't wipe teachers' arses for them." Moggie sat in the chair. It wasn't the only chair, but it was raised up above the others, balanced on a table so everyone in the room could see her. Smegs marched in, and I followed in her wake. A gasp went up from the assembled multitude. I suppose there were quite a few of the staff who hadn't yet seen me, and I had made sure that the Ultra-Boomer was cranked up to its maximum support setting. This had the effect of supporting my breasts almost horizontally in front of my chest. It is tiring on the back muscles and I tend to fall over rather frequently, but at the same time, it is rather spectacular. I glanced out of the corner of my eye to where our three male staff members were sitting, and was gratified by their response. At the first sight of Smegs, they looked at each other with their mouths open in amazement. At their first sight of me, they opened their mouths several inches more; and at their second glance at me they clutched instantly at their groins. In fact, Darren and the disco lad missed their own groins and grabbed each other's by mistake. It was some time before they noticed. Jeremy smiled up at me and I favored him with a wink. After all, we had presented each other with our virginities, all those years ago. In the back seat of a Jaguar, no less. Doggy fashion. Moggie rapped on the table for attention. For a moment, the whole edifice of her table and chair wobbled dangerously and Smegs and I darted forward to steady it. None of the teachers had moved a muscle to help, so we knew where they were coming from. They were plotting the downfall of the Bosses; the first phase of their Struggle against miserable pittance wages and only three months' paid holiday a year. "Ladies and Gentlemen," said Moggie. "Your attention please. Shortly I will introduce Miss Mountains, who is my newly appointed Deputy Headmistress. She may be known to a few of you." Her eyes flickered across the three boys, who were gaping again. An angry murmur had built up in the room. The word 'deputy' could be heard welling up like vomit from the angry ranks of militant throats. "I am concerned, as I am sure you must be, about the low morale among the pupils of St Cat's. Our girls are not happy. I look around me and I see sadness. St Cat's has a glorious past, and was always thought of as a model for schools which aspired to true greatness, especially in the field of entrepreneurism." Perfectly on cue, sneers appeared on the faces of the assembly. We were going to have trouble with this lot. Sack them, I thought. Plenty more teachers around. Start again with a clean sheet of paper. "And St Cat's made its greatest strides in entrepreneurism during the time Miss Mountains was a student here. I will hand over to her now, and I am sure she will have something to say which will be of interest to you." Smegs stood at the front of the hall and waited for silence. Eventually the jeers and catcalls died away. "I will be brief," she said. "We have work to do. It has been decided that St Cat's should make the most of the unique talents of its girls. With that in mind, we intend to launch a new venture, the St Cat's Academy for the Performing Arts, or SCAPA. We intend to turn out the best educated and most talented female artistes the nation has ever seen. We will require specialist teaching staff with experience in dramatic art, film and television, exotic dancing and striptease." An angry murmur was building up again. Smegs pressed on. "If any of you feel you are qualified to teach in these areas, please raise your hands ..." She looked about the hall. Not a hand was raised. Well, one was, but it was hauled down by its neighbors in a demonstration of militant solidarity. Smegs looked satisfied. "In that case, then," she beamed, "you're all fired! Please call at the school secretary's office and make the necessary arrangements. Thank you!" She stepped back and sat down. Uproar broke out. I can't think why. Surely, these people must have realized their performance was below par. Apparently not. They rose to their feet, stamping and jeering. Fists were raised. A huge, ornately-embroidered union banner came from somewhere and fluttered above their heads. Placards were waved, reading 'Mountains Out'. "Out, out, out!" they chanted with deep creativity and originality. We turned and walked out, Smegs, Moggie and I, followed by the three male technical staff, with worried expressions on their faces. "That doesn't apply to you three, of course," said Smegs. "Smegs, that was amazing!" I gazed at her in open admiration. "I was just thinking we ought to sack the lot of them, and you did!" "It came to me on the spur of the moment: I hadn't even thought of it until then. But it's great! We can get all new teachers, and start with a clean sheet of paper!" "My thoughts precisely," I said. Moggie looked stunned by these events. "Surely you can't sack them, just like that?" "I just did," said Smegs. "Gosh! If I'd know that, I'd have done it two years ago." We had reached the office. Sounds of rioting still came from the gym. Smegs turned to Jeremy. "Better call the police and get them slung out, Jez," she drawled. "Then start some rough costings for converting the gym into a theatre. Stage, curtains, dressing rooms, lighting, sound system ... all the usual stuff." The boys ran off, twittering like excited schoolgirls. "Shan, go round all the classes and dismiss them. Give them the rest of the day off, but get them together at tea time for an important announcement in the restaurant." "Yes, Megan!" and I scampered away, too. I hope I wasn't twittering like an excited schoolgirl, but you never know. ********** "Teachers, specialised subjects," Smegs barked. "Shout out some subjects we will need to recruit teachers for ..." It's called brainstorming, or something. "Maths, English, Science," I said. "I suppose so. Perhaps we could keep one of the old teachers on to do all that stuff. Who do you suggest, Moggie?" I raised an eyebrow at this familiarity, but Moggie hadn't noticed. "Fanny Albatross, probably," she said. "She's fairly harmless, militancy-wise, and she's a perfectly straight lesbian." "Good. We'll keep Fanny." Smegs made a note on her pad. "Now, Dance. Or perhaps we should call it exotic dancing. Send one of the boys out to buy a tit-mag or two. We'll find some big names and approach them." I picked up the phone and called Jeremy. "Got just the thing," he said, and minutes later he delivered a pile of dog-eared glossy magazines. "It was tits you wanted? 'Cos Darren's got a lot of Milking and the disco lad says he's got some Teenage Sluts ..." "No, tits are fine, Jeremy, thank you!" and I ushered him out. Moggie and Smegs were already buried in the magazines. "Oh, look at these, they're gross!" "She's fat. That's the only word for it. Fat!" "What about these?" "Big, but not as big as yours, even." "What do you mean, 'even'?" "No offence. I meant yours as opposed to Chauntaille's." Smegs glowered at us both. "We'll try her, anyway. Make a note of the name: Donna Dumbo." "Is that her real name, do you think?" I asked tentatively. "It might be, she is American after all," Smegs said. "It says she's billed as measuring 120-20-34." "That's the same as me," I said. "Let's have a look!" Well, they were big, all right, but not even a quarter the size of mine. "What about this one?" Moggie held out another magazine. "She's English," I said, "she might be cheaper!" "She's certainly bigger," Smegs sniffed. "Nearly as big as Gruntworthy." "They look too... perfect... somehow! As if they're not real." "We'll get her in for interview, we'll see if they're real or not. What's her name?" "Belinda Balloons," said Moggie. "Unusual name, you might say!" Coming from someone calling herself Ella Wheeler Thunderbolt, that was rich! "Now then," said Smegs. "Men!" "Men?" "You remember men, Shan-tail, darling? Tall things with willies?" "I remember men, Megan. If you must know, I can take them or leave them. But what about men? Why did you mention them at this moment of moments?" "We need men. Male teachers!" Moggie gasped at the sheer audacity of that statement. So did I. There had never been male teachers at St Cat's. Never ever. "But what would they *do*?" "Oh, the usual things.But even in class, there's so much they could teach the girls. And they could be essential when it comes to learning about lap-dancing. "How many do you think we'd need?" asked Moggie. Smegs looked round at her and me. "I think three would be ideal, don't you?" One each. I couldn't fault that at all. Male teachers would need careful handling in an all-female school. We three would act as a safety valve to prevent them running amok and screwing everything in sight. As long as we had a say in the selection process. "We'll need a very long short list," I ventured. "About a thousand," said Moggie, dreamily. We were all getting a little moist, just thinking about it. I could feel an orgy coming on, but it was getting dangerously close to tea-time. We had to brief the student body at tea-time. We all looked at each other. "Adjournment for a quickie?" suggested Smegs. We nodded eagerly. It was a quickie, but not quickie enough. We hurried into the restaurant five minutes late, fastening stray buttons. Moggie was hopping along behind, trying to struggle into her panties. She gave up and stuffed them up the sleeve of her jumper as we came to a halt and faced the eager upturned faces of the student body. Respect radiated in our direction, you could feel it like a warm glow. Although, thinking about it, the warm feeling might have been coming from somewhere else. "So there you are, girls." Smegs's voice was quiet, reassuring, confidential. The audience hung on her every word. "We are all going to learn together. Exciting new things, skills which will stand you in good stead as you go out into the wide world. As long as you have your bodies, girls, you will never be out of a job." I scanned around the faces of the girls. Some of them giggled and nudged each other. The hyperdeveloped Lower Sixth Form girls looked superior, peering down their noses at the other girls, cupping their enormous breasts. I looked around for the new girls. Pansy and Suzanne were sitting with Victoria. They looked puzzled. Their mothers had never mentioned exotic dancing and striptease. It must have slipped their minds. It sounded exciting, but worrying. Dancing might be difficult with such big breasts, they were thinking, I could tell. "There will be new teachers," said Smegs. "In fact, your old ones are already either gone, or are leaving at this very moment!" A cheer rang out. "Apart from Miss Albatross!" Hisses, jeers and catcalls. They were behaving like a bunch of teachers. "The new ones will be experts in their own fields. Some of them will be men!" A chorus of Ooooh's. Suzanne and Pansy brightened visibly, I noticed. "Your new timetable will be published tomorrow, although it will be a few weeks before we get into top gear. You will see unfamiliar subjects, like applied contraception, tassel control, lap-dancing, male masturbation techniques and fetish management. If any of these terms are difficult for you to understand, speak to Miss Gruntworthy. And if any of you are dissatisfied with the size of your breasts, remember, St Cat's is the home of Natural Breast Enlargement. Thank you girls, good luck and bon appetit!" As we turned and marched out of the restaurant, applause welled up and echoed around our heads. Smegs and I turned and smiled, waving our thanks. Moggie was still trying to get her panties back on. "That went off all right," said Smegs. "We'll be able to start interviews next week. Let's get on the phone to all these names we've got." "I've put my heel through the crotch of these panties," said Moggie. "They were brand new, too." "Don't throw them away," cautioned Smegs. "They're running a special line in the pantie factory. Apparently some customers have requested holey crotches as well as fluid contamination." "What on earth for?" I said. Smegs just looked at me in that pitying way that always makes me feel so inadequate. "If you need to ask, you'd be better off not knowing," she said. "Who have we got today, then?" I asked Smegs. We had been interviewing for three days, with mixed success. Half of the applicants were totally unsuitable: they seemed to think we wanted school teachers. I can't think where they got that idea. She consulted her list. "Two this morning, two in the afternoon. And one this evening. First one's a man, used to be in a TV soap, written out after a disagreement over political bias ..." "Sounds okay to me ..." "Then there's a woman, bisexual, tap-dancing, soprano, plays keyboard instruments, IQ of 148, hairdressing, computer skills, tennis, squash, swimming, karate, dog-training, Honours Degree in Lesbian Studies at ... can't read her writing, some University or other, sent a Polaroid ..." "What are her tits like?" I reached out for the picture. "Hmm, not much up top." "No, but she's a good all-rounder apart from that." "We won't write her off just like that, if she's any good, we can always give her some tits. Who've we got this afternoon?" "Donna Dumbo. The American one. Stripper, exotic dancing, three XXX-rated videos, interests are cake-baking, tapestry, cat pedicure and fucking, not necessarily in that order. Sounds like a nice girl. You've seen her tits." "Yeah, marginal, but she's pretty enough. Who does that leave? The English girl with the big ones?" "Belinda Balloons. She's coming over from Salisbury, been entertaining the Army." "What, all of it?" "Doesn't say. Appearances in the Sunday Screw, Daily Shag, several video productions including 'Mammoth Melons at Montague Manor,' seen that one, anybody?" "Is that the one where the Lord of the Manor wants to interview a new maid?" "And she meets his daughters?" "And the head gardener?" "And his dog?" "German Shepherd?" "No, I don't think so." "Well, no, I haven't seen it, then. The one I saw had a GSD in it." "Not a Staffordshire Bull?" "No, that was Megaboob Mansion. Where she sucks off that pony ..." They both stared at me in silence as if I was some sort of pervert. "The last one's a bloke. This evening, it is. His name's Pym. Oldish bloke, but he seems to have an excellent background in breast fetishism." "Could be useful. Where have I heard that name before?" "I don't think you should have asked him for his autograph, Shan, it gives the wrong impression," Smegs said to me sternly. "Even if he used to be in Jubilee Street." "But he's so dishy. And just like he is on the box. Really nice. I hated that wife of his, the shitty little cow, no wonder her killed her and went to jail. I'd have gone to ..." "Chauntaille!" Megan used my full name. "It's a play. He's an actor. He's not married, at least, not to a woman. He didn't kill anyone, and he's not in jail. He came for an interview. Moggie, what did you think?" "He wasn't interested when I flashed my tits at him on the way out," she said doubtfully. "Moggie, he's an ACTOR!" "So was that one last week, and he gave me the best fuck I've had for simply days. Of course, I had to fake an orgasm." "I bet he did, too. They're very good at it, actors. So, not him, then?" We gave him the thumbs down, regretfully in my case. "There'll be plenty more men, Shan, don't worry," she said softly. "If you're all ready, then, we'll see the next one? The know-it-all bull-dyke bitch. Right, remember not to make a judgement until we've seen the lezzie cow." Donna Dumbo fell asleep during the interview. She sort of keeled over in her chair and started snoring. One of her tits plopped out of her bra and fell on the desk with a solid-sounding clunk. "That sounded a bit strange," said Moggie. "Silicone," said Smegs. "Grab a tape measure while she's asleep. If she's 120 inches, I'm Shakespeare's sister." Moggie helped me with the tape. "She weighs a ton, considering her waist's only twenty inches," she said. We wrestled with her body briefly, then Smegs came over and pulled the woman to her feet by the scruff of her neck. "Quick, do her while I hold her up," she panted. "There we are, 46-29-38! I checked them twice," I said. "Can't we get her for giving a false description under the Trades Descriptions Act?" Moggie was tapping on the side of one of Donna's tits with her fist. It made a dull thump, and it quivered a bit. "No, she'll only blame her agent and say she has no idea what her own measurements are. Isn't it time we woke her up?" It took three glasses of water before she stirred. She looked down at the water pouring into her cleavage. "Shee-it, what happened?" she said. Smegs explained. "You fell asleep. Must be jet-lag. It's okay, we carried on the interview without you. Have you any questions you'd like to ask us?" "What would you like me to ask? Usually they ask *me* all the questions." "Oh, all right then. Do you ever come while you're on stage?" Donna perked up. "Gee, what can I say? I ain't s'posed to admit that. In some states, if you achieve an organism, it's against the statues." "Really?" "But since it's just us and your readers, yes, I do!" "Do you squirt when you come?" "Hey, how did I KNOW you were going to ask that one? Wow! Ten feet sometimes. What's that in meters?" "Never mind," said Smegs, "and your breasts, how sensitive are they, can you reach an orgasm just from having your nipples sucked?" "Ooooh yes, they are SO sensitive!" Moggie stopped what she was doing. She had been kneeling beside Donna's chair chewing the nipple of the breast which had fallen out of her bra some time ago.She stopped and wiped the end of it with her sleeve. Donna gave no sign of having noticed. "And have you always had big breasts, Donna?" "Since I was thirteen, when I wore a Double-D. The boys were all scared of me, so I..." "...used to go with older men, until..." I continued. "...I lost my cherry to the school janitor..." added Moggie. "...behind the gymnasium..." said Smegs. "...and I said to him, was that IT, I waited sixteen years for that?" We all four of us finished together in unison. Well, not quite in unison, Donna's version said she was eighteen, but she had to comply with the laws of her own enlightened country. "One more question, Donna, is Donna Dumbo your real name?" She dissolved in giggles. "Oh, you're so cute, you British. Of course not. It's Geraldine. But my agent thought Geraldine Dumbo sounded schlocky. Whatever that means." Smegs looked at us both. "Thank you, Donna, I have no further questions at this time." Smegs has been watching too many courtroom dramas, I thought, as Moggie and I carried Miss Dumbo out. She'd fallen asleep again. "Well, what do you think?" "Perfect," we said. Belinda Balloons came from Luton. For those readers who are ignorant of British Geography, so are girls who come from Luton. "Are those things all your own?" asked Moggie, her mouth watering. Belinda took a deep breath and wiggled her bottom into her chair. Through her knitted jersey dress, she cupped one stupendously large breast in two tiny hands and hefted it upwards. It made a curiously hollow squeaking sound. "All mine, yeah!" She shifted her chewing gum to the other cheek and smiled blankly around at us without missing a single chew. "And are they real?" "'Pends what you mean by real. No silicone, no nuffin. Just good old genuine rubber. Dunlop rubber," she added proudly. "You mean, you wear rubber breasts? How big are your own?" "These are me own, I paid wiv me Access card..." "No, Belinda, watch my lips. How big are your real tits?" "Oh, me tits? I fought you meant me breasts. Oooh, they're about a 32AA." "I see. If you came here," said Moggie, "you might have to give up wearing rubber breasts and have something more realistic." "These are realistic enough. It's only in me videos, when I go in the shower, the water sounds like someone pissin' on a beachball. And they crinkle a bit in the cleavage, but I always wear this big gold chain necklace..." "No, we would have to grow you some real tits. What would you think about that, Belinda?" "You can't have real ones this size. That's the 'ole point," she explained patiently. Smegs nodded to me and I stood up behind the desk. "Cor, you got a pair as well," said Belinda, grabbing at my nipple. "Ouch, you bastard!" I yelped. "Hey, you FELT it! Are they your real ones? Fucking hell!""Oh, well, if you say so, Sir Roger." I couldn't believe I had just said that. "Sit down, Chauntaille, and look at these photos. You will find them interesting, I am sure." Oh, my God, here we go. I sat down, and the pictures swam before my eyes. They showed women with extremely large breasts. None as big as mine, of course. "Not as big as yours, of course, Chauntaille. Few are. Possibly none in the world." "Oh, I wouldn't say that..." "I might..." And he was unfastening the buttons of my blouse, not hesitantly, in quite a matter-of-fact way. I watched his fingers, fascinated like one of those snakes with a mongoose. Or is it the other way round? I'm getting wet again, I thought. I am rarely mistaken about that. I am sitting in a puddle again, I thought. Right again, Shan. I peered down into my cleavage. So did Sir Roger. The cups of the Ultra-Boomer were down there somewhere. I felt the velcro creak as it took the strain. Shit, as if I *needed* to be any bigger right now! "Is this what 'bearding in his den' means, Shan?" Saved by the bell. Smegs, in the nick of time. "Megan, my dear. Such a pleasure. As you see, Chauntaille has been showing me her delightful breasts. Truly a wonder of nature." "Not exactly nature, Sir Roger," she said. Oh no, don't try and explain it all now, Smegs. But she did. Sir Roger listened intently, asking questions from time to time. The whole story came out. The accident in the lab, the surges of growth, the various batches of boob-spray. The story of the dairies, the lactating juniors, the rampant horniness and finally my massive development in the last two years. At last, the story was complete, and we waited silently for Sir Roger's comments. Why, I found myself wondering, were both Smegs and myself completely naked? I rather imagine Smegs was wondering the same thing. Why indeed, was I lying spreadeagled across the staff room table with both my nipples in my mouth, while Sir Roger was buried up to his thick hilt in my glistening cooze? Why had Smegs done nothing to prevent this happening, instead of wanking herself silly on the staff room armchair? Still, no point in worrying about these things. There were more orgasms to be enjoyed. I have to confess, I faked the eleventh and the seventeenth. "We can't let him into the school," I said, "he'll cause havoc." "He certainly caused havoc with you, anyway." Smegs sounded just a little jealous. "Hey, what is all this?" Moggie felt she was missing out. "What's he been up to, your Sir Roger?" "He's not my Sir Roger, he's Gruntworthy's. She went to confront him about having a job here and to ask if his wife knew about it. She ended up getting screwed rotten." I felt myself going bright red, not so much in shame this time, just at the memory of the scene in the staff room. "Is this true, Chauntaille? Well?" "Well what?" "What's he like in bed?" "We didn't go to bed. There wasn't time. We did it on the staff room table. To tell the truth, I don't remember much of it, so it can't have been that memorable a performance." "Huh!" Smegs was scornful. "Memorable or not, Ms Alzheimer, you were making enough noise about it. Screaming the school down. That's why I stuffed your nipples in your mouth, to shut you up." "*You* did that?" "Well YOU certainly couldn't. It took me all my strength. YOU couldn't even REACH your nipples!" This was all getting unpleasantly personal. Moggie summed up the story so far. "You were on the staff room table..." "Naked," insisted Smegs. "...naked, getting rodgered by Sir Roger, and making so much noise that your bestest friend had to stuff both your nipples in your mouth to avoid rousing the whole school? And you say you can't remember how good it was?" "I had to fake a couple of orgasms..." "So what," snorted Smegs. "The eleventh and the seventeenth, actually." That shut them up. "But he was no more than a mediocre fuck, by MY standards. And at least, it was ME he chose. I wasn't the one spreadeagled in an armchair with six fingers up my splotch!" "Megan!" Moggie was doing her Lady Bracknell voice. "Is this true? You had six fingers up your...splotch?" "What's a splotch, for Chrissakes?" said Smegs, exasperated. "I dunno, I just made it up." "But you were watching them, and masturbating, Megan." "Yes, Miss." "You, a Deputy Headmistress of St Cat's, sat and played with yourself while your bestest friend was being serviced on the staff room table by a peer of the realm. A knight, or whatever he is." "Only once a knight, apparently," I reminded her. "But I agree, Chauntaille. He will cause havoc amongst the girls. He will have to be stopped. Or diverted. But why did he fuck Chauntaille, rather than you, Megan?" The cheeky cow. "Perhaps it was because my tits are three times the size of hers. Mine are almost immeasurably more massive, gargantuan and truly immense," I suggested with all due modesty. "You have put your finger on it as usual, Chauntaille." I jerked my hand away quickly. "You have stumbled on the true reason for Sir Roger's apparent infatuation. The bigger the breasts, the more the attraction. But you have it the wrong way round! It is not Sir Roger who is attracted to *you*. My theory is that the bigger your breasts are, the more likely you are to fall into Sir Roger's clutches. You, Chauntaille, were three times more likely to throw yourself at Sir Roger than Megan. QED." We were silenced by the brilliance of Moggie's scientific reasoning. "If that's the case, the juniors will be safe from his clutches, but the Lower Sixth will be creaming themselves over him," said Smegs. "Quite right. Chauntaille, allow me to delegate this task to you. You will carry out a controlled experiment. Introduce Sir Roger to girls with no breasts at all. Then introduce him to a group of girls with larger ones. Finally, introduce him to the Lower Sixth. Note the results." "It could be dangerous, Miss..." "It could be dangerous, Chauntaille, but you are the man for the job. Be off with you. Do what you have to do and report to me...to us...by Friday. Now go and get dressed, you'll catch your death of cold." I drew up my plan of action. Sir Roger would be here on Thursday. I would take him firstly, to see the First Form. They had no breasts at all, most of them. They would not be attracted to Sir Roger at all. There were, in fact, two of them who did have breasts, excessively so, but they were his great granddaughters, so would not be attracted to him anyway. A neat solution. Next, I would take him to the Fourth Form. These were a typical group of English fourteen-year-old private schoolgirls: stuck-up little tarts who had at least started to develop something under their blouses. They would present a spread of breast sizes which would, with any luck, show different degrees of attraction to Sir Roger. These I would note carefully. Finally, I would present him to the Lower Sixth. These girls were the remnants of the old Junior ex-Drama Group, and the Junior IT Studies Group, now grown up young ladies with such immense breasts that, if Moggie's theory held water, would fling themselves at Sir Roger with joyous abandon. None of the girls were lactating, fortunately. The best milkers were now working at Fillamore Deepleigh for Baps's Organic Girl Dairies, the others had dried up. I checked the batteries in my lapdog computer and put on my mirrored dark glasses. These would protect me from Sir Roger, provided I didn't look at him too hard. Now I knew what to expect, I felt able to ward him off. If push came to shove, I could always hang garlic and asafoetida grass round my neck and sprinkle holy water on him. First things first. I would have to warn Sir Roger's great granddaughters. "Suzanne, Pansy, a moment, please!" I stopped the girls as they rushed out of the lab to get to the restaurant. They fretted and hopped anxiously from one foot to the other as their classmates disappeared out of the door. "I won't keep you long, and there will be plenty of food left for you." They obviously didn't believe me. "Now then, you know your great grandfather, Sir Roger?" "He's been here, hasn't he?" said Suzanne, "'Toria said she'd seen him!" "Well, yes, she did. He's been here. For an interview." "An interview," said Pansy, "like on television?" "Sort of. In fact, he's going to work here two days each week." "Oh, wheeeee!" Pansy sounded excited. "Oh, you like him a lot, then?" I said, encouragingly. "Oh, he's all right," said Pansy with a shrug. Suzanne shuddered, which did interesting things to the contents of her blouse. She screwed up her nose. "He gives me the creeps," she said. "Oh, why?" "I dunno. But when I see him, it makes me want to try and sit on his face, and that's rude, 'cos he's my great granddad." "Yeah, insects do it," said Pansy. "Insects?" I asked. This conversation was taking a strange turn, as most of my conversations with these girls tended to do. "Anyway, I just thought I'd warn you, in case it came as a shock. Off you go, then. You still pregnant, Pansy?" "Oooh, yes, Miss!" "She's missed six more periods these last two weeks," said Suzanne, as they collided in the doorway. Their breasts squeezed together as they went through at the same time. By the time they were in the Fifth Form, they'd never even get through that door one at a time, let alone two! It was going to be a busy day.Sir Roger was here, and it was my task to take him around the school, meeting three representative groups of girls with different sized breasts. I had some misgivings about it. The plan had seemed fine at first. In theory, the bigger a girl's breasts, the more she was irrationally drawn to Sir Roger. When I had met him, fatefully, in the staff room, he had comprehensively screwed me on the table, while Smegs, so much less well-endowed, was reduced to frenzied wanking. (The best sort, I always think.) I checked my state of readiness. Suitably chaste dress of rough grey wool. Hessian would have been better, perhaps, but too scratchy. High neck showing no more than a foot or so of cleavage. Severe hairstyle. Lapdog fully charged. "Ah, good morning, Sir Roger!" "Chauntaille! Ah, my sweetness. As voluptuous as I remembered. Your immensity has never been far from my thoughts." Oh, shit. I was soaked already. This wasn't going to work! We should have got Fanny Albatross to do this job. I put on the reflective sunglasses. That was better. My panties hadn't dried out yet, but at least I felt slightly safer. "Miss Thunderbolt has explained our little project to me." "She has?" "We will be meeting three groups of children so that I may assess their relative development as a basis for my studies. I am looking forward to the experiment. Especially to working closely with you, my dear. Very closely!" The countermeasures were working, just. The dark glasses were holding him at bay, but it was going to be a close thing. We set off in the direction of the lab, and I briefed him on the way. "The first group we are going to see are the First Formers, my little girls. We will see them in the science lab. They will shortly be working on breast enhancement techniques, but for the time being, they are on basic chemistry; learning how to boil water. Your younger great granddaughters are in this class, of course." "I know, never mind. Treat them exactly as normal girls." I opened the door and we went in. The girls were being supervised by the disco lad, who sat at the desk in abject boredom, his earphones leaking high frequency sounds. The girls looked up indifferently at Sir Roger before returning to their experiments. "They seem to be concentrating beautifully on their work, Chauntaille," Sir Roger whispered, looking round at the girls' bent heads. Only Pansy and Suzanne looked up, seeming a little agitated. Pansy was frowning and cupping her nipples. Suzanne had a hand up her skirt and a panic-stricken expression on her face. They hopped up and down. The other girls in the class glanced up at them curiously. We went over to them. "Are you all right, Suzanne?" I asked her quietly. Sir Roger stood beside me, smiling encouragingly at his vast-meloned great granddaughter. "It's nothing, Miss. I just feel uncomfortable. Like I told you, Miss, yesterday. You remember?" "I remember. If you've seen enough, Sir Roger, we could move on to the Fourth Form. This class was really only a control?" "Yes, yes. Of course." He seemed to tear his eyes away from Suzanne's extravagant bosom with an effort. The girl was almost frothing. I steered Sir Roger in the direction of the door, thanked the class and marched him out into the corridor. Phew! Poor Suzanne! I peered back through the glass door. The poor child was perched on her lab stool, leaning back on the bench with her bosom quivering above her heaving chest. Her cousin was fanning her face with her notepad. ********** "The next lot are the Fourth Form," I said, guiding him by the elbow. He seemed a little dazed, as if confused by conflicting emotions. "Fourteen, mostly. The usual mix! They're doing ... I consulted the lapdog ... modern dance. The teacher is from America, a Miss Dumbo." "Dumbo? Not Donna Dumbo?" "That's her name, yes. You know her?" "I know of her, yes. A fine specimen of young womanhood. 120-20-34, I believe she is billed as. Perhaps exaggeratedly, but splendid breasts, nevertheless...!" I opened the door. A strange scene met our eyes. Obviously, the class was well advanced. Twenty girls, in sweaty leotards, lay on their backs on the floor. Miss Dumbo lay at the front of the class. "Now, HUP!" she shouted, flinging her legs up and clasping them behind her neck. The difference between the girls and Miss Dumbo was that the teacher was naked. Fully naked, I observed. Well you could hardly miss it. Her nether regions were bald as a badger. Or a coot. I gazed at them for a while. "Hold it, hold it, hold it!" she yelled at the girls, scrambling to her feet and striding between the bodies, prodding here and there to correct their positions. "Shawnella, you're so inflexible, get those legs BACK! Roxanne, clasp those ankles, clench, clench! Arantxa, you've split the crotch of your leotard again, I can see every tuft. Lose ten pounds immediately!" I peered anxiously at Arantxa. She had indeed, and you could. I coughed and held myself back with an effort. "Right, girls, rest, we gotta visitor." The girls grunted in chorus and sat up, panting. "Ah, Miss Dumbo," purred Sir Roger, I have long been your greatest admirer!" "Who's the old guy, Shan?" the teacher asked, rudely. "This is Sir Roger Pym, Donna." "Sheesh, he wants an autograph, he should call my agent," said Donna, turning away to her class. "Right, on your knees! Now bend backwards until your heads touch the floor ..." Remarkable! Not a glimmer. Those things must be pure silicone. So, she'd been lying about being a Double-D in the seventh grade. Sir Roger had turned his attention to the girls. Presented in this revealing pose, bent backwards with their chests thrust out, we could see the full menu from fried eggs to pineapples. Sir Roger bent to inspect one of the bigger girls, the Mediterranean Arantxa. "Hold it, HOLD IT! Break it up, class! Shit, is he still here? Shan, you gonna sling this jerk outta here, or do I do it myself?" Arantxa had sat upright, her big breasts bouncing into a bobbling mound in her lap. She was making mewing sounds. One or two of the other well-endowed girls were looking across at her and Sir Roger, and moaning softly. Fingers were exploring sweaty crotches. Other girls seemed indifferent. Some were picking their noses or squeezing spots. "I warned you, asshole!" Sir Roger found himself being lifted bodily by his collar and the seat of his pants. Donna was certainly supremely fit. I joined him outside the classroom door. Already Arantxa and the bustier of her colleagues were undertaking the first of their two hundred punishment press-ups. "I honestly thought her breasts were real. I must be slipping," Sir Roger marvelled. "She's certainly a strong girl," I said. "You can say that again," he said, but I didn't. ********** "Right then. The Lower Sixth. I must warn you, Sir Roger, these girls are unusual. Every one of them has been subjected to a powerful breast-enlarging chemical. You will see, they are EXTREMELY well-developed. Right now they are doing Solo Video Techniques with our Miss Balloons." "Belinda Balloons?" "That's her," I sighed, "another of your favourites?" "I have all her films. 'Belinda Does Hardcore,'" he sighed. I wasn't familiar with this work, but assumed it wasn't one of her solo oeuvres. "She seduces this chappie, and takes him to her room. Her tits, honestly, even in a bra they hang down to her pussy!" Not much of a bra, then, I thought. I'll introduce her to Mrs Boothroyd sometime. Perhaps after she has the treatment: no point in supporting those Dunlop blimps, she can't even feel them. "Okay, this is the big one," I said, shaking Sir Roger by the hand, "Good luck, everyone!" The Lower Sixth Formers were lying on their backs. Their clothes were scattered around on the floor. Gigantic, bloated breasts wobbled and flopped wherever you looked. It was a disturbing spectacle. Syrupy soft rock from a small combo drifted sleazily from the loudspeakers. Belinda's corncrake voice rose above it. "Right, hold yer lips apart wiv yer left hands. No, yer LEFT, Felicity, now, get one finger of yer uvver 'and, and slip it in yer mouth. Yer MOUTH, Astrud, now make it wet, yeah, great, now into your puss wiv it. Up and down, up and down, up and down, now anuvver finger, make it two more ..." A scream rang out. "STOP!!! 'Oo's that coming?" Belinda screamed. "You can't fuckin' come till I tell yer. Start again!" The girls stopped what they were doing, reluctantly in one or two cases, and sat up, grinning at each other and flicking their hair out of their eyes. The atmosphere in the room was stuffy. "Take five, girls," called Belinda. She lumbered over to us, holding her breasts with both hands. "Hi!" she said to Sir Roger, in a friendly manner. "Miss Balloons, at last!" he breathed. "Sorry to keep you waitin', they was getting close to the climax." "No, not at all. I have been waiting years for the pleasure." Belinda looked him up and down. "I shouldn't 'old yer breff, mate, grab it while yer still can, I reckon." "I might just hold you to that, my dear," he smarmed. Shit, he was an oily bastard. "Forty years ago, maybe, mate. Still, I s'pose the old right hand still works, yeah?" I was beginning to feel sorry for the old boy all of a sudden. With an effort, I looked elsewhere rather than at his crestfallen face. I looked round the room. A number of the girls were taking notice of Sir Roger. All of them, in fact. They were primping their hair, inspecting their nipples, plumping up their breasts like cushions. Some of the less-endowed ones, those with less than ... oh ...About six feet of bust were sighing in resignation and playing with their fortuitously already moistened pubic regions. The others, the majority, began to rise to their feet and advance on Sir Roger. He looked like a child in a toy factory. He didn't know which one to grope first. "How old are these?" he grated, through clenched teeth. "It's all right, legally, they're all over sixteen, but you are in loco parentis..." Sir Roger licked his lips and made his selection. So did she. The largest pair of breasts in the class was edging forward, followed at a substantial distance by Rotunda Ampleforth, a plump-featured girl with a bottom which bordered on the gigantic. Her stomach overhung her crotch to an extent, which must have made this particular subject a difficult one for her. No doubt, she would find a market for her charms, on the basis that it takes all sorts to make a world. In fact, Rotunda would be classified as obese, if it wasn't for her breasts, which must have been almost as big as mine. Ridiculously large, in fact. Sir Roger had eyes only for Rotunda. They moved towards each other in slow motion, spreading their arms in embrace. All that prevented the consummation of their union was that Belinda grabbed Sir Roger by the back of his jacket, leaving him straining like a dog on a leash. Meanwhile, Rotunda was seized and held by her classmates. They weren't trying to stop sexual intercourse from taking place, they just wanted it to take place with them, rather than with anyone else. I helped Belinda drag Sir Roger out, his heels drumming along the floor. We just made it. As the door closed after us, fifteen incredibly-endowed and stark bollock-naked young ladies slammed against it in an avalanche of yielding breasts. Nipples were flattened against the glass, a strangely arousing sight. "Yowee!!! Did you see the tits on those kids?" Sir Roger howled, scrabbling to get back. We yanked him round the corner to the water cooler. Belinda splashed a cup of icy water on his head. He looked around, blinking, as if emerging from a dream. A wet dream. "Thank you, Belinda, I'll be all right now." And he stood up to his full five feet four, straightening his tie and clearing his throat. Belinda shook her head. "Stupid old bugger," she muttered to me, and set off back to her wanking-class, hanging on to her twin pontoons for dear life. Sir Roger came along with me. Back to the staff room. He made a few token efforts to get back to the bosom of the Lower Sixth, but I restrained him with a half-Nelson. At the last moment, I decided not to take him to the staff room, the scene of our seduction. I frog-marched him straight to the car park, and up to his Range Rover. I tossed him into the back seat like a rag doll. Clarrie was at the wheel, sipping coffee, reading a smutty book and playing with herself. It showed remarkable powers of concentration. The girl had hidden depths. She leapt out of the driver's seat as she heard the car door open, revealing some of her depths that weren't hidden. The wench was wearing the shortest skirt I had ever seen in my life. From belt to hem, it was no more than six inches deep. As she stood in the car park, her furry bush was fully revealed. Fascinating, I thought, I wished I had a spare hour or two, I could investigate that lot a little more closely. Another time, perhaps! "Take him home, Clarrie, he's had enough excitement for today," I told her. "Fuckin' hell, I hope not!" said Clarrie, with deep feeling. Chapter 11: Guinea Pig Girl "There we are, then," I said, "we daren't let him anywhere near anything with tits. Even his great granddaughters started getting the hots for him, some of the bigger Fourth Formers are nearly as big as young Suzanne, and they started chewing the curtains, and the Lower Sixth are still frothing. I passed their room on my way back from the car park and they were still trying to get out of the door." Moggie looked pleased with the success of her diagnosis. Or was it a prognosis? Whatever, she looked pleased with herself. "Even with you around, Chauntaille, he still had this effect on the girls?" "Yes, in theory, with me being the biggest, he should still have laid me down and given me a good fucking, but I was dressed like this!" "Yes," said Smegs, "you do look fairly off-putting, dear." Oh, har har. "Well, I'm more or less convinced," said Moggie. "We need a diversion. What's this Clarrie of his like? The other day, I saw her in the Range Rover, but she didn't get out. How does she dress, for instance?" "In a word, unwillingly," I suggested. "She's rather abandoned, sexually-speaking." "So, she doesn't dress like you are, hessian and sunglasses. She looks more... available?" "Oh, she's available all right. I threw Sir Roger in the car and she got out. Her skirt was up to here. You could see her armpits. Furry, they were, too." "What stopped you, then, Shan-tail?" sneered Smegs. "It wasn't easy, I can tell you," I told her. "I fancied giving her a good licking-out, but I had to get back here and report to you." Moggie looked pained. "Really, you two. Try to curb your lust. Now listen. I need your agreement, because we said we wouldn't enlarge anybody unless we had a consensus. I suggest we grow Clarrie. Dramatically. She's going to have to be substantially bigger than you, Chauntaille. What do you think?" Smegs smirked. "If it would cut Gruntworthy down to size, fine by me!" "If it would stop Sir Roger ravishing the entire school, I'd be happy with it too." "Right. Do we have any boob-juice in stock?" Smegs consulted the computer. "Only some out-dated stock in the Dr Valentine product range. But I think we need something stronger. Full strength. Clarrie needs to grow very big in a very short time. Can the First Formers mix some up for us?" "This afternoon," I said. "Then we could test it out, and use it on Clarrie next Tuesday. Perfect!" "Perfect, apart from the testing," said Moggie. "What are you going to test it on? White mice?" "Aaah, pick a Fourth Former, they're dispensable." "Yeah, s'pose so," said Moggie. "I'd thought about having some tits myself again, but I'm not about to become a guinea pig for your First Form chemists, Chauntaille. Later, perhaps. Okay, Shan, go for it, get them girls mixing!" The First Formers were excited. Anything would be better than boiling water for another whole afternoon. The girls set to with a will, measuring and weighing the ingredients. "We're mixing a large quantity, as it is easier to be accurate," I told them as two of them wielded a huge wooden paddle in the three hundred gallon tank. "What do we do with the rest of it, Miss?" asked Pansy. "We neutralise it, then we dispose of it. You know that the constituents are all organic and harmless in isolation. Oddly enough, once it's been neutralised, it becomes an excellent organic fertiliser. The farmers pay good money for it. So carry on mixing, girls. When it's done, transfer 250 millilitres to a spray bottle and label it as I have told you. That will be enough for our guinea pig girl. If it works satisfactorily, we will bottle some more for use next Tuesday. I'll leave you with Darren now. Carry on!" They carried on happily, splashing away in their big rubber overalls and face masks. Darren slouched at the desk and promptly fell asleep. It was an extra loud splash that woke him up. It wasn't Suzanne's fault. She told me later. And it wasn't Pansy's fault either. They had helped little Kirstie out of her clothes when something went down the back of her neck. Apparently it was a laboratory mouse, which one of the other girls had released from its cage. Nobody was sure how it got down Kirstie's neck, but one minute she was stirring away, engrossed, the next minute she was leaping around, screaming. Pansy and Suzanne grabbed her and tore her overall off, then her blouse and skirt. "Hold still, Curse!" said Suzanne. "And shhhh! It's here, I can see its head poking over the top of your knickers." Silence fell as Suzanne crept up on the poor mouse, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her little mouth. Kirstie stood transfixed and tearful as the busty girl persuaded the mouse out of her bum-cleavage. It didn't want to come out; it was lovely and warm in there, if a little pungent, but Suzanne suddenly grabbed it with a cry of triumph. "Got him!" The mouse wriggled, the way mice do, and jumped straight into the top of Suzanne's blouse. As girls screamed and scattered, it shot straight down between the girl's pineapple-sized breasts, down through the gap at the bottom of her bra, and on southwards, past her waist. At last, sensing freedom, it dived to the floor. Nineteen girls leaped on to stools and benches, squealing and holding up their skirts. One girl, Kirstie, with no skirt to hold up, gave a wail of terror and fled. The mouse gave chase, and Kirstie, looking over her shoulder, ran faster. "Curse! Look out!" shouted Pansy. Better, perhaps, if she had looked where she was going. It was the extra loud splash that woke Darren up. Once awake, he moved with commendable urgency and hauled Kirstie's slippery little body out of the 300-gallon tank of boob-juice. He dumped her on the bench, where she dripped and bellowed in fright and indignation. Suzanne collected the mouse and put it safely back in its cage. Meanwhile, the others kept carefully away from Kirstie, handing her rolls of paper towel to dry herself. Eventually, she was more or less dry. "What is this shit?" asked Darren. "Boob-juice," said Suzanne. "Oh, not that stuff again," Darren groaned. He looked up at Kirstie, still standing on the desk. "Shit, it's started already!Indeed it had. By the time Pansy came running to the office in panic to fetch me, it had worked a treat. "What's happened?" I asked as we panted along the corridor. "It's Curse, she fell in the tank!" "Curse?" "Kirstie Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe," she elaborated. "That little skinny girl." Not any more. Must have been a good batch, I realized, as Pansy and I burst into the lab. Kirstie was still on the bench, the other girls gazing upwards in a wondering circle about her. Darren looked panic-stricken in the background. "Shit, Curse," shouted Pansy, "look at your tits!" "I'm looking at them," screamed Kirstie Wykehame-Arthurstone-Smythe. And they were well worth looking at. Even as we watched, they were still slowly growing. Fat, bulging cones, capped with puffy areolae and tiny pink nipples, they steadily expanded. Already, they occupied the whole of her rib-cage, right down to the navel. Looking up at her, we saw them gradually settle under their increasing weight. They had reached her lower stomach when they finally stopped. We all started breathing again. Someone helped Curse down off her bench, and she stood amongst us, where she overbalanced occasionally and lurched into one or other of the girls, who shoved her away rudely. "Gerroff, you fat moo!" "Don't come over here with those things!" Darren had seen a few sights since he came to St Cat's, but this surpassed them all. "Fuck me!" he said. An attractive offer, at any other time, but I wasn't in the mood, and all the other girls were only First Formers. Suzanne looked at Curse in awe. She hadn't seen many girls bigger than her, and now here was one who had grown that big in ten minutes! "You can try one of my bras," she said kindly. Curse burst into tears. I took her in my arms. "Come here, sweetheart," I said. "Darren, go to the office and fetch Megan. Tell her to bring a curtain or a tablecloth or something. Meanwhile, one of you girls, fill a spray bottle with this stuff. I think we can assume it works." It certainly did. We sent for Mrs Boothroyd and asked her to bring Curse a Junior Boomer. We found her a blouse and extended tie. Her original skirt fitted, of course. Apart from a tendency to fall over, she was none the worse for her experience. "She's only a little bit bigger than you, Smegs," I said as gently as I could. "Only nine inches or so. You shouldn't be so jealous. It's not Curse's fault. It was the mouse." "Fuck the mouse. Making little girls bigger than me is undermining my authority as Deputy Headmistress. It's just not good enough, Shan!" I can't understand her sometimes. "We could make YOU bigger," I suggested. "Oh, yeah. And have Sir Roger coming on to me? Or into me. If you think I'm going around wrapped in sackcloth just to keep that horny old bastard away from my pubes, you've got another think coming, girl!" "It was only a thought." Well, don't even *think* about it, right?" "Right! Plan A." Moggie pulled a notepad to her and wrote a large number one on it. "Operation Clarrie," I said. Smegs sniffed and looked away. "How do we spray her?" said Moggie. "We need her breasts naked, if possible." "They're usually almost naked anyway. She'll be unbuttoned down to her navel, playing with herself in the car." "Does she play with herself the whole time?" asked Moggie. "Oh, no, only while she's not fucking." "That's a relief. I'd hate to think she was obsessed with sex. So, we persuade her out of the driver's seat, spray her tits ..." "And step back smartly," I said. "If we do it as soon as Sir Roger's out of the car in the morning, they'll be up to full size by going home time. Or even earlier, with any luck." "Do you need a hand?" Moggie asked, "or can you handle her on your own?" "I think I can manage her single handed. It will avoid making her suspicious. I can come up and pretend to wash her windshield with the spray bottle, then when she gets out for a chat, I'll do her tits! Simple!" "Good. We'll leave it to you." It went off like a charm. I strolled out to the car park with my spray bottle, and approached the Range Rover. It was rocking gently from side to side on its suspension. Clarrie was obviously inside. She was, indeed. I held up the bottle and indicated that I wanted to clean her windows. She nodded, but carried on with what she was doing. Obviously she had unfinished business down between her thighs. Eventually, she got out, although by then, I had cleaned all the glass, including the headlamps, and had started on the number plates. Clarrie stood next to me, very close. God, she smelled sexy! It was like the soiled pantie factory on a summer afternoon. She was wearing her short skirt again. Perhaps it had shrunk in the wash. Playfully, I pretended to spray her breasts, three-quarters of which were in full view in the neckline of her unbuttoned shirt. "What's that stuff?" she said. "It makes your tits grow!" I said. "Ooooh, yes, please," she said, almost ripping her shirt off, and offering them up to me. I nearly dived in head first, but remembered my task and gave a good spraying, left and right, top and bottom, and down between when she obligingly held them apart for me. "Oooh, it tingles," she giggled. "Does it?" It must be strong, I thought. I gave her a squirt up the skirt, just for luck and she squealed for joy and grabbed me round the neck. "C'mere!" she purred. "I feel horny as shit!" "Oh, all right, you've talked me into it, you smooth-talking fucker," I said, returning her friendly embrace with interest, and bundling her before me, I climbed into the back seat. God knows what time it was, but all the windows were steamed up. There was a polite knock on the window. "Who's that?" Clarrie said, climbing off me with a sucking sound like an emptying bath. She rubbed away at the window. "It's Pansy. Wonder what she wants." She opened the door, and Pansy peered in at us with fascination, as if she would have liked an invitation to join in. The atmosphere escaped into the car park, and the girl stepped back a pace or two. "Are you eating kippers in there?" she asked. "You kids are obsessed with kippers," Clarrie yelled. "What did you want?" "Clarrie, what's happened to your titties? They're enormous!" She was right about that. It was a good job it was a Range Rover and not anything smaller. Clarrie had passed me in size about an hour ago. She was now going to find driving an impossibility, unless she could steer from the back seat. "They grew," she said, simplifying things a little. The explanation seemed to satisfy Pansy. Tits grew, everyone knew that. "I have to see Miss Gruntworthy," she said. I sat up. Clarrie had already heaved her breasts out of the way and returned to slurping away at me. "Speak up then," I shouted, "Clarrie's making rather a lot of noise." "All right," yelled Pansy. "It's Curse. Miss Mountains said to see you if it wasn't too late. She's giving milk!" "MILK?" Clarrie disengaged with a grunt. "Milk?" she said. "Gallons of it! She said, if it wasn't too late, I had to stop you spraying Clarrie, whatever that means." Too late, of course. We both looked down at Clarrie's nipples, which were dribbling two streams of white. They had surrounded Curse with buckets and towels. She'd got it bad. Everything that was worst about boob-juice, Curse had got it. Enormous breasts: she'd grown even more, and Mrs Boothroyd had been summoned for a second time in the day, this time for an Ultra-Boomer Mark XX-bis. Milk: Curse had already filled several two-gallon buckets. The disco lad had been called for and was just about keeping up with the flow, but was beginning to look bloated. Jeremy was installing the emergency milking apparatus in the First Form dormitory. Finally, she was uncontrollably horny: she had ravished the disco lad's trousers several times, until someone went to a local sports outfitters and came back with a cricketer's protective box. It didn't stop her trying. And she grabbed at anyone who passed and tried to have casual sex with them, like an over-enthusiastic dog. "Will it wear off, do you think?" I asked Smegs. "She'll be back to normal in two or three weeks," she reassured me. "Apart from the ten-foot tits and the twenty-gallon milk habit, she'll be right as ninepence!" "Thank God for that," I said. "How's Clarrie?" she asked. "Difficult to say. I assume she's normally fairly over-sexed, but she's never let up for a second since I sprayed her. I feel like I've been Hoovered. And my nipples are red-raw. She's started lactating, by the way. And her tits are about down to her shins. Apart from that, not a lot to say, really." "Well, at least, she ought to claim Sir Roger's attention full-time. Moggie's just taken him out to the car park after another brush with the Lower Sixth. Apparently he got Rotunda alone behind the groundsman's shed. Or *she* got *him* alone." "Any damage?" "They've crushed some small trees and demolished the potting shed. And there's a brick wall that will have to be rebuilt. And a lawn mower is broken. One or two windows. And we'll be needing a new tractor. But the other girls dragged Rotunda off him after an hour or two. They're drying her out now." "Bad enough, then." "It's as well it wasn't her that fell into the tank. Be thankful for small mercies." Moggie came staggering in and slumped in a chair, holding her head. "Shee-it!" she said. "Have they gone?" "Clarrie nearly ate him alive. She literally tore him out of my grasp. If he gets home alive it will be a miracle.I opened the door of the Range Rover, and it came pouring out. Gushing. Milk and girl-juice, flowing down the car park in a stream. The smell in there! I nearly came myself! "Sorry about that, some of it was me," I explained. "My vagina got a bit moist." "I thought I recognized yours, Chauntaille, but I didn't want to appear rude." I blushed prettily. ********** It was quite dark outside when we heard the Range Rover slowly crawl out of the car park and pull away up the driveway. Later, we heard it start up again and go out of the main gates. At that rate of progress, they would get home to Herefordshire by March 9th. We turned our attention to Curse. "She's asleep at last," Smegs whispered. "It took all three of my vibrators to get her off." "Three?" "There's one you haven't met yet. I was going to introduce you some time." "I don't think I want to meet it now I know where it's been." "Suit yourself. It won't stop me using it. It's not a battery-powered one, you know." "Mains?" "No, diesel. Very economical, and keeps going for hours on a tank of fuel." "What about the smell?" "You're a fine one to talk. Gruntworthy, the Great Unwashed!" "Sorry," I said, sniffing myself in various places. Smegs was probably right. I was not nice to be near, unless you happened to be an amorous halibut. "Stop it, you'll wake Curse," I told Smegs, pulling her off me. She reattached herself immediately. She was all mouths and hands. "Oh, come on, Shan, we haven't done this for ages." So I let her have her wicked way with me. Moggie came over and joined in. We made rather a lot of noise, but Curse slept through it like a baby. ********** We kneeled in a circle on one of the beds, on our knees and elbows, concentrating on the piece of paper between us. "What time are they all due back from supper," I asked. "'Nother twenty minutes," said Smegs. "Excellent timing, having our little orgy while the girls were out of their dorm," Moggie said, "But a little risky. If we'd got carried away, they might have come back and found us at it." "They'd have to find out some time," Smegs said. "There, that's one of Moggie's, makes seventeen." "And another," I said, "eighteen, and another of yours, Smegs, twelve!" "Right, here's another one of yours, Shan. That's forty-three." Moggie counted them carefully. "Another of yours, Mog, and a whole tuft of Shan's. Sixty-one!" "Oh, it was *you* was it?" "You never complained when I pulled them out. You squirted, if I'm not mistaken!" "Oh, it was *you* that squirted, was it?" Moggie said, "It simply soaked the bed. You know, I thought it tasted like yours, but there was so much of it, I thought it was Megan." I found another pubic hair between my teeth and tweaked it out. "I think that's my last one. It's one of Moggie's, you can see where the color is growing out at the roots," I said, sticking it to the paper with the others." "Are you *sure* it's mine? It looks like one of yours." "It can't be mine, it was in *my* mouth. I can't suck my own fuckin' pussy, can I?" "It's mine," said Smegs, to settle the argument. "Mine curl the other way, look. My mother came from New Zealand. So that's me, thirteen, Moggie, eighteen, and Shan, sixty-one. You win again, Shan. Claim your reward!" "Not now," hissed Moggie, "they're coming back." The room filled up with First Formers, their babbling voices dying away to respectful silence as they spotted the three teachers crouched on the bed in their dormitory. As I have said, we were on our knees and elbows. I could try to explain what I did with ten feet of tit in that position, but you'll just have to work it out for yourselves. Most of it, though, went out to the sides, under my armpits. I noticed Pansy walking silently round and round the bed. She seemed to be inspecting us all in turn from behind. She made several circuits before I heard her voice behind me. "Oh," she gasped. "Oh, MISS!" She sounded shocked to the core. "What is it, Pansy?" I asked over my shoulder. Instead of replying, Pansy beckoned to her cousin. Suzanne came over as well. She gasped in horror. "Oh, Miss GRUNTWORTHY! Oh, Golly, MISS!" "What's the MATTER?" Pansy was standing there, bright red, biting her lower lip. "Oh, Miss! It's your... Ooooh!" "She means your pussy, Miss," Suzanne interpreted, amid gasps of horror. "What about it, Pansy? What's so special about my pussy?" "Ooooh, Miss. It's twice as big as Miss Thunderbolt's and Miss Mountains's put together, Miss. It's HUGE, Miss!" The subject of the size of my pudenda seems to come up altogether too often. At teacher training college, they talked of nothing else for days on end, it seemed. Now even the pure and innocent First Formers were at it. "Miss?" Suzanne asked in a whisper. "Will ours be as big as yours when we grow up?" Pansy gasped again. "Oooh, Suze!" she said, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Not much danger of that," laughed Smegs. "Nobody's is as big as that!" "Thank you, Megan!" "I hope it doesn't get that big," said Pansy. "'Cos I want to be able to have sex!" Moggie and Smegs were taking lots of interest now. "How would having a huge - a simply enormous - pussy stop you being able to have sex, Pansy?" asked Moggie. "Well, when you sit on the boy's face..." scandalised gasps from Suzanne "...it wouldn't be just his nose, his whole HEAD would go inside." "His whole head and SHOULDERS!" said Suzanne. "We'd have to throw him a LIFEBELT!" gasped Pansy in horrified delight. "Or a rubber DINGHY!" cried Suzanne, and both girls, crimson with excitement, hugged each other. Their eyes were bright. Their nipples were like chapel hatpegs. Moggie and Smegs were rolling about, spluttering. I'd had enough of this. I sat up on my haunches with a resounding squelch, and the girls looked disappointed as my ridiculously outsized pussy disappeared from view. "Shouldn't you two be getting ready for bed?" I asked the two cousins. The rest of the class were in their pajamas. One or two were on their knees, saying their prayers beside their beds. "I can't, Miss," said Pansy patiently. "You're all lying on my bed." "Well why couldn't you say so, stupid girl," I said, and with as much dignity as we could muster, we all climbed off, Moggie remembering to bring the paper with the pubic hairs attached. Suzanne ran her hand across the bed covers. "It'll soon dry out, Pan," she said, soothingly. "We'll hang the covers on the radiator and you can sleep with me." "But what about the smell?" said Pansy. "I'll hold my breath," said Suzanne. She was going to do well at St Cat's, this one. I smoothed my sackcloth dress down over my hips and thighs - it had ridden up - and piled my breasts back into the bodice with a little help from Smegs. That's what bestest friends are for. Moggie was naked, which is an embarrassing condition for a headmistress of an exclusive girls' private school. We found most of her clothes on the floor where she had scattered them. Smegs was dressed for action in an extra-long T-shirt which she slipped on over her head in a matter of seconds. "All ready, then?" she said. "Ready!" "Let's go, then. Good night, girls!" "Good night, Miss," they chanted dutifully. I turned off the light as we went out. ********** "Not an entirely unsuccessful day," said Moggie, in summary, as we walked across the quadrangle. She was rather breathless as she was trying to put her skirt on as we walked, and Smegs always walks twice as fast as anyone else. "One or two loose ends to tie up, perhaps," said Smegs. "Nothing to lose sleep over. One First Former with a lactation problem, but we've taught her how to connect herself to the milking machine when she wakes up. Nothing to worry about. And she will soon get used to having a hundred-inch bust, it's all a question of balance." "Perhaps," said Smegs, "we ought to send young Curse down to Baps's Organic Girl Dairy for a couple of weeks. She's giving an excellent yield." "Good plan, Megan, see to it, will you?" "See to it, will you, Shan!" "Certainly, Megan. And what about Sir Roger?" I said. "Clarrie will keep him under sedation from now on. Although who is going to satisfy Clarrie? That could be a full-time job for somebody." "Sounds like more work for her young Davie," I said. "I'll give them a call tonight and see if they got home yet." "There you are girls," said Moggie, struggling into her knickers. We stopped and waited for her to catch up. "Your first lesson in running a successful girl's school." We all said it together in perfect unison. "Delegation is the art of management!"

Part I, Chapter 1: Young Lust

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/Impregnation/Breast_Growth/Some_Kind_of_Dog/New Girls at Saint Cat's.txt

Mike Benton

A Date With The Rabbit

'I know what you want to do,' he said, 'but please let me see first. Okay.' The anticipation in his eyes relaxed me somewhat, though our first meeting was still tense with both excitement and fear. 'Okay. What do you want to do?' I said with some trepidation. He was a nice-looking guy, not pretty but shy and quiet. 'Just let me look,' he said, his eyes almost pleading as they roamed across my body. I slipped my sports coat off, unbuttoned my shirt, and dropped it on the nearby chair. He seemed to hardly be able to keep his hands off me as he knelt there in front of where I sat in the chair. I lifted my t-shirt off over my head and saw him move still closer to me, almost between my knees. 'Can I...' he paused. 'Can I touch your nipples?' I smiled, thinking about it for a minute. 'Yes.' Very softly, his attention completely on the tiny points of flesh, his trembling hand reached to my right nipple, where it stood out from the goosebumps on my chest, and very tentatively touched it. I hadn't ever felt a touch like it - soft and almost rabbit-like in its appreciation and apprehension. His touch was electric. The warmth of his fingers transmitted through the nerves and into my chest. 'Can I kiss it?' he said longingly. 'Yes.' Crawling closer, his mouth neared it and, excruciatingly, stopped, his eyes looking quickly into mine as if I might push him away at the last moment. I smiled reassuringly, and again he shifted closer on his knees and, as if fulfilled, tongued it brushingly and kissed it ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. My hands came to the sides of his head, and, after a few seconds, very gently pushed him away. He moved away longingly but easily, looking into my eyes with gratitude. He looked down into my lap, where the obvious bulge showed through my pants. 'It's big,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Can I see?' 'No,' I said too quickly. 'No. Then it would be all over.' He nodded through a small, disappointed smile of understanding. His smile broadened. 'Please get dressed. I want to see you...' He almost interrupted himself in mid-word. 'No, no. Let me help you with your shoes. And socks,' he added, and looked down at my feet, moving to do so even before I had moved my foot toward him to let him do it. He slipped off the loafer and peeled back the sock sensuously. That's really the only way I can describe it - sensuously. His hands followed the contours and shapes of it as the sock came off. Then, as if dismissing it, he switched to the other foot and did the same thing. He lingered with it in his hand before gently setting it back on the floor and allowing me to start to stand. He moved back, still on his knees, to allow me to stand, but I found he was still very close to me as I stood. 'Let me help...' he said softly. 'Let me help you undo your pants.' I saw him swallow hard, then, not waiting for an answer, reach for my belt. The vibration of his fingers was clear throughout my body as his hands began to undo my belt, the fastener at the waist, and the zipper. I stood with my hands on my hips to allow him to lead the way. Again looking into my eyes with an anticipatory smile, almost like a young child opening a Christmas present, he helped the pants fall down my hips and onto my thighs. As my underwear came into view, unnaturally tented with my own excitement, his eyes locked on it, in spite of his continuing movements to lower the pants to my thighs, calves, and, as I lifted my foot, off first one leg and then the other. I could see the intention in his eyes to stop me there and continue with his primary pursuit immediately. I stepped around him then. 'Can I watch?' he begged. 'No. I want you to be surprised.' I moved to the bathroom and quickly stepped out of the underwear. Shaking, I pulled the panties out of the sack and put them on, carefully nestling my hard-on into them and to the side. My fingers not cooperating, I fastened the bra around my middle, turned it, and put my arms into the straps, pulling it up into place. Then I put the blouse and skirt on. My hands shook as I threaded my legs into the thigh-high stockings one at a time, and the shoes eluded me for a moment before I could get the high heels on my feet. The wig was relatively easy. I looked into the mirror and put the necklace, earrings, lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara on. It had taken only a few minutes, but the anticipation was amazing. I walked back into the main room of the motel room. He again sat in the chair by the small table. I saw a frown cross his brow first and then a smile, so much in contrast that it almost seemed to break his face. I could see the almost bouncing excitement spread from within him to his face, to his posture, and, finally, to his clasped hands. 'You're beautiful!' He stared open-mouthed. I could only smile at the obvious sincerity of his statement, even though I knew there were a great deal of faults he may not have seen yet and soon would. He still stared until I became self-conscious. 'Thank you,' I said then into the silence that was really unbroken by the motel room radio playing a soft song. As if it had broken a spell, he stood and rapidly looked me from top to bottom. 'I see,' he said. 'I see why you wanted to do this. You're magnificent. You're...you're...' He seemed to be speechless. I raised my hand to stop him. 'No. That's enough. You'll swell my head until I can't keep this hair on anymore.' His mouth open, he looked at the radio as if he'd just realized it was on and couldn't figure out why the sound was from outer space and totally unfamiliar. Then he looked as if he had recognized it and, in a single motion, extended his hand to me irresistibly until I took it. My other hand played with the hem of the short skirt. He pulled me close to him naturally and easily and moved in concert with the music as if we had already been doing that for some time. His other hand had already gone beneath my arm and around my waist, pressing into my back through the blouse, my nose and eyes peeking over his shoulder. Almost of its own volition, my hand went to his shoulder as if we had been dancing forever. I had never danced with another man. 'You feel so wonderful next to me!' he sighed. 'Perfect. Just perfect. Wonderful. Beautiful.' All his words floated across my shoulder and surrounded and warmed me until I found myself smiling ridiculously for no reason but my own pleasure. Then, easily, he slowed our movements, moved slightly away from my body, and looked into my face. His lips moved as if in slow motion to my own. My eyes closed as we met, and my arms went around his neck. 'Perfect,' I heard him sigh to himself as he took a breath between impassioned kisses that left me unable to open my eyes. I felt him move away from me slightly then, his hands tracing my sides, my waist, my hips, and back, upward. His left hand moved to the middle of my back and pressed forward, then, while the other pressed firmly into the form within my bra. I was literally unable to raise my arms or open my eyes. I could only moan softly at the feelings it unleashed. My back arched to him. I don't know when he unbuttoned the blouse, but I felt his lips touch the naked skin of my neck, my chest, and my nipples, one after the other. My legs wouldn't hold me as he lay me back onto the bed. His hands held the shape of my calves then. Then the thighs. Then, I knew, my skirt was raised high onto my stomach. The thin material of the panties was whisked aside only the tiniest amount as my legs spread and raised. His lips kissed it. Enveloped it. Pumped it. And swallowed it whole. My eyes exploded. In a moment, my eyes re-focused, and pleasure changed to mild pain. My hands went to the back of his head, stopping what little movement his head still made.Though my head still spun, I moved to straighten my clothing, moving the bra back into place, the skirt down somewhat. I nestled my own quickly softening manhood back into the panties. I smiled into his grinning face as it raised from my waist. 'Let me up,' I said, his frown answering me. 'No, no. Not to worry.' My own sexy smile apparently answered his fears of abandonment. I directed him to move his head to the pillows where he had laid me a few moments before and rolled to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. I crossed my stocking-covered legs toward the pillows, fending off his probing hand for a moment as it tried to edge under my skirt. I let him put it on my waist as I buttoned some of the blouse's lower buttons. I couldn't help but notice as he kneaded my side, looking at me as I moved. It was very flattering. I turned to him then, smiling and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Finally, I got to his waist and he sucked in his breath to let me pull the shirt from his pants and spread it wide over his naked, almost hairless chest. As I held the shirt wide, I kissed his chest softly, looking into his waiting eyes with my own smile and letting the long hair of my wig brush across his stomach. Moving slightly, I moved to his face, my hands on either side of it, and kissed him softly on the lips. They opened, but I didn't allow my own to do the same, but instead caught the sensitive skin of the inside of his lips. I moved away from him then, moving down his body and undoing his pants. In a single movement, I stripped down his pants and underpants, leaving him standing tall from his body. Only quickly and in passing, I kissed it dryly and moved on to pull the pants off his legs. Then I pulled off his socks as sexily as he had mine earlier, running my hands across his naked feet and legs. He reacted by starting to sit up, but with one hand, I forced him back to the bed. Now, completely revealed, I looked at him from about the level of his knees and smiled again at his embarrassed nakedness. I moved quickly to try to make him feel more comfortable or, at least, to divert his attention. I stood up next to the bed and clasped my knees together under the short skirt. My hands went to my false breasts through the blouse, kneading them as my eyes closed and my tongue traced the shape of my upper lip and tasted the lipstick. I peeked through my clasped eyelids and saw his continuing arousal as he watched me; rapt. My hands went to the hem of the skirt and started to edge it upward until, I knew, the white of the panties again showed. Then I slowly turned until my back was to him and continued to edge the hem upward until it was at my waist. Slowly, sensuously, I edged the panty material between my cheeks until it formed only a thin line of white material from between my legs to my waist, the material pulling roughly between my legs. Then I jumped to the waistband of skirt and panties and slowly threaded my hands into them to push downward until they were below my ass altogether. Then I spread my legs slightly, my back still to him, and ran my forefingers down between the cheeks. I bent at the waist slowly, arching my back and moving my hands back to my false breasts and squeezing them as my head tilted back until it almost met my back. I knew the action thrust my ass out toward him, and he could see the muscles of my legs quivering with the tension of the exercise and the excitement. Still facing away from him, I put my legs back together tightly and wiggled to let the skirt and panties fall to my knees, my ankles, and finally to the top of my shoes where I could step out of them. Then again, I spread them, reaching to the nearby nightstand where I got a healthy finger full of Vaseline. Reaching between my legs with three fingers, one on each side of the one holding the Vaseline, I felt the cold lubricant touch the naked skin of my asshole. I watched him stare at my hand as I looked over my shoulder, my finger disappearing into me then. Again, I was quite aroused as I turned back toward him, my hardness bounding slightly with the movement, rock hard. I moved to him then, bending over with my back again arched, and quickly kissed his manhood again as I got another large finger full of the Vaseline. In a motion, I moved away from it and replaced my kiss with the cold lubricant. My hands shaped themselves to his manhood, spreading the lubricant and coaxing a moan from him. Not wanting to lose the utmost of his hard-on, I quickly straddled him and, in a motion, allowed him to slip into my body. My head went back and my eyes closed with the intensity of the feeling within me. The muscles of my legs trembled with the exertion and assault on my senses as I moved up on him slightly and, as quickly, back down until it nearly went into me fully; back up and back down again until I felt him deep within me and the pubic hair against my ass. Staying very still for a long time, I let my eyes re-focus and the intensity of the feelings subside toward quiet. I leaned my head forward and saw that he was doing exactly the same thing, his eyes now focusing on my face and a smile spreading across his face. 'God, you're beautiful!' he moaned. It was exactly what I still needed. I knew I smiled broadly as I looked down at him from my superior position. I leaned back and caught myself on extended arms, feeling him inside me so far it seemed impossible, his rod moving oddly in my bowels. My head was back, just feeling the wonderful feelings of it, my chest thrust forward, my long hair dangling backward on my back, and my hard cock standing tall between us. I gasped as I felt the cold of the Vaseline in his palm as he spread it across my head and down my phallus as he worshipped it. As the heel of his hand reached my stomach, his other hand wrapped around me with added coolness for a moment. Then, together, his hands began to move up and down my length, drawing the panting breath from me with each movement. When he moved his hands up, I found myself lifting up him at the same time and, when he moved down, I dropped back onto him. The combined feelings of him inside me and around me at the same time, drove me to places I'd never been before. My mouth opened wide with the moan that was drawn and driven into me. I knew my come was literally blasting out of my body and, as I thought I was losing touch with any kind of reality, I felt the hot come in my ass and heard his vibrating moan. He pulled, holding tight around me, as he arched and came inside me. As it started to pass slightly, he began pumping hard on me and, at the same time, pumping in and out of me in opposition to his hands. I came harder than I had ever even dreamed of coming. Finally, I couldn't stand it and dropped forward onto his chest. Just before my lips found his, I opened my eyes and saw the stream of my come that strung across his face from chin to left eye. I covered his mouth, delving deep into it with my tongue, but quickly rose and began to wildly lick the come off his chin and cheek as he laughed and came inside me still again. The end © 1996 Mike Benton & Michelle Johnson

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/TG/Date with the Rabbit.txt

(unknown)

Hell Hath No Fury

'What's to stop me saying yes, taking the pill, and running off to find Kat?' I asked. She MUST have thought of that one. 'Forget Kat. She is effectively gone. I doubt that even my remaining millions would be able to find her. She could be any woman, and a harem is not the place for another beautiful young lady to be looking in.' 'So you have, in all practicality, killed her.' 'No, as a doctor I have sworn to protect life. She has about ten years as a harem sex slave before she is released. That will make her nearly forty. No doubt she would try and come running to find you, but with no birth certificate, no documents, and looking very Arabic, I very much doubt she could leave the country. These Bedouin harems are given free reign by most Middle-Eastern governments, so it's going to be impossible to track her down. Slave traders don't keep records, you know.' I wanted to cry for my poor Kat, locked away in chains in some depraved sheikh's harem, being used as just a sex and entertainment object. I knew Elizabeth was right. My darling 'Kat' was gone. 'Now back to your question about double-crossing me. You are quite correct, I have thought of that. Your natural body state is now female. The pill will change your body back to that of your male self. But the only way to keep it that way is to ingest a drug which I and only I have the means to produce. Each day you are without it, a part of you will turn back into me, this time for good, and in reverse order. That's right -- vagina first, then breasts, then head, and you know the rest. Ten days later you will resemble me again, this time for good.' 'So you will have me on a leash.' 'That's right. If you or I go away, I will leave enough drug to last you until my return. You will not be able to stray from my side forever.' 'What if you are killed or maimed in an accident?' 'Then ten days later, Dr. Elizabeth Bexley lives on in you.' 'So really, I have no choice at all.' 'You can say no and stay like that for good. I just hope you can adjust more than you have said. Otherwise, you will find womanhood a nightmare.' 'Can I think about it?' 'OK, you have two hours,' and with that, she carefully and visibly took the pill bottle, put it in her purse, and started to walk out. 'Wait, how can I think properly when every part of me is on fire in arousal?' 'Good point,' Elizabeth said, 'Fail-safe gamma disengage two hours. Fail-safe omega engage in two hours twenty minutes,' she added and went out. The waves of pleasure stopped, but I still could not move. The choice was clear. Just what would I give up for love? I had no doubt that Elizabeth was now quite insane. I was also in no doubt that she was also deadly serious. She meant to be my wife at any cost, and indeed this horrible choice must have been her plan from the start. To choose between life as a man, constrained by some chemical leash, or freedom as a woman, was really no choice at all. These past few days of being ogled at, being constantly aroused by the sight of my now tattooed breasts and body, menstruation looming, having to wear makeup, trying to find love again, and worst of all missing Kat -- this meant to me that being a woman was out of the question. Maybe someone else in the same situation would have been able to adjust, but not me. So the only other choice was to be with Elizabeth as a house-trained slave. I was in no doubt that she could and would use the threat of not giving me the drug against me, and I would be a prisoner no matter how beautiful the cell. In a way I was in the same situation as Kat, just a sex slave for an insane master (or mistress). If she could put this fail-safe thing in me, what else could she do? 'Fail-safe override,' I said. Nothing happened. I was still paralyzed. I guess if it was that easy to get round it wouldn't be a fail-safe. The command had to come from Elizabeth. There HAD to be a third option. Got it! Agree to her deal. Then use whatever allowance she gave me to try and free myself from the drug's reliance. If it was done in secret, she would never know until it was too late. Before two hours was up, Elizabeth walked back in, still wearing Kat's body. 'Fail-safe all disengage five minutes, Fail-safe Omega engage in ten minutes,' she said. The pleasure waves went away as quickly as they had come. 'What's your choice?' she demanded. 'Deal. I want to marry you. Give me the pill,' I said. She thought for a moment and gave me pill number two. I took a glass of water in slender female hands, put the glass to my full pouting lips, and took the pill. Staring down at my heaving breasts, I breathed a sigh of relief - at last, the ordeal was over. 'Liar!' Elizabeth said. My body began to sweat uncontrollably. Here it comes, I thought. Suddenly I felt sick and rushed to the bathroom and promptly threw up violently. Several more chucks later, I stopped, stood up, and saw to my horror that my breasts were still there. A quick check down THERE met only with moist, warm flesh. 'How long until I change back?' 'Never!' Elizabeth said. 'You don't think I looked at my own face for twenty years and didn't know when I was lying.' 'You mean?' 'Yes, the last pill makes all your changes permanent.' My hand went to my face and traced its gentle oval shape, and feeling tears welling up inside me, I just cried. My fate was sealed. A woman I was and a woman I would remain. 'You had a chance,' she said. 'How could I have avoided this?' I sobbed (thigh over thigh, what a pair! NO!) 'Said no to my deal.' 'Why?' 'Because you're right. I am a bitch, and now so are you.' I collapsed into uncontrollable sobs. 'Now you are me. You will need these,' she said, and she threw a passport and airline tickets at me. 'I think it's about time Dr. Elizabeth Bexley left, as I am very tired and I want to change as soon as I can,' she said. 'Wait,' I said. Kat, no, Elizabeth, held a cassette recorder in the air and said, 'This is my insurance. If anything happens to me, this will be found, and you, my dearest twin, will be in the proverbial shit.' She switched it on. 'If you don't leave now, Dr. Bexley, I will call security. My husband is due soon, and I know how you felt about being jilted by him. I don't know why you followed us here, but you MUST go. So please leave,' she said this with the distress obvious in her voice (what an actress!). 'No, you leave!' I screamed. 'This is my hotel room, and you are no longer welcome here,' she said with a hard, determined tone. 'OK, I'll go. But first I need to, you know, go.' 'Alright then.' I took off my trousers and stood in front of the bowl instinctively. I reached out for a dick but was only met by two folds of female flesh. I started to urinate standing up but quickly remembered to sit down before too much went all over the floor. Elizabeth came in and laughed in a vicious way, and threw me a skirt, saying 'you'd better wear this -- your jeans are dirty now'. I put on the patterned skirt. It reached down to my ankles and made me almost sick seeing it there. 'Time to go, Liz,' Elizabeth said, starting the cassette tape again. And I went out, taking the tickets with me. Looking at the ticket showed that they were for the 03:10 flight to JFK only. This was my only chance of escape. The passport showed the face of Elizabeth Bexley, Ph.D. Looking at the details caused my heart to sink. Name: Dr. Elizabeth Bexley Hair: Auburn Eyes: Blue Height: 1.77 Meters Sex: Female The 'Female' part, although in the same print, burned its way from the page into my mind. Distinguishing Marks: Mole on Right Thigh (soon to have massive tattoo of a hydra, I thought). Occupation: Medical Doctor. Looking at the time in the hotel (since I grew HER arms, my watch didn't fit), I saw I had a full six hours to kill. I needed to be alone, and so I walked. No longer in the confines of my hotel room, I could not explore my body anymore, but every sway of hip, every touch of my skirt on my thighs, every bounce of breast, and every swish of hair could not deny or hide what and who I had forever become. The taxi to the airport got me to the terminal just in time to catch the flight. 8. Hell Hath No Fury ================ If Elizabeth's vengeance on me was long and convoluted, mine would be swift and immediate.I did not have the means to inflict on her the pain and suffering that she had done to me, and I knew she was due (as Kat) to leave in three days. So as I sat on the plane and flew home, I knew she mustn't be allowed to escape. Because once she was back, I would lose her forever. She did say that she wanted her body back, but I couldn't wait that long. No doubt she would ensure that I could not follow her or track her down. So the only chance I had was when she came off of her flight. I slept rough for three days. I could not bring myself to check into a motel, and besides, I had no money. I refused to take the obvious last-ditch career choice for when a girl is out of money, so I slept rough. Or rather, tried to. I was followed on several occasions, and rape seemed inevitable, but somehow each time I managed to lose my follower in the crowded streets of New York. Every hour I was awake, my sense of loss grew - Kat, my manhood, my life. I wished Elizabeth had just killed me, but this living hell followed me around. Everywhere I went, men and women went to and fro, minding their own business. To them, I was just a rather unkempt woman who had fallen on hard times. Sure, give her sympathy, but not much else. I had no prospect, only a drop into prostitution or exotic dancing, but I suspected that my tattoo would severely restrict the clients I would get. In any case, I loathed my vagina and could not face kissing a man. Let's face it, the market for lesbians who had a thing for tattoos must be very small. My mind was in a blur, but then a plan came into focus. Day came and then a night, and then it was time to move. I chose the nearest gun shop to the airport and went in. 'What'll it be, miss?' the owner said. 'I want something to protect me whilst I find work,' I tried to say seductively. 'And what work is that?' the man asked. Men were all the same. I should know, I am still one inside, and I lust after myself every day. 'What do you think?' 'I think you're a girl who enjoys a good time.' 'Do you want a freebie?' I said. The man came out from around the counter. He was easily six feet tall and had broad shoulders, his face showing the scars of several fights. 'Do you like this?' I said, and I showed my thigh with the hydra's tail tattoo on it. 'Cool tattoo,' the man said. 'It goes all the way up,' I said, 'come and see.' As he bent down to look up my skirt at the tattoo and, more than likely, my crotch, I quickly brought my leg up into his face. He screamed and collapsed into a heap. Before he could get up, I stamped my foot into his genitals, and he writhed around helpless. Just to be sure, a quick chop to the windpipe soon sorted him out. The keys were in his pocket, and as I lifted them out, I looked at the clock on the wall. Just over two hours before Elizabeth was due to arrive back. Looking at the array of weapons, I wondered which one to choose. I REALLY wanted a magnum, but could hardly lift one. So I had to settle for a small-caliber Colt. The ammo was hard to find, but eventually, I found some. Carrying the gun into an airport was going to be difficult with nothing to put it in, so looking around, I saw the man's sports bag laying behind the counter. Perfect! Fully tooled up, I hitched to the airport but remained quiet. I had no idea how I would get away with this, but nothing but vengeance mattered now. There is an old saying - before starting out on revenge, dig two graves, one for them, one for you. There was also another saying that revenge is a dish best served cold. Well, my heart was as cold and sharp as flint. I sat waiting in the arrivals lounge, my slender hand inside the bag, feeling the surprise I had for Elizabeth. I didn't have to wait long. In a crowd, I saw her, still as Kat, looking very relaxed. NOW! I thought. But there were too many people around. At a distance, I followed her. She became aware of my pursuit and started to run down a long, brightly lit corridor. 'Help me,' she screamed, but still, I pursued her, oblivious to all around me. Suddenly, I had a clear shot, and I pulled the gun from the bag and took aim. The pressure needed on the trigger was greater than I thought, and suddenly the world was in slow motion. There was a loud CRACK!, and the gun bucked in my hand. I looked up in time to see the back of Elizabeth's head explode as the shell hit the base of the skull. I heard another CRACK just in time to feel stabbing, burning pain as a bullet entered my shoulder. I was spun to the ground with the force of the impact, and the last thing I saw was the blood seeping out from the remains of Elizabeth's head. A smile spread across my face. 'All done,' I said. I awoke in prison overalls with my shoulder still aching. I was dragged into a small room, where two cops sat opposite me. 'Why'd you do it, Elizabeth?' they asked. 'You wouldn't believe me.' 'Try us. You had everything - money, looks, intelligence. You could have had any man you wanted. Why'd you kill Jane Stephens?' 'That wasn't Kat, I mean Jane.' 'Then who did you think it was?' I could see where this was leading, and I just kept quiet. 'We found this on her,' and the cop produced the cassette tape. He inserted it into a player. The conversation Elizabeth and I had before I was thrown out was replayed. 'You know what it looks like to us?' the cop said. 'What?' 'Distraught over being jilted, you decided to take a little trip to the happy honeymooners. You tried to warn Jane off, but she threw you out. You then lay in wait and blew her brains out so that hubby would come running back to you.' Some time later. 'All Rise.' 'How does the jury find the defendant?' 'Guilty on all counts.' 'Dr. Elizabeth Bexley, you have been found guilty of the first-degree murder of Jane Stephens. You will be taken from this place and brought to another where you will be executed by lethal injection. May God have mercy on your soul.' The End.

femdom, genetic change

Part 4 of 4

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/TG/Vickie_Tern/Hell Hath No Fury 4.txt

Erica's Bound Pleasure

'Master, please use me for your pleasure, I beg of you. Ravish me, master,' I plead, pouting my lips, knowing that you cannot resist. 'Very good, Erica,' you murmur, stroking my hair again. 'You are learning to obey.' 'Thank you, Master,' I whisper, grateful. The experience feels so different from the rest of my world where I am always in control. It is hard to imagine that only two hours ago, I was leaving the office perfectly dressed and taking a taxi to this tryst with my lover. One moment, Erica, executive officer, aloof and reserved, with people hardly daring to approach me. Now I kneel naked and chained at my lover's feet, knowing I have no choice but to obey his commands. Seeking once again the ultimate release from myself at his firm hands. The image of the leather collar closing around my throat reminds me of my submission. I can only wait patiently, flexing my chained wrists. I can hardly bear the tension, still feeling the hardness and warmth of your cock inside my sex, still shaking in my need to climax. Knowing that you can do anything you want with me. Just the thought sends another wave flooding through me. 'We have not finished, Erica,' you warn. 'Are you now ready to obey my original command?' You pull the leash tighter and guide my mouth to your cock, waiting for my glossed lips to part. My eyes still feel lost in the darkness of your blindfold. The gold chain around my waist only emphasizes my nakedness. My sex aches with need, parted by the two gold chains that run down over my mons and up between the cheeks of my bottom. They leave me constantly throbbing with desire, so wanton I cannot understand it. I wish my lover would slide something inside me to release my climax. I can hardly bear to wait, but I know you will punish me if I come before you give permission. I toy with the thought, knowing the thongs of your whip will excite me again. 'Yes, Master. Take me,' I murmur, flicking my flowing hair back behind my collar. I know you can see my excitement in my erect nipples and my trembling hips. You smile as you consider the boundless opportunities offered by your naked and chained lover, Erica. Where should one take her? 'Master, please use me for your pleasure, I beg of you. Ravish me, master,' you plead. I ignore your wanton charms, toying with the thoughts on how to ravish you for the remainder of the afternoon. 'Very good, Erica,' I reply, 'You are learning to obey.' I muse on the thought of our first session together and your offer of submission to my desires. 'Thank you, Master,' you whisper, quivering with desire. 'We have not finished, Erica,' I continue firmly, toying with the soft leather tip of the crop in my hands. 'Are you now ready to obey my original command?' I demand, pulling the leash tighter and guide your mouth to my hard cock, waiting for your glossed lips to part to satiate my desire. 'Yes, Master. Take me,' you whisper, as I slide between your perfectly rounded lips. I smile as I see your excitement in your erect nipples. I can feel you trembling with passion and need for release. I reach down and squeeze your right nipple, gagging your moan as I thrust inside your lips. Your tongue teases the head of my cock, licking its whole length. You revel in the familiar taste of your lover and your own love juices. Your lips wrap around me as I thrust my hard cock inside. Your head moves back and forth, pleasuring me with your oral offering. 'How much do you like to suck my cock, Erica?' 'I adore it,' you reply, just touching the tip between thrusts, before taking me deep inside you again. My cock fills your mouth as you realize the incompleteness of your reply. 'Erica, you know that your disobedience is punishable, I shall be less forgiving this time.' 'P-p-please,' you beg, bowing your head submissively, 'Master. I am yours to use as you so desire.' 'Slave, I didn't tell you to stop sucking me. You will have to learn to be more obedient, Erica.' You quiver at the thought of being punished and wonder if I will satiate the obvious desire in my throbbing cock. 'How should I punish you for such insolent behaviour, Erica?' 'Anyway you wish, Master. I am your slave. My body is yours to choose its pleasure or its suffering,' you respond, wondering what will happen next. Your pussy is totally wet at the thought. You long to touch yourself. 'Well, Erica, your master has decided.' I reply. 'I should come over your pouting lips and flickering tongue, but I shall restrain myself until you beg for me to come inside you.' 'Please, Master, come inside me, take me anywhere you wish,' you plead. 'You will beg better in a moment, my dearest slave girl.' I step back and readjust the black silk blindfold covering your eyes. I take your wrists and chain them together again behind your back, this time linking them to the two chains running down between the rounded cheeks of your ass. You immediately pull your wrists back to pull the chains tighter into your pussy, one running each side of your clitoris. You gasp in wanton pleasure at the feeling, tugging gently and wiggling your bottom. You know how close I am behind you. You can almost feel my voice 'Erica, if you come without your master's permission you will suffer'. Your hands remain still, as your sex shakes in expectation of climaxing. You feel my hands brush your pubes as I attach something to the two chains at the front, just where they meet the chain around your waist. You gasp as cold chain touches your stomach and reaches up between your breasts. You are silent as I thread the chain through a chrome loop on your collar. You almost come as I tug gently, making your pussy surge with desires, the chains wet with your juices again. You moan helplessly as I lead you from the room, your bare feet noticing the change from marble to stone. The chain feels so taut between your legs, pulling your chained wrists tightly against your ass. 'Master, your slave offers herself for chastisement or fucking. Please, please take me. Use me. I cannot bear the suspense.' 'Erica, I will decide what will happen with you. You can tell me, as I punish you, everything you desire me to do with you.' 'First you must wait.' You feel the chain tighten as it is hooked to the wall, another orgasm seems close. Your erect nipples tense at the touch of the stone wall. Your bare thighs rest firmly against the wall. You are unable to turn in any direction. You wait. You hear me step away and a door open to one side. You suddenly feel alone. Is this your punishment you wonder? Time seems to stop as you move your wrists, making the chains seesaw in your open pussy. You push your sex brazenly against the wall, the cold soft stone embracing your hot clitoris. You gasp as it quells your desire, stopping another wave of orgasmic sensation in your sex. You repeat the process over and over, moaning as the intense feeling grows inside you and gasping for breath as you control yourself. You feel beads of sweat on your body as it shakes with uncontrollable desire. It seems to last forever. 'I do hope you haven't come, Erica. You know that I tell,' I say as my return interrupts your thoughts. My finger reaches between your legs and pushes just inside your pussy. You moan pleadingly, 'Please, master. Feel how hot I am for you, master.' I reach up and let you suck your juices from my finger, admiring your perfect red lips. I release the blindfold, letting your long black hair fall onto your shoulders, and turn your lips to face me. 'I have chosen what you should wear for this evening. Come with me.' Your eyes blink in the candlelight as you realize I have changed into evening dress. Just the thought of being naked and bound before your formally dressed lover makes you shudder.I lead you through the large oak door and we stop before a table covered in white silk with various objects laid out in front of you. "Erica, do you submit yourself to your punishment for your disobedience?" I inquire, lifting your chin to me and looking straight into your green eyes. "Absolutely, master. Use me as you wish. Anything you command is my desire," you reply as I unfasten the chains from your collar and waist. The two wet chains slide reluctantly from between your legs. I lift them to your lips, and you lustfully lick your juices from them. I release your wrists, leaving you naked apart from the collar around your neck, symbolizing your submission. "Erica, I command you to perfume yourself and adjust your makeup. Then attire yourself with everything on the table." Your scent can hardly mask your arousal. You paint your lips deep red, imagining them still wrapped around my hard cock. You slide the sheer black hold-up stockings up your legs, the lace tops just reaching the tops of your thighs. The shoes are a perfect fit, black soft leather Edwardian boots with high heels. I admire your gaping pussy as you bend to lace the boots tightly around each ankle. You notice that there are two straps that wrap around each ankle and fasten them tightly on the outside. Their purpose becomes clear when you see the chrome rings on each strap inside your ankles. The black silk panties are an unexpected item. You pull them up against your open sex and immediately know how wet they are. They have ribbons at each side. You cannot imagine wearing them for very long. You gasp in desire at the gloves, sensuous black suede with laces that rise past the elbows. You tingle with desire as you slide each one on. You offer me each wrist in turn so that I can pull the lacing tight. You flex your fingers to indulge in the sensation. The gloves also have a wrist strap which I fasten tightly and another at the top above the elbows. You wonder how far forward your breasts would thrust if I joined both of your elbows. The black leather bustier seems to be almost a four-inch belt. I reach under your tingling breasts as I lace it tightly behind you. You look down, your breasts are bare but lifted forwards. Your nipples show your intense arousal. I reach up and unfasten your collar, only to replace it with another, wider and softer. So wide it almost lifts your chin. You shudder as I fasten the three straps under your dark hair. The collar is joined to the belt by a leather strap, completing the harness. "Touch yourself with your leather-covered fingers, Erica," I order. You immediately thrust a finger into your sex, making you moan, the other hand opens your pussy and circles your clitoris. You cry out in pleasure. "Stop. Slaves only pleasure themselves for their masters," I order. Your face grimaces. "Touch your bottom with your fingers," I continue, "Imagine it is my hard cock there." You hesitate slightly. I reach out and squeeze your left nipple, harder and harder, watching your finger slide between the cheeks of your bottom. I admire your wanton moans as your leather-covered fingers toy with your ass. "You look wonderful. Completely ready for your submission. I think I will not blindfold you until later, slave." "Fasten this chain to the ring just below your breasts and offer it to me," I command. You sigh in your submission as you hand me the chain to lead you into the main room. I lead you to a chain which hangs from the ceiling in front of a huge mirror. You admire how desirable you look. You shiver as you see a small table nearby holding two thonged whips, a crop, and two black leather phalluses. You cross your wrists, waiting for them to be joined. You gasp as I take your right wrist and pull it up towards your left elbow, fastening it tightly to the strap above the elbow. You offer your left wrist to be bound to the other elbow. "Good, you are beginning to obey, Erica." Your breasts thrust out in front of you wantonly, stretched by the tightness in your elbows. I wrap another wide strap around your already bound forearms, tightening the straps to ensure your arms are tight. I fasten a chain the strap to a ring at the back of your collar, pulling tightly to raise your chain and pull your head back slightly. You experiment with raising your tightly bound arms rather than leaning your head back. You elect to keep your head, apart from glancing in the mirror to admire your taught bound body. You feel confused as I fasten the chain loosely to a ring in the middle of your back, wondering its purpose. "Open your legs, Erica," I order. "Wider, Erica." I kneel and attach a chrome bar between your ankles, to each of those rings on the straps of your boots. Your sex feels wide apart. I admire your arousal as I fasten the center of the bar to a ring in the floor. "You are so helpless, Erica, I could take you anywhere." "Please, master, anything," you plead. I adjust the chain in the middle of your back. "Erica, your punishment is about to begin." You look glazed in erotic anticipation, "I am totally yours, master." "Bend forward, Erica." You lean forward as I pull the chain from between your breasts. You fall forward, only to feel the chain fastened to your back tighten and keep your bottom raised in the air. I pull down further until you are at right angles, tensioned between two chains. Your legs feel so wide apart. You know the thin silk offers little protection from a hard cock or the thongs of the whips. You struggle with the tension in your arms and find yourself lifting your head to look straight forward and thrusting your breasts wantonly forward. You shudder as I play with your sensitive breasts, "Maybe, a small clip would help you remember your obedience, you wanton slave." You part your lips pleadingly, struggling to adapt to the tension of your bondage, your back arched painfully. I run my fingers over your turned-on flesh, making you tremble. I decide to do it differently, an improvement in Erica's plight. I take a small harness that wraps over both shoulders and fastens in the middle of the back. You gasp as it tightens, and I fasten another chain from the ceiling to it. It pulls your head and shoulders up, arching your back perfectly. I stand in front of you. Your taught body offered your mouth to my cock. My fingers run over your lips. "Well, Erica, such a haughty bitch before you discovered your desires. Now desperate to suck my cock and pleasure her true master." You part your lips expectantly. "Fuck my lips, master." Your eyes are glued to the mirror as I walk behind you and touch you inside the silk panties. "Such a wet and wanton slut. Yet, you haven't learned to obey instantly. How you will plead if I chose to ravish you here with soft leather thongs." "I will obey, master. Anything you desire." You almost come at the thought, only the tension of your bonds restricting you. "First, I shall leave you to contemplate your obedience properly. I shall return soon to finish your punishment."

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/Bondage/Unknown.Erica's_Bound_Pleasure.txt

J. Boswell

Christmas with the Andersons 03

'Lakeview Crest,' where the Andersons lived, was a fairly exclusive development of large suburban homes. The land had once been a farm on the crest of a hill overlooking one of the city's man-made lakes that provided water for the area. The land surrounding the community was undeveloped and would stay that way as protected watershed land. The farm should have been subsumed into the watershed decades ago, when the lakes were begun, but for some reason (probably a lot of cash spread over a lot of hands or a connection on the zoning commission) the farm was never included in the public property. Years later, a developer found the farm tucked away down a long, dusty road and made the dying farmer an offer the old farmer couldn't refuse for the continued welfare of his family. The developer quickly subdivided the property into about sixty lots (after some more money passed through some more hands) and built large homes on them. For himself, the developer restored and expanded the Civil War era farmhouse/mansion and lived on the largest and best lot, overlooking the lake. That developer was James Arthur Ripley Stone. Jim Stone was a multi-millionaire and proud to show it. He built shopping strips and malls and suburban office buildings all over the country. And this had been a particularly good year because one of his designs for a medical building became popular with the growing number of HMOs all over the nation. Business couldn't be better. One of his favorite occasions to show off was his annual Christmas Party. His house was decorated in the 1990's interpretation of Victorian England splendor. The forty-foot spruce on the front lawn was expertly shaped and strung with thousands of lights and topped with a four-foot star. For the party, between the house and tree, the lawn was covered with a huge striped tent. Inside the heated tent were more lights and trees, poinsettias, tables, chairs, a long buffet table, Santa, a band, a dance floor, two bars, and people, people, people. Walking around, greeting neighbors, friends, business associates, bankers, company attorneys and CPAs, and the pick of the people providing him and his family with services throughout the year was Jim Stone, playing his most secretly cherished role -- Lord of the Manor. Robert Anderson arrived home in time to shower and dress for the big fete. As the four happy Andersons walked hand-in-hand through the chilly-but-not-cold night to the Stone house, they waved at neighbors and enjoyed seeing all the Christmas decorations. As a neighborhood tradition, on the night of the Stone's party, the entire neighborhood was lit with luminaries placed along the curbs and up driveways. The small white paper bags glowed from the flame of the candle in each, outlining the streets and making each intersection beautiful. It was almost magical. The Andersons made their way up the long, curving driveway of the Stone house and stepped into the tent. After checking their coats, they made their way over to the line of people waiting to wish the Stones a happy holiday. Jim Stone was in a black tuxedo with a bright red velvet bow tie and cummerbund. Beside him was his statuesque wife, Regina, in a floor-length red velvet dress, and beside her, their daughter, Mindy and her husband, Carl. The Stones greeted the Andersons heartily and Regina patted Amanda on the head, "My, you've gotten so big, and so pretty! Who's this gorgeous man next to you, Amanda -- some Hollywood actor on holiday?" Amanda winced at the corniness, but was proud of her big brother, "You remember Bobby, Mrs. Stone. He's home from college." Regina Stone faked an astonished look and grabbed Bobby close to her in a bearhug, "Bobby! I hardly recognized you! College life is certainly agreeing with you. It must be all those young coeds, eh, Bobby?" Bobby could feel himself blushing, "Hi, Mrs. Stone. Good to see you again." Regina hugged Bobby tightly again and whispered into his ear, "Save a few minutes for old Mrs. Stone, later, Bobby, dear. I want to take you over to the house and show you something very special. Okay?" Bobby had no idea what she was talking about but answered, "S-sure, Mrs. Stone. Whenever you're ready." But Regina had already directed her attention to the next couple in the greeting line. Confused, Bobby made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. While he was standing there, admiring the women and girls at the party, his friend Scott sidled up beside him. "Hey." "Hey, yourself, Scott. What's up?" "Well, the food and the booze are great, as usual, but the number of unattached honeys may be at an all time low. But, damn, they all look so good, all dressed up. Anyway, the best looking girl here is your sister." "And she's hands off -- right?" "Sure, sure, Bobby. But I heard about you and one of Amanda's little playmates the other night." Bobby winced, "Yeah, Heather -- don't remind me. Any port in a storm, I guess." Scott smiled, "Yeah. Well, that's a pretty busy port. Docked there, myself, last night. She's a hot little thing!" "She is that." Bobby tilted his head towards their hosts. "So, what have I missed in the Stone's saga by being away for four months?" Scott looked over at Jim Stone, puffing on a huge cigar and laughing loudly. At his side, smiling and greeting people was his wife, Regina. Regina Stone, never at risk of being called "Lady" of the Manor, was, putting it politely, a wild woman. She was a legend in her own time. "The only thing I heard about was the Halloween party, where she showed up in a very small, very red bathing suit and with three male-model hunks in tow in red bathing suits. She said they were `Baywatch.'" "She's unbelievable." Bobby started to tell Scott about Regina's strange invitation, but decided to keep it to himself for the moment. He ordered another beer. "Amanda! Amanda Anderson!" Amanda turned from watching the dancers to see the Miller family approaching. "Hi, Mrs. Miller, Rasheed, Yolanda." Amanda's smile dimmed as she looked at Mr. Miller, "Hello." Mrs. Miller was all smiles and full of good cheer, "Amanda, where have you been, girlfriend? The kids miss you terribly. Any chance of you coming back?" Amanda had babysat for the Miller children for over a year, and had spent almost the entire summer watching them. But with starting high school and trying out for teams, she hadn't had the time. "And I miss the kids. But, no, I just don't have the time with my schoolwork and games and practice." "Well, you are the best babysitter we've ever had, dear. Isn't she, Ron?" She looked at her husband. He smiled and nodded, "No doubt about that. The best ever." Amanda spent a few minutes chatting with the young children and then wished the Millers a merry Christmas. Mrs. Miller hugged Amanda. "Thanks, Dear. Please stop by during the holidays. The kids have something wrapped for you under the tree. You have to stop by, anyway, Amanda. Besides Christmas, this year we're celebrating Kwanzaa, too. The kids are learning all about it in day school." "Sure, I'll stop by, Mrs. Miller. I think there's some stuff for Yolanda and Rasheed under our tree, too. It was nice to see all of you again. Merry Christmas." Hours later, the party had settled into its normal routine. Amanda was with her friends, taking one of the carriage rides through the neighborhood. Robert, Senior was engrossed in conversation with the other businessmen in the neighborhood, raging against government interference, wishing for the return of the Reagan years, and drinking Jim Stone's bourbon. Laurie was happily dancing the night away, and maybe holding her partners just a little tighter than necessary during the slow tunes. And, Bobby? Bobby was sitting close to the bar with a few friends when he caught Regina Stone subtly motioning to him. She was standing near the exit, curling her finger, indicating he was to join her. As he stood, Regina motioned again and disappeared out of the tent. Bobby followed Regina out of the tent and through the covered passage to the house. Ahead of him, she mounted the steps, crossed the porch and opened the front door, leaving it open behind her. ['What the hell is going on?' Bobby wondered.] She had hardly even acknowledged his existence before tonight, and now this? What did she want to show him? Why was she staying so far ahead and having him follow her? He really had no idea what was going on, but with her reputation and history of outrageous behavior, some small part of him hoped it would be something sexy. Regina Stone had been a model. Not a Milan/New York runway model, but one of the more famous local faces. She had done many area fashion shows and benefits and had been a regular in the pages of local stores' ads and catalogs. It was at a Christmas charity show, where she and a few other girls were modeling lingerie in a very private show for a very select group of wealthy businessmen that she met Jim Stone.She knew the look in his eyes the instant she saw him, and she knew she was going to marry well. Now, years later, with a husband away nine months of the year and all the money she could spend, she did exactly as she pleased and didn't care who was watching. Jim Stone had a pretty good idea what went on behind his back, but he was nearing sixty-five and could no longer keep up with his much younger wife, and he didn't want to spend the time and energy to find another wife. Besides, Regina still looked good and handled all the things he expected his wife to handle, and his ego liked the idea of these other men wanting his wife -- he wondered how many of the guests they had greeted at the start of the evening (neighbors, friends, landscapers, pool cleaners, construction workers, deliverymen and on and on) had tasted Regina's considerable charms often and enthusiastically during the years while he was away on business. And, finally, and maybe the best reason he tolerated her indiscretions was that there was no pre-nuptial agreement. Bobby was surprised to see so many people in the house. He thought the party was confined to the tent, but there were people looking at the Stone's Christmas tree, decorated differently each year (this year, it looked like all the ornaments were Irish crystal). There was food in the dining room and dozens of bottles of wine open on the table. The wide stairway was blocked with wide red ribbons -- a sign to the guests to remain downstairs. When Bobby finally saw Regina again, she was standing in the kitchen doorway. She tilted her head for Bobby to follow and walked through the crowd of caterer's people busily rushing about the kitchen with hot pans and dishes of steaming food. Around the corner, Bobby found the back stairs to the second floor. When he entered the stairwell, he saw Regina looking down from the top step. She smiled and said, "Lock it behind you, dearie, and hurry up!" As Bobby reached the top of the stairs, he looked to his right and saw what was obviously the master bedroom suite. To his left, Regina was motioning for him to join her in another room at the end of the long hall. Bobby reached the doorway and looked in, thanking the gods in heaven as he watched Regina lowering the long zipper on her red party dress. "Come in, Bobby. Don't be shy. Here, darling, help me with my zipper." Bobby stepped closer and pulled the zipper down until it stopped. Regina turned to face him and with the slightest arm motion, her dress slid to the floor. "Merry Christmas, Bobby!" Bobby stared in awe. He guessed Regina was somewhere in her mid-to-late-forties, but here she stood looking incredible. Her skin was white and smooth. Her breasts were fabulous -- high and firm on her chest. She was still wearing her high heels and pantyhose, but they were the strangest pantyhose he had ever seen. At the top, there were openings, and the hose went up to a waistband, almost like a built-in garter belt, leaving her pussy and ass naked! Regina smiled at the obvious rapture on Bobby's face. "You like, Bobby-dear?" She cupped her breasts in her hands, squeezing the flesh and pinching her nipples. "These are the best money can buy. Did your mom buy hers? Or is she one of those lucky ones who were born with a set of knockers like that? Well, come on, boy, enough gawking, let's get this show on the road! I have a party I'm hostessing!" With that, Regina reached down and started unbuckling Bobby's belt. In seconds, Bobby had shed his pants, underwear, and shoes and followed Regina down on to the big bed. "Nothing above the neck, Bobby-dear. Mustn't mess up my make-up." Bobby lavished kisses on her large tits, licking and sucking and nibbling her nipples. "Ohh, very nice, dearie. Can you go a little lower?" Eager to please, Bobby kissed his way down Regina's stomach and into her trimmed bush, finding her hard, little clit. He sucked it between his teeth and began licking it with his tongue. "Oh, god, how I love young men!" Regina exclaimed. While this wild scene played out, Bobby couldn't believe it was happening. He felt he was living out one of his junior high wet dreams. Here he was in bed with one of the major players in many of his wet dreams. Regina Stone had fueled more than a few hand-jobs. She had been the first woman Bobby had ever seen in a thong bikini. Even dressed up, Bobby had seen few lower-cut blouses or shorter miniskirts than what Regina Stone wore. He remembered some of her costumes at neighborhood Halloween parties -- as a harem girl, a sexy nurse right out of a porno video, and as Lady Godiva. He had heard the stories about her and her many torrid affairs behind Jim Stone's back. And, now, he was a participant in the legend! "Ooooo! You're good! Right there, boy. Right there. Steady... A little faster... Ooo, good... Harder... Oooo... Oooo... A-huh! Ooooo, here I come, darling! Here I come!" Bobby continued nibbling her clit until she began to regain her composure. "Oh, Bobby, that was VERY good. Come on up and fuck me now, boy!" Bobby lifted his head from her wet pussy and licked his way up to her breasts. As he did, he moved his cock into position and plunged it into her cunt. She was slippery wet and loose, and he began to feel her pussy muscles rippling along his shaft. He began to pump, and her muscles grasped him tighter. It was a great fuck! "MOTHER! Just what are you doing?" Bobby looked over at the doorway and saw Regina's daughter, Mindy standing there. Part of him wanted to pull out and run, but it felt so damned good, and Regina looked up at him and said, "Ignore her. She's jealous I got you first. Just fuck me." And Bobby did. He was soon coming in strong spurts, and Regina was heaving her hips up to meet his thrusts. Finished, he rolled off Regina and watched as she grabbed her dress. To his utter amazement, as Regina stepped into her gown, Mindy was stepping out of hers. Regina turned her back to Mindy, and Mindy pulled Regina's zipper up. Regina turned to Bobby, kissed him lightly on the lips and said, "Welcome to the club, Bobby. I'll be looking forward to seeing you when you get home for the Summer. Don't make yourself a stranger, understand?" "Sure, Mrs. Stone. And, thanks!" "You're welcome. Now you and Mindy have a good time, and I'll see you later." Bobby looked at Mindy. She was standing in her bra, pantyhose and panties, smiling at Bobby. "You must have been good, Bobby. Contrary to popular belief, Mother doesn't invite everyone back. Why don't you get comfortable?" Bobby felt foolish as he realized that he was still dressed in his blazer, shirt, tie, and socks! He quickly stripped them all off and turned to Mindy. She smiled again, "Now, can you show ME how good you are?" Bobby walked toward Mindy. Mindy wasn't the tall beauty that her mother was. She was short and lean, and not nearly as rounded as Regina. Her hair and eyes were brown, and her face was long and angular, with a fairly prominent nose and large teeth. As she dropped her bra to the floor, Bobby saw that her breasts were small and low on her chest and were already sagging. When she dropped her pantyhose and panties to the floor, Bobby noticed how thin her thighs were and how bushy her pussy was. ['Oh, well,' he thought, 'she's no beauty, but I'm not about to refuse her and destroy my welcome around here!'] Mindy dropped to her knees and sucked Bobby's sloppy-wet prick into her mouth. Bobby's fingers combed into her hair and held her face tight to his groin as his cock revived itself in her steamy hot mouth. Bobby thought his dick popped out another inch or two when Mindy slid a finger up his ass! Mindy pulled her face away from his prick and looked up at the teenager, "I want you good and hard because I like it up the ass. Have you ever fucked anyone up the ass, Bobby?" Bobby groaned and pulled Mindy up by her armpits. As they kissed passionately, Mindy rubbed her wet pussy slit up against the boy's hard cock. They both fell back onto the bed, and Mindy rolled over onto her stomach, "Butt-fuck me, Bobby! Shove it up my ass!" Over an hour later, Bobby stumbled back down to the tent. The party had cleared out considerably, and there were only a few clusters of people sitting around some tables. His parents and sister were gone. Regina Stone was sitting at one table, between her husband and her son-in-law. She smiled at Bobby as he turned away from the bar with a beer. He smiled back and made his way over to the table with Scott and a few other neighborhood friends. "Hey, bud, where the fuck you been?" Scott asked. "Around. Being a good guest, checking out the Christmas decorations." "Yeah, sure." "Truth." Bobby gulped his beer and got another one. He was wiped out. Fucking Regina had been a dream come true, but fucking Mindy had been unbelievable. She was the most outrageous woman he had ever been to bed with, and as far as he could tell, there wasn't a single thing either one of them could think of that she wasn't willing to do, and do enthusiastically. Who would believe that it wasn't sexy, obvious, flamboyant Regina, but her quiet, mousy daughter that could fuck the dead back to life! What a night! Chapter 11 Saturday, December 24 Christmas Eve! Amanda had intentionally saved some of her shopping for Christmas Eve. She loved the excitement and the hustle-bustle of that last frantic rush. Bobby slept late and went into couch-potato mode in front of the TV. There were a couple of small bowl games on, and he could always find a movie or two. Robert, Sr., relaxed in front of the fire and reviewed his portfolio as Laurie finished wrapping the last of the presents.After a late lunch, all four of them worked together preparing for an Anderson Christmas tradition. They laid out a buffet, and by eight o'clock, friends, neighbors, and relatives were stopping by to share the holiday spirit before everyone went off to Midnight Mass. Christmas Day! Laurie awoke first. She loved those first quiet moments on Christmas morning. Soon, the rest of the family would be awake and opening presents, and all the anticipation would be over. Before they knew it, Christmas would be over. But now, alone with her coffee and the radio softly playing Christmas carols, she sat and looked at the tree and the presents and savored the moment and the mood. "Mom?" It was Amanda on the steps. "Merry Christmas, Dear! Go wake your father and brother." Everyone agreed that Amanda had given the most thoughtful gifts. She gave Bobby two boxed sets of CDs, Eric Clapton and Pink Floyd, that he wanted but had never gotten around to buying. Her father loved the meerschaum pipe she gave him. And Laurie cried when she opened her package and saw the beautiful blue silk blouse that Amanda had picked out to match her mother's eyes. They all wanted to know how she had managed to save enough money to purchase such beautiful gifts. All too soon the storm of wrapping paper subsided. The hugs and kisses and thank-yous were done. The Andersons were dressed and headed out to Church, again. Amanda was singing at the 11 o'clock Mass, and the rest of the family went to hear her. After church, they headed down to the soup kitchen to serve Christmas dinner to the less fortunate and then clean up. It was a busy day. Not a creature was stirring... Everyone had gone to bed early. Amanda lay in bed and thought back over her Christmas. It had been wonderful. She loved all of her gifts and was thrilled that everyone liked the gifts she had gotten them. She was tired, but still a little too keyed up to fall asleep. She got out of bed, put her robe on, and went downstairs. The house was quiet; everyone else was asleep. She filled a tall glass with ice and then filled the glass with Irish Cream. There was still a small fire glowing in the fireplace, and the ashes were hot, so Amanda threw another two logs on the fire and curled up on the sofa. Soon, the fire was warming her outsides and her drink was warming her insides, and she began to relax. She finished the Irish Cream and poured another half-glass. She was enjoying the heat and the quiet and the tree lights and the booze. She liked the slight buzz she was feeling, too. She shifted a little on the sofa, and as she did, her nightshirt was pulled taut across her nipple. [`Oooo, THAT felt good!' she thought and then giggled.] As she held the glass in her left hand, she opened her robe and casually brushed the fingers of her right hand over her right nipple. She let out a tiny moan as she felt her nipple wrinkle and harden. [`I can't believe I'm still horny,' she thought, `but this sure feels good!'] Amanda swallowed the rest of her drink and then placed both hands over her breasts. They were firm and eager to be touched. Her nipples were hard and were getting to that point that she loved -- when she could be a little rough as she squeezed and pinched them. She wanted to come. There was no doubt about that, now. She knew she should go to the privacy of her room, but she didn't want to move. She strained her ears, listening, but the house was quiet except for the flames popping and snapping. It was sexy, and definitely very naughty to be doing it in the family room with everyone home. In front of the fireplace was nice. That warmth would feel nice on her skin. With a quick movement, Amanda stood up, lowered her panties, and sat back down on the sofa. She pulled her nightshirt up above her breasts, and she was melting in pleasure from the heat of the fireplace and her own hands. It felt so sexy sitting there with her boobs and pussy naked and exposed. She wanted to finger her clit, but she held back. She didn't want to come quickly. She wanted to build up to it slowly, thinking sexy thoughts and teasing her body with her fingers. She thought about yesterday, Christmas Eve, at the mall... Amanda had Bobby drive her to the mall and drop her off. She had told her mother that she was meeting friends there, but she was lying. Her first stop was the CD store. It was packed, and the Christmas music was blaring over the speakers. Douglas spotted her as she approached the counter. "Miss, those CDs you ordered came in. Please wait a moment." He called one of the other clerks over to take his place and walked out from behind the counter. He was twenty-six years old and the assistant manager of the store. He was tall, a bit over 6'3" and on the skinny side. He tried to be cool, but he tried even harder to impress his bosses, so he always wore a suit and a tie. As he approached Amanda, he pointed to the backroom door. "Hi, Amanda. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up, today." He liked young girls and used his ability to pass out CDs and cassettes to get on their friendly side every chance he could. "I told you I'd be in, Douglas. The CDs are a present." "Sure. Well, come on in the back." They stepped into the storeroom, and Douglas shut the door behind them. There was a table set up with cold cuts and rolls and cookies. On the shelves were bottles of scotch and bourbon and vodka. "Having a little party, back here, Douglas?" "Sure. The boss treated to drinks and food. I can't be away from the front for long, so let's get right to it, Amanda." Amanda grinned at Douglas, "Did anyone ever tell you how romantic you are?" "Cut the crap. Let's do it." He opened his pants and lowered his zipper. He was already hard. Amanda stepped close and curled her fingers around his shaft. "Kiss me, Douglas. I want to be kissed." Douglas had fucked a lot of teenage girls, but none of them had been as beautiful or as accomplished as Amanda Anderson. Since August, he had been giving her CDs and his hard cock on a weekly basis, and she had been giving him the best sex he ever had. They kissed, and Douglas's hands found their way to Amanda's breasts. She was wearing a vest over a soft turtleneck top. Under the top was only her tits. Her hard nipples were easy to find, and Douglas began pulling at them. "C'mon, Amanda. It's got to be quick, today!" They separated, and Douglas sat down on a small desk chair. Amanda lifted her denim miniskirt and lowered her tiny panties and straddled Douglas on the chair. Within seconds, Douglas's dick was buried to the hilt up Amanda's tight little pussy. "C'mon, now, and fuck me, Amanda. Give it to me good!" He smiled as he looked at the girl. She was bouncing up and down on his cock. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she was breathing hard through her mouth -- moaning and groaning. The bitch truly loved fucking! As much as he was enjoying it, Douglas felt himself boiling up to blast-off point. And then he was over the top, pulling Amanda down hard on his lap and lifting her by her waist, pumping his cum deep inside her. He was just about finished coming when... "What the fuck is going on here?!" It was the store owner. Peter Abruzzi was thirty-eight, married with four kids, and ran three stores. He was short and bulky, like an old time running back. He was a tough businessman and a bastard to work for. Douglas pushed Amanda off his lap, and she fell to the floor. She landed there with her skirt up to her waist and her pretty legs spread wide open, flashing an open, wet beaver at the intruder. She quickly stood up as Douglas was zipping up. "Ah... Mr. Abruzzi... Ah... I can explain!" "No you can't, Douglas." He hooked his thumb at the door. "Get back out on the floor. Now!" When he was gone, Abruzzi looked at the gorgeous teenager standing in front of him. She had paled considerably in the last minute or so and was obviously scared. "So, tell me. What was he givin' you for lettin' him bone you?" Amanda was going to lie and say `nothing' but she quickly decided that the truth didn't matter. "A boxed set of Eric Clapton CDs." "A boxed set, eh? You that good?" "He says I am." "S'at so? Well, how about this, little girlie? I get to see for myself how good you are?" Amanda didn't say anything, but shook her head. "No? Well, how about I make this clear? You walk with me through that door and we go to Mall Security and call the county cops, or you walk over here and unzip me." Amanda walked over to the owner and knelt. She reached up and pulled his zipper down. She reached inside the opening and found his cock, feeling it growing hard in her hand. "Taste it, bitch." Amanda leaned forward and took his hardness into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the smooth, pink tip, and it no longer mattered whose cock it was. She loved the way penises felt. She loved the smoothness and the firmness and how warm they were. Abruzzi was enjoying the blow-job, but he wanted a piece of this young pussy. "Stand up. Walk over to the chair and bend over." Amanda did as she was told and pulled her skirt up to her waist without being told. Abruzzi stepped behind the teenager and began pushing his cock between her pink pussy lips. She was tight, and the owner was afraid he was going to cum even before he got it all the way in her! He didn't last much longer than his first deep thrust. The kid matched his rhythm, and before he could blink, he was spewing his goo into the little slut's pussy. "Whew! What a fuck! Douglas is right, you are good." Amanda was blushing wildly as she stepped and wiggled into her panties and lowered her skirt."Can I keep the CDs, mister?" "Huh? Oh, sure. Sure. Here," he said as he reached to a shelf, "take another one, too. You like Pink Floyd?" "Yeah, sure. Thank you." Peter Abruzzi was sitting in the chair, still catching his breath and fixing a drink as Amanda placed the new set into her bag and reached for the doorknob. "Well, thanks again. And... and Merry Christmas." Abruzzi looked up and stared as the beautiful teenager waved and walked out of the store room. In front of the fireplace, Amanda let her finger trail down over her smooth stomach and through her pubic hair. Slowly, oh so slowly, she pressed her index finger between her labia and grazed it across her hard little clitoris. "OH!" Sensitive. Very sensitive. She decided not to touch her clitoris again for a while if she wanted to last a little longer. Go slow. She was looking forward to a great orgasm. She was relaxed and warm and buzzed. Her body was very sensitive, and she had sexy thoughts to think... Amanda found Snake and Spider at the fountain in the center of the mall. She giggled to herself at their silly nicknames. Snake was really Brandon and Spider was Jason, but they insisted on their friends using their nicknames. Especially when they were decked out in their skateboard "uniforms" the way they were whenever they weren't in school -- baggy jeans, old Converse shoes, long t-shirts and earrings and fake (at least Amanda thought they were fake) tattoos. "Hey," Spider said. Snake nodded. "Hey." Amanda had run into the two guys at parties. They were both freshmen in high school and were inseparable. "What's up?" "Just shopping. I saw a pipe I'd like for my father, but I can't afford it." "Tough." "Yeah. I was wondering..." "Yeah?" Amanda had a feeling they knew what she was going to ask them, but they weren't volunteering anything. "Yeah. I was wondering, like, if we could work out some kind of trade. I really want that pipe." "What ya got to trade?" It was the first thing Snake had said, so Amanda knew he was interested. Amanda looked down at her feet, acting coy. "You know." "When? Where?" Spider asked. Amanda looked up at him, "Now? Here?" "Deal!" That was Snake. In the tobacco store, everything went smoothly. The clerk was weighing tobacco for Amanda and had his back to the store. Snake came rolling in and went right to the cigar humidor room and opened the door. The owner stepped quickly after him, telling him to shut the door. Spider popped into the store, Amanda pointed at the pipe in its nice little box and everything disappeared under Spider's shirt before he popped out of the store, again. They met in the utility access hall, outside the restrooms. Spider gave Amanda her package and Snake checked the men's room and signaled with his head for them to follow. The three teenagers went to the last stall and closed the door after them. It was crowded and clumsy, and they all got the giggles every time they heard someone come in and use the facilities, but it was fun and didn't take all that long to complete their business. The real joke occurred when they were done. They opened the stall door and there was an older man standing at the mirror, combing his hair. They walked across the room, staring straight ahead at the door. They knew the man was watching them in the mirror. They finally reached the door and ran down the hall, laughing hysterically. Amanda was now on the floor with her back against the sofa. She was closer to the fire and it was almost too hot on her skin, but it still felt so good. Her skin was dry and warm, a lot like when she sunbathes. A lot like when she was sunbathing last summer at the Miller's pool... Marian Miller was away again. She worked for a publisher and this summer she was traveling with some authors on a long sales trip. Rasheed and Yolanda were playing in the shallow end. Amanda was on a chaise watching them when Ron opened the back door of the house. "Daddy's home!" Both kids squealed and ran to him. After hugging and lifting the kids, Ron waved to Amanda. "Hi, Mr. Miller. I have dinner ready, if you feel like pasta salad and grilled chicken." "Sounds great, Amanda. Will you join us?" "Yeah, stay, Amanda!" yelled Rasheed. He knew if she stayed, he'd get a book or two read to him before bed. "Well, okay, if you don't mind." This was becoming a habit. Amanda had been babysitting for the Millers for almost a year, but with Marian's traveling, it was a full-time job this summer. Now, for the last week, Amanda would have dinner ready for Ron and the kids and he would invite her to stay. They would do the dishes together and together they would put the kids to bed, and then Amanda would walk home. She felt herself becoming closer to the three of them, like being a part of their family. Marian was some abstract being that lived somewhere out over the phone lines. Ron, on the other hand, was very much there. He was good-looking and funny. He was very sweet with his children, and was always a gentleman around Amanda. At the same time, Amanda got the impression he found her attractive. She often caught him staring at her in her bathing suit or shorts. She also found him attractive. His skin was smooth looking and the color of coffee with cream in it. He had a thin mustache that she liked. In a bathing suit, it was obvious he worked out. But he didn't bulge like a gym-rat. He was bulked, but hard and smooth. His torso tapered from broad shoulders down to a flat stomach and trim hips. Then one night, Ron opened a bottle of wine and kept Amanda's glass full during dinner. After they got the kids in bed, he invited her to stay for coffee, telling her he was tired of sitting by himself until bedtime. With the coffee, he served her a Tia Maria mist, and she loved it. He refilled her coffee and drink and put a movie in the VCR. They both sat on the sofa watching "Sleepless In Seattle." Before the movie ended, they were in each other's arms, kissing passionately. At that time, Amanda was a virgin. She had made-out with boys when the lights went out at parties, but nothing more serious than that. But this... This was Romance and she was ready to be swept up in its embrace. Ron stood up and lifted Amanda into his arms. Oh, god, her heart melted! They kissed as he walked down the hall and into his bedroom. He lay her down on the big bed and began to undress. Amanda was in a one-piece bathing suit and beach wrap, which she quickly shed. Ron moved beside her and caressed her budding breasts. It was the first time anyone besides herself had seen them naked and touched them. She tingled to his soft, gentle touch. Her breathing quickened. He moved his face over one of her breasts and gently sucked a nipple into his mouth. His free hand glided down her body to her pussy. She felt his fingers spreading her lips down there and touching her clitoris, she trembled with so much pleasure, she thought she was going to scream and cry and wet herself all at the same time. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't stand his touch anymore, but she knew she'd die if he stopped. It was her first orgasm. When she was able to breathe again, she smiled at Ron and hugged him, "Wow! Thank you!" Ron smiled back and rolled onto his back. His penis looked huge to Amanda, but even she had to admit that she wasn't an expert at the time. He cradled her head on his shoulder and guided her hand down to his erection. She was shocked when she touched him. She didn't know what to expect, but what it felt like was a surprise. It was warm and soft. But firm and hard. It was dry and the skin slid up and down on the shaft. The tip was so smooth and the flesh under the round head was so soft. His hair was tight and curly, and covered the sac of balls. She loved it! She felt his hand on the back of her head and she knew what he wanted. She and Amber and Heather had often talked about sex and how to do it. The three of them had agreed that they would never put a penis in their mouths -- not the thing boys pee with! But here she was, eagerly and curiously moving her mouth to do exactly that! She licked it. She sucked it. She kissed it. She made it wet with her saliva. And Ron seemed to be enjoying everything she was doing. Finally, Ron pulled her face away from his penis and she knew what was next. It was the next logical step and she wanted it. She knew at that moment that she loved this beautiful man. Ron reached over to the night table and squeezed something clear out of a tube and spread it over the head of his penis. Then he knelt between Amanda's wide-open legs. "Is this your first time?" Embarrassed, Amanda nodded. "If it hurts, it will only hurt for a second and then it will feel good. Okay? Do you trust me, Amanda?" Again, she nodded. But it didn't hurt. Maybe it was horseback riding, or her gymnastics or the other sports she played, but there was definitely no pain. Amanda knew she was addicted to what they were doing from the second that his penis head spread her labia and plunged into her. She had never felt anything like it! The pleasure of feeling so spread, so filled and all her nerves down there sending pleasure messages to her brain. She knew she never wanted to stop having sex with Ron Miller. And have sex with him she did. All summer. The day after that first time Amanda went to the clinic and started on the birth control pill. Ron used condoms until it was safe. As soon as the kids were in bed, so were they. Marian would come home for a day or two and they would stop, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Then she would leave and Ron and Amanda would get right back to it. He showed her what he liked and what positions he wanted.He loved fucking doggie-style and having his dick sucked, but he never went down on her. She asked him once, late in the summer, and all he said was that he didn't do that. It didn't really matter all that much to her. When the end of the summer approached, Amanda began to wonder what was going to happen. As unlikely as their situation looked because of their ages, Amanda had told Ron that she loved him, and she had shown him she could handle the house - cooking and cleaning and raising the children. He had to know she wasn't doing it for the lousy five dollars an hour they were paying her. But Marian returned, and Ron didn't say anything to Amanda other than "thanks for your help with the kids." Her heart was broken. But it didn't take long to find out that Ron was not the only man in the world. Weekend parties offered Amanda her choice of boys -- and she exercised that choice. Now, almost naked before the dying fire, Amanda spread her pussy lips with her fingers and with her other hand inserted three fingers into her pussy as she rubbed her clit with her thumb. She was thinking of the date she had had with a boy named Philip. Philip was only visiting for the weekend, and he had begged -- actually begged! -- Amanda to let him eat her. It had been her pleasure! Just like now! She was losing control. She was about to come. She knew she was going to scream, so she bit a mouthful of her robe and nightshirt. She was coming! Oh, GOD! How she was coming! Her whole body, her whole mind was coming! She was lost to the world. She was going to scream, to faint, to cry. OH, GOD, WHAT A COME! It went on and on and on. It was the come she had wanted. Long and intense and deep. Oh, god! She lay there and spit the cloth from her mouth and replaced it with a silly grin. Oh, that was GOOD! It would be perfect if she could feel a big, fat, hard cock sliding into her wet pussy, deeper and harder than her fingers had been. Oh, she'd love to be getting fucked right now! And she's laying there on the floor, with her nightshirt rolled up to her neck, her legs spread wide. The mantle clock softly chimes midnight. Christmas is over. Amanda hears a quiet noise at the doorway. She looks up. She doesn't move. She smiles. "Hello, big brother..."

Chapter 10 Friday, December 23 -- Part 2

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/Wifeslut/J_Boswell/Christmas with the Andersons 03.txt

Experiment -f-teen

'Won't this class ever be over?' Kris mumbled to herself. She looked at her watch again. Three more minutes to go. It wouldn't be so bad, except Economics is so boring. The wait was killing her. She had been thinking about this all weekend. Kris was waiting for the class to end so she could go see Professor Ritter about the experiment she was chosen to participate in. She was very excited, for she had never been involved in a psychology study before. When the letter arrived approving her application to participate, she wondered what it meant by she should be an ideal candidate for the study. It did make her think. Though she wasn't an airhead, she wasn't the brightest person on campus. On the other hand, she was one of the better-looking girls around. She was about 5'3" tall, with long wavy blonde hair, an even bronze tan from the California sun, a perfectly rounded ass, slender legs, and firm breasts. At last, the teacher closed his book and dismissed the class. Kris was moving before the words were completely out of his mouth. She moved quickly around several other students that were closer to the door and burst into the hallway. She quickly made her way out of the building, turned west, and headed across the college campus to the Psychology building. It was a long walk, but she walked fast and was there in a few minutes. She headed for the elevator, going to the fifth floor. The doors opened, she opened her purse and pulled out the letter. 'Room 5123,' she again mumbled. After a few turns, she found the room and went in. A secretary greeted her. 'I'm here to see Professor Ritter.' 'Your name is?' the older lady asked. 'Kris Stuart.' 'Oh yes, Miss Stuart, he's expecting you. He'll be with you in a moment.' Kris sat down. She was nervous, yet excited. This was totally new to her, for she really didn't think much of Psychology, taking the required course. She wasn't quite sure what the study was all about. On the application, there were several questions about her dreams. Maybe it was some kind of sleep test. That would be easy enough, and she could earn the twenty bucks the easy way. The door opened and the old professor asked her to come in. The room was as to be expected. A big oak desk, two high-back chairs, several awards on the wall, and stacks of papers everywhere. Kris saw across the professor. Though he was older, he still was a sharp guy and taught an interesting class. After several minutes of small talk, the teacher got into it. 'I'm conducting an experiment, or should I say some research concerning people's inner thoughts, their deepest dreams. I want to find out what people are like deep within their subconscious.' 'Sounds interesting. What do I have to do?' She asked anxiously. 'That's the best part, you have to do very little. My little box takes care of all the rest.' 'What box?' she questioned. He turned around and pulled a large black box from under his desk. It looked a lot like a video tape recorder, only a little bigger. 'It's a VCR,' she stated. 'Yes and no. We used the guts from one, but modified it to receive brain waves instead of video signals. It works much like a VCR, but it only records. We play the tape back on a standard unit.' 'With it, we can read someone's mind, then record it onto video tape, image and sound alike. It's taken me two years to develop and perfect it, but now I have it refined to a very high reliability rate.' 'When do we begin the test?' Kris asked. 'You are going to take the unit home with you. We have found that it works better when the subject is in a familiar, comfortable environment.' Professor Ritter proceeded to show Kris how the unit operates and what she would have to do to use it. He then pulled a small prescription bottle out from his desk and opened it up. He pulled out a rather large pink pill from the container and handed it to Kris. 'What's this?' 'This is a drug that will help bring out your subconscious. Take this right before you start the unit. It will help you to relax and probably make you sleepy. Just relax and let the unit do the work. When something occurs, the unit will begin recording.' 'Sounds simple enough. It won't, like, hurt, will it?' 'No, of course not. You won't feel a thing. One last thing. Please don't play the tape after you have done the test.' 'Why not?' she asked. 'In case something very, well, shall I say, scary pops up. We have had a few cases of things like that occur. It also helps keep a control factor in the study. Believe me, for both reasons, don't view the tape.' She agreed to his condition. He gave her the unit, gave her a blank tape, and ensured she had the drug. They packed the unit up in a padded case, and said their goodbyes. Kris cut her last class and headed for her dorm room. Daddy had made sure she would get a private room on campus, with all the gadgets she would need to make her feel at home. Kris set the unit up according to the professor's instructions. She set it up next to the couch, within arm's reach. She turned the phone off, closed and locked the windows, pulling the shades down and turned off all the lights. She then got a glass of water and laid down on the couch. She placed the headband on her head, making sure the wires were all plugged in tight. She pulled out the drug from her purse, popped it in her mouth and chased it down with a long drink of water. She flipped the box on, laid back, folded her hands across her stomach, and relaxed. The drug worked quickly, for within a few minutes, she felt all of her muscles relax and her eyes grow heavy. Within a couple of minutes, she had slipped into a light sleep. After several minutes of her sleep, the unit detected something and began to record her impulses. Kris awoke from her nap. The room must have gotten warmer, for she seemed to have worked up a bit of a sweat. She looked over at the unit. It was in the standby mode. She then looked at the clock. It was about an hour and a half later. Though she had slept for that long, she didn't feel rested. She knew she had some kind of dream too, but couldn't remember it. She took the headband off, rewound the tape and popped it out of the unit before turning it off. She held the tape in her hands for a few minutes. The professor said not to view it, for it might scare her. But what could scare her, her own dreams? Besides, she loved scary movies. 'Damned if I'll do this and not see what the results are. I want to see this,' she said to herself as she pressed the play button. She went over to her own VCR, turned it on and put the tape in. At first the screen was blank, only a few flickers of light here and there. But as the tape went on, the screen seemed to fade into a picture, like a fog was lifting. The tape ran like a movie, for there was movement and sound. The quality was good, for everything was clear and sharp. When it fully cleared, and the image formed, Kris got quite a surprise at what it showed. There were two people or images on the scene, herself and a man whom she didn't know. They were in a room, she didn't know where. The man was tall and very muscular, with blonde hair and a mustache. He was dressed only in a pair of tight black leather pants. They were so tight, the huge bulge from his groin was prominent. He wore black shoes, but his chest was bare. Kris' attire was rather unusual too. She had on a black G-string, a black garter belt, stockings, and black spiked high heels. That was it. Her chest was bare, and her nipples were hard and erect. Kris never wore something like that, but she thought to herself that she did look very sexy. At first, Kris thought that this was going to be some kind of seduction scene, where the two of them would head to the bedroom and fool around. Here she could see how she looked when she had sex. But it didn't work out that way. Instead, the man stood behind her and pulled her arms behind her back. He then produced a length of rope and proceeded to tie her hands together. Kris looked on in shock. She looked at her image's face. She looked like she was in distress, yet at the same time excited and enjoying it.The man's face was like stone, very determined. The man then bound rope around her arms, pulling them closer together. This made her ample chest stick out even further. There were a few groans, but it didn't seem like they were of suffering. It seemed to Kris that her image was struggling because she wanted to, not because she was trying to get free. The man then spun her around. His hands moved over her chest, squeezing her fleshy mounds and pinching her nipples. Her image tilted her head back in pleasure and let out a soft moan. He then grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him, pressing her body onto his, and kissed her passionately. Her image again moaned as her hips ground into his. They kissed for at least a minute before he pulled her away. He then shoved a black cloth into her mouth and covered it with folded cloth that tied behind her head. Her image moaned when he pulled the gag tight, as if to say "what took you so long?" He moved her over to a post in the room and tied a rope around her and the pole. He then tied her ankles together and roped them to the post. Her knees were tied and attached also. He then took more rope and wound it around her and the pole until she couldn't move an inch. All the ropes were a bright white against her tan skin and black stockings, and pulled very tight. He then picked up a hunting crop and walked around her several times, lightly swinging the crop in his hand. Kris wondered if he was going to whip her image with it. Was that what she wanted - to be beaten while tied helpless? But instead, he used it to examine her body and point out areas of interest. At one point, he lifted one of her breasts with it, and caressed her cheek with the tip. Her image again was lightly moaning as she wiggled around in the confining web of ropework. He then sat down near her and began to ravish her with his eyes. He toyed with the crop as he took in every inch of her. Her image squirmed around, but would only look at the lump in his pants. She was hot and horny, and wanted to be fucked by the strong master who had imprisoned her. The image faded away for a moment. "No, come back damn it," Kris said to the TV. "I want to see what happens." A new image began to form. Again the two characters were there, dressed the same way. It appeared that he had freed her from the post and was about to do something else. Her hands were still tied behind her back, as were her arms. Her legs were free, but the gag remained between her lips. He stood in front of her, rubbing the hunting crop between her legs and over her crotch. Her image again tilted her head back and moaned. He then knelt down and pulled the G-string down her legs very slowly, exposing her hairy bush. She now stood naked in front of the man, wearing only her garter belt, stockings and heels. He then tied her ankles together very tightly. "Don't tie them together," Kris thought to herself. "Can't you see she wants to get screwed? Spread her legs and do it." He stood up and moved about her, touching everywhere. Her image squirmed around, moaning through the gag as he toyed with her trussed body. He then made her kneel on the floor. He helped her down, making her kneel with her back straight. Again he walked around her as she struggled in her ropes. The waiting was driving her wild. Kris' crotch was getting hot and horny too. She didn't realize it, but her hand had moved down between her legs and was now rubbing herself. The man then stood in front of her image, his groin right in front of her face. Her image nuzzled into his crotch, moaning for him to open his pants and expose his manhood. The man slowly zipped his pants open. As he did, Kris unzipped her own pants and moved her fingers down to her wet pussy lips. The man then pulled out the hugest prick Kris had ever seen. It had to be ten inches long, and as thick as her wrist. It seemed to be pulsating with power. Again her image nuzzled into his crotch, moaning for him to pull the gag from her mouth and replace it with his cock. He did just that, yanking the cloth from between her lips, pulling the other cloth out and shoving his cock into her hungry jaws. Kris was amazed that her image took the whole thing in. As her image went to work on the raging hard-on, Kris' own hands were moving in and out of her crotch and rubbing over her clit. She watched as her image gave the man head, how both of them were moaning in sexual pleasure. Kris felt herself getting close to an orgasm. Her eyes were glued to the television set, watching the two people as her fingers brought her closer to an orgasm. Suddenly, she let out a moan and rubbed her clit hard and fast, squirming in the chair. Her climax came quickly and powerfully. She closed her eyes and moaned as she continued to masturbate herself, the orgasm flooding her senses with sexual delight. After her orgasm was over, she again opened her eyes and looked upon the images. The man was about to orgasm. He moaned really loud, and pulled his bound prisoner's lips down to the base of his shaft. He thrust his hips forward and shot his load of come into her mouth. She tried to swallow as fast as she could, but there was so much that she pulled back and let his come shoot over her face. She licked and ate his jism, but his supply seemed endless, for he just kept coming and coming. Again she took it in her mouth and swallowed, getting the last part of his sticky sperm. He pulled out of her mouth and rubbed his still hard cock over her face, spreading the come over her cheeks, and picking up globs of jism. She licked it as it passed her lips, trying to get it back into her mouth. With all that, the two were still excited, and wanted more. The image began to fade away. Kris, still recovering from her orgasm, sat and waited to see if there was going to be more. After a minute or two, the screen began to clear, showing a new scene. The two images returned. This time, they were in a bedroom. The man had his cock back inside his leather pants, and her image was just as it was before, only clean of any come. Kris' image was laying on a huge brass bed. The man was just finishing tying her left leg to the shiny post. Her hands were already well tied to the posts at the top of the bed, and her mouth was gagged again, the black cloth between her lips this time. He moved over and tied her right ankle to the post, completing the spread-eagle bondage position. Once the man had her tied down, he didn't waste any time. He sat on the bed next to her and began to explore her body. Every part of her was touched. Kris' image was squirming on the bed. With each moment, the image was getting more and more aroused. Again Kris' own hand found its way down to her crotch. She slowly stroked herself as if she was truly in the scene, and the man was stroking her. His fingers made their way down to her wet lips. His fingers entered inside her, easily sliding in and out of her. He played with her clit, and the image moaned loudly. Her body now thrashed under him, waiting for that moment when she would explode. At last, Kris' image did come, moaning so loud into her gag that it almost sounded like a scream. The man continued to tease her clit throughout her orgasm. Her trussed body thrashed about as much as the ropes would let her. When it finally ended, Kris' image laid limp on the bed, breathing hard and fast. The man didn't give her time to recover, for his lips were now kissing her neck and shoulders. He moved about her torso, lightly kissing and licking her soft skin. Her image responded quickly, for she again was making soft moans. His lips moved over to her breasts, kissing and sucking on her nipples. Her image was beginning to squirm around again, her moans becoming louder. Kris was again rubbing her clit and pushing her fingers into her again hot pussy. Her eyes were glued to the television, watching every move made as her fingers were building herself toward another climax. The man then moved down her torso until he found her hairy bush. He repositioned himself on the bed and went to work, diving into her muff. His tongue explored every part of her cunt, diving into her hole and teasing her clit with steady licks. Her image was moaning loudly into her gag. Her body twisted and turned as far as her ropes would let her. His hands moved up to her breasts and played with her hard nipples, squeezing them like a pillow. She was rushing toward another strong climax. Just when she couldn't stand it any longer, her image again screamed into the cloth, her bound body squirming under his touch. It seemed just as long and intense as before. Kris' fingers were also busy, still rubbing her clit. She had hoped to climax when her image did, but wasn't ready to when she did. But she soon got another chance to match herself with the screen. Again, the man didn't hesitate. He moved up her secured body until his hips were at her crotch. He ground his leather-covered bulge into her groin. She knew what was next. He moved off her and in one swift motion, had removed his pants to again expose the huge piece of man meat. Kris' image saw it, the power pulsating through it, and let out a loud groan. The man again moved over the bound image's body, and touched her wet cunt with the tip of it. Her image squirmed under it, waiting for it to penetrate her hot box.He slowly pushed it into her. Kris' fingers did the same to her own wet box. As her image moaned, so did she. The man began to move in and out of her, and Kris followed it with her own finger, stroke for stroke. Within a minute, the man was ramming himself into the captive image. Her image was moaning and groaning like crazy as the huge cock filled her. Kris was building up to her climax, her cum-covered fingers plunging in and out of herself. Her eyes still fixed upon the images on the screen, she felt the first wave of her climax about to hit, and let out a strong moan. Her image did the same, as did the man. Suddenly, the man rammed hard into her and shot his load. Her image climaxed and again screamed. Kris herself moaned loudly as her body began to tremble with another orgasm. She came harder than before, moaning throughout her climax. When it was over, she saw the two images just as they were, his cock still inside her, her image panting like a dog. He pulled the gag from her mouth and pressed his lips into hers. They kissed passionately for several minutes, moaning as they did. The image faded away, and static appeared on the screen. Kris sat in the chair for a few moments, her fingers still down by her cunt. She went over the whole thing in her mind again. 'Is this what I really want?' she asked herself. She zipped up her pants, rewound the tape and washed off her hands. She kept thinking about the tape, what it showed. 'I've never been tied up and ravished like that. How could I want something like that when I've never done it? Could I know more about it than I think.' She then remembered the experiment. 'I can't take that in to him. What would they think? They might put me away or something.' Later that evening, she called the professor. 'Yes Kris, what can I do for you.' 'Well, I did as you said and tried the mind scanner.' 'Good. Bring in the unit and the tape tomorrow so we can evaluate it.' 'Well, there's a little problem.' 'Oh. What's that?' 'I know you didn't want me to watch the tape, but..' 'Curiosity overcame you and you did.' 'Yes, but nothing showed up. I did everything you said to do, but I guess it didn't work right or something.' 'That's strange. This is the first time that nothing showed up. Are you willing to try it again?' 'Oh yes, I really do.' She wanted to know what would turn up this time. 'Fine. Stop by tomorrow and I'll give you another dose of the drug.' After she hung up the phone, she sat down and wondered what would happen the next time. She concluded that this was all a mistake. That the thing must have read a dream she was having, or was picking up transmissions from Mars or something weird like that. Tomorrow, she would find out the real Kris. She again watched the tape, this time, watching every little detail on the screen and listening to every groan. She again grew horny, but arrested the urge to masturbate. Afterward, she went to bed and still thought of the tape. Her urges made her horny, so she got out her vibrator, teased her clit with it, rammed it into her wet tunnel and quickly brought herself off. She had a short day at school, and rushed back to her room. She was excited, but nervous. She got a glass of water, laid down on the couch, popped the pill into her mouth and chased it down with the water. She flipped the box on, laid back and relaxed. Several minutes after she fell asleep, the unit detected something and began to record her impulses. Kris awoke from her nap about an hour later. Again she had worked up a sweat. She looked over at the unit. It was in the standby mode. Again she didn't feel rested. She knew she had some kind of dream too, but once again couldn't remember it. Quickly she removed the headband, ejected the tape and popped it into the VCR. The tape had been indexed, so the prior day's scene was still intact. The tape moved to the new recording and began to play. Kris sat in front of the screen, waiting for the first glimpse. Again the screen was foggy, but soon cleared. Again her image was there, but alone. She wore some kind of flowing gown, like they used to in the old movies of medieval times. Her long blond hair looked really full, and even longer than it truly was. She walked about a room, her hands showing signs of nervousness. She looked out the window, muttering to herself about his return. 'This is more like it,' she said to herself. 'Me as a princess, awaiting my prince to return to me.' There was a knock at the door. Her image turned and bid them to enter. Two women, both incredibly beautiful, came in. Both had long hair, one blond, one chestnut. They also wore flowing gowns, but weren't as nice as her own. Kris determined that these were her handmaids. 'My lady,' the blond spoke, 'the watchers had spotted his return. He will be here within the hour.' The other girl spoke. 'We must get you ready before he arrives.' Her own image spoke. 'We must hurry. We don't have much time.' They went over to the mirror and began to brush her hair. Kris looked on, watching the two maids serving her image. They took a small amount of her golden hair on each side and made a single braid. They then pulled the ends behind her head and attached them together so that she had a trim of braided hair. They finished up and her image stood. Her image then began to remove her clothes. She thought she was going to change into some kind of nightgown, but none was brought to her. She removed all of her clothes, handing them to her maids until she was completely naked. She then walked over to a large column that was in the room. The support was at least two feet thick, and made of solid granite, the surface polished to a smooth, glass-like finish. The next event really shocked her. She raised her hands and put her wrists together, palms facing one another. The darker-haired girl then tightly bound her wrists together with a rope. The blond girl produced a white scarf. She knotted it in the middle and approached her image. Her image opened her mouth and received the knot between her teeth. The darker-haired girl pulled her image's hair up, as the other wrapped the ends around her head and tied it behind. Her hair was let down, covering the cloth that encircled her head. All that was visible was from her cheeks to her ruby red lips, the white was in real contrast to her bright lips. Her hands were then raised above her head and tied to a ring that was anchored in the post. It was high above, causing her luscious body to be pulled straight and tight. Next, her feet were tied together at the ankles with another rope, the ends winding around the column and tying behind. Her knees received the same treatment. One more rope wound around her waist, then around the column. Once again, her image was tightly tied to a post, unable to escape. The two maids checked the rope work, then gently kissed their mistress, one on each cheek. They turned and left the room. Kris' image was left alone, tied to the thick column. She struggled in the ropes, but the two maids were too good. She couldn't free herself. Kris watched the scene. Again bondage had come into play. A different setting, different people. Was she a captive of this place, or awaiting someone's return? Who was the man who was coming? Was he coming to free her, or to do something else. After a few minutes of struggling, the door opened again. This time, two men entered the room. They both had dark hair, tall and well built. They walked in perfect step with one another as they approached her. They removed the ropes that held her to the column, her wrists being the first to be lowered and freed. They then placed a band of bright silver metal, like a manacle, on each of her wrists and her ankles. The metal bands weren't like the usual kind. They were a perfect fit, snug but not tight enough to pinch the skin. Bright silver chains were attached to the manacles, with the four ends going to one of their hands. Thusly, she was leashed by the wrists and ankles, free to move about but able to be jerked back at a moment's notice. The white gag still remained between her teeth. She was taken out of the room, one man on each side of her, each carrying a wrist and ankle chain in their hands. They led her through a series of corridors, down a flight of steps, then to a huge wooden door. The door was swung open to exit to a courtyard. The bright sun shone on her naked body as she was led to the center of the courtyard. There, four huge silver spikes had been driven into the ground in a rectangular pattern. The two men silently guided her down to the ground and made her lay in the middle of the box on her back, her golden hair fanned out behind her. The chains were quickly and efficiently attached, one to each spike, retaining her in a wide spread-eagle position. Her naked body open and exposed under the warm sun. The men again walked away in step, leaving her alone once more. Her body had been pulled tightly between the spikes. Her hands opened and closed as her head turned back and forth, but all other movement had been cut off. For several minutes, the only sound heard was the groans of the fettered image and the tinkling of her as she struggled in her shackles. The view moved about her, showing her from all angles.After a minute, a trumpet burst into sound, as an announcement of something. The courtyard gates swung open as a white horse and rider entered into the court. The gates swung close again as he moved toward her. The rider came up to her and looked down upon her naked and hobbled body. She looked up at him and moaned to him. Kris couldn't see much of his face, but he was bronzed from the sun, tall and strong, with black hair, dressed in white and gold. He dismounted the horse. The two men from before appeared and led the horse away. The man walked about her once, holding on to the hilt of his sword, drinking in her beauty. He then stood between her shackled legs and looked upon her treasures. Then, he dropped to his knees, and moved his lips between her thighs. He began to eat her hot pussy. He hungrily licked and sucked on her clit and pussy. Soon the trussed girl was moaning through her silk gag. As the man began to eat her image's cunt, Kris removed her clothes and began to play with her own cunt. She quickly grew hot and wet as her fingers entered her love tunnel and caressed her clit. On the screen, the bound chained girl was turning her head back and forth, moaning loudly. Within a few minutes, she was on the brink of orgasm. The man plunged his face into her, and made her jump over the edge. She moaned loudly, only hampered by the cloth gag. Her hands made fists and her toes curled from the intense orgasm. She came for at least a minute. Kris' hands were now intensely playing with herself, bringing her senses to life with sexual delight. After her image finished her orgasm, the man stood up. The two maids returned, one on each side of him. They removed his sword belt from his waist. He then lifted his hand from his sides. The two maids opened his pants and freed his hard cock. His cock was huge, just as big as in the other account. The two maids gently stroked it as he stared down upon his chained prey. His cock seemed to grow bigger as the two maids stroked it, their hands running up and down his shaft. They then helped him down to his knees and moved away. The man moved over her and rammed his cock into her willing cunt. Kris's own cunt couldn't stand any more. It exploded into a wild frenzy of come as her orgasm ripped through her body. Again and again, the waves of pleasure rolled over her and the scene on the TV showed the man humping away on his bound victim. As her orgasm ended, she watched the man slamming his hips into her image. Again and again, he rammed his cock home. Her image again let go of yet another orgasm, moaning wildly in the open court. At last, the man not being able to hold back any longer, pumped gallons of hot come from his cock in sexual pleasure. He kept coming and coming, spewing so much, it leaked out from her well-stuffed cunt. When he had finished, he stood up. The two maids placed his softening cock back into his pants. The two men brought the horse back and helped him back up into the saddle. 'Until I return, my princess,' he said as he rode off. The image faded and turned to static. Kris was still recovering from her own orgasm. Again, she had been so turned on by the story. Could the machine be right. Could she be a woman who gets off on being tied up and ravished by a huge cock. She knew she couldn't let the professor see the tape, not with the two images of her so detailed on the screen. She put her clothes back on and picked up the phone. She had better get out of this before someone finds out what's on these tapes. 'Hi professor, it's Kris Stuart.' 'Oh yes, Miss Stuart, I've been expecting your call. How did it go this time?' 'Well, I hate to tell you this, but it didn't work again.' 'Again. I don't understand what's going on. This never happened before.' 'I'm sorry professor. Maybe it's just me. Maybe it just can't read me.' 'But why. Is it the drug isn't strong enough for you, or are your thoughts buried so deep, they can't be read?' 'I don't know professor. I'm really sorry to waste your time.' 'On the contrary, you may be more of a help to me than you can imagine. Let me ask you this. Are you willing to try it one more time, this time in a controlled environment, outside of your normal surroundings?' 'I don't know professor...' she really didn't want to continue with this. 'You would be doing me a great service.' 'Well, alright. But if it doesn't work this time, I'm out.' 'Fair enough. Come in tomorrow morning, and bring the unit.' She hung up the phone. She could have kicked herself for agreeing to do it again. What would come up this time, a torture chamber? 'Well, maybe it will be different,' she thought to herself. 'A different place, somewhere I've haven't been before, and I probably wouldn't be alone.' After she had settled down, she decided to get her mind off it and do some of her homework. After about an hour, her mind began to wander one more. She had to see the tape again. Before she started, she went to her bedroom and got out her vibrator. She stripped naked, laid on the couch and watched the second recording again. The vibrator teased her and stimulated her, but didn't make her come. She decided it wasn't as good as the first so she played that one again as she masturbated herself with the vibrator. Before it was over, she came twice, and fell asleep naked on the couch, her pussy very satisfied. The next morning, she took a shower and ate breakfast. She was nervous. What today? She would have to let them have the tape, and she probably wouldn't get to see it first. 'Why did I agree to do this,' she said as she pulled on her white shorts. She also wore a pink tank top and sneakers. It was warm out, and the psychology building was usually warm. When she arrived at the professor's office, she found that the teacher had been called away, but his assistant would take care of her. The assistant turned out to be a post-graduate student named Jim. He was about twenty-four, with blond hair and tan skin. He was about six feet tall, and looked like he worked out to keep his great form. He took her back to the research lab. There, a small room had been set up, with a dentist chair, a table and chair, and a television with VCR. Jim set up the scanner and directed her to the chair. 'Sorry the room is a little scary,' he said to her, 'but it's all we could do with the short notice.' 'It's not too bad,' she responded nervously. 'There's no tape in here. Do you have it?' 'Oh,' she said trying to act surprised. 'I must have forgot the it back at my dorm room. I didn't think you would need it.' 'Forgot it, huh.' 'Sorry,' she said in a little girl's voice. 'This thing has never failed, after twenty tries. You try it twice, claim it's blank, then forget the tape at home. Tell me the truth,' he said to her as he leaned over and spoke very close to her face. 'Did the unit really not work, or was there something on that tape you didn't want someone to see?' She knew she had been caught. He saw through the lie. 'I can't let him see it. They'll lock me up in a nut house.' 'Do you have the tape with you?' She opened her purse and took out the tape. She held it for a moment, looking like it was her prized possession. She handed it to him. 'I'll look it over, but I'm sure it's not that bad. Just relax, and everything will be fine. I promise.' He handed her the drug. She took it, almost spilling the water he gave to her. She sat back and stared at the ceiling as Jim placed the headband of electrodes on her head. 'The professor wanted to try a stronger dose of the stuff,' he said as he put in a fresh tape and switched the unit on. 'More than likely you'll sleep a little longer because of it. I'll check back on you from time to time. Don't worry yourself, everything is going to be fine,' he said as he patted her hand. Kris felt the first signs of sleep coming on. She tried to fight it off, but soon her eyes were growing heavy. Her last thought was 'what this time?' and she fell asleep. When she awoke, she focused her eyes on the wall clock. It was over two hours later. The scanning unit was again in the standby mode. She was warm, and a small band of sweat was on her brow. She moved her hand to wipe it off, only to find her hands had been tied down to the arms of the chair with soft, white rope. She then noticed that Jim was down at her feet, finishing off her ankles. He had crossed her ankles, and was placing the final knot in the rope. 'What?' she mumbled, still a little groggy. 'Am I still dreaming? What's going on? What are you doing to me?' 'Just doing what you want,' he said in a crafty voice. 'What do you mean, what I want?' Jim pulled up a stool next to the chair and sat down. 'I monitored what the scanner had picked up from your subconscious. Quite interesting. I also reviewed what was picked up from your other sessions. An interesting theme running through all of them.' 'What did it get this time?' she asked, not really wanting to know. 'Let me show you. I think that will be easier.' He pushed the tape into the VCR and hit the play button. Again the screen was foggy for a minute. Jim sat next to her, glancing at her from time to time. While she watched, she tested her ropes. Jim had very effectively lashed her to the chair.He smiled and watched her struggle. The screen came into focus. It showed Kris entering the professor's office. She was wearing a long trench coat, a wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of spiked red high heels. She looked like she had just stepped out of "Casablanca". The secretary asked her to wait for a moment. A few seconds later, Jim came through the door. He was wearing a lab coat and carried a clipboard. He asked her to come in. They went through the door into a kind of laboratory. It was white and very clean-looking. A large examination table, with a sheet over it and a pillow, was in the center of the room, with a huge light hanging over it. 'Are you ready to begin the session, Miss Stuart?' Jim's image asked. 'Yes, Doctor,' Kris's image responded. 'Then let's begin,' he said. She removed her hat and set it on a chair, letting her long hair fall behind her. She then turned her back and opened her coat. She let it slowly fall to the floor to reveal what she was wearing. It was a red satin teddy, cut high in the hips, trimmed with red lace and spaghetti straps. Coupled with her red heels, she looked exceedingly seductive and sexy. She slowly walked over to the table and laid face-up on it. Jim, seeming unmoved, walked to the head of the table. Kris raised her arms above her head. Jim crossed her wrists and tied them together with a long length of rope, then tied them to the bed frame. As he did, she closed her eyes and looked as if she was being sexually awakened. He moved down to her feet, spreading them apart and tying them to the bed with more rope. His movements were very smooth and clean. He tied his knots, gently touching her skin. With each rope added, Kris seemed to be more and more aroused. Not erotic or wildly, but passionately, like two lovers making slow, romantic love to one another. When he had finished, he turned the overhead light on. The light made her skin illuminate beneath its glow. She wasn't blinded by it, but it highlighted every inch of her. Her red teddy and lips blossomed with color. She slowly struggled in her bonds, her passion beginning to flow through her. With Kris now tied down, Jim again picked up his clipboard and began his examination. He would walk around her, taking in every inch of her, probing every part of her beauty. He wrote on his pad, taking endless notes. He then began to touch her, caressing his finger over her legs and shoulders. He again made notes as his finger examined her. Kris continued to slowly squirm, her breathing heavy and soft moans passing through her lips. Kris herself, tied to the chair, was getting aroused. She watched the screen, what the two images were doing. This was different than the other two, more sensual and romantic, yet a little mysterious and arousing. She slowly squirmed in her ropes, her thighs rubbing together trying to tease her clit. Jim was getting aroused too. He watched the tape, looking at both his images bound captive, and his own real one. He knew Kris was getting excited, and found himself watching her hips circle and writhe in the chair. Back on the screen, Jim's image was still reviewing his subject. He touched her hair and her cheek. His hands moved over her heaving breasts, feeling their fullness and her arousal. Even through her satin teddy, he still could feel her softness. He made a note, then moved down her chest and abdomen until he found her aroused crotch. She made a soft moan as he caressed it and felt it. He made several notes, continually examining the sexual parts of her body. He then moved up again. He looked down on her and moved his lips to hers. The two kissed passionately and long. Kris moaned as they did, her eyes closed, drinking him into herself. They kissed for at least a minute before they finally parted. Again, he made notes as she writhed in her arousal. He then put his clipboard down and removed his coat. He then slowly opened his pants and allowed his member to spring out. Though he wasn't as big as the other men in these scenes had been, he still had a wonderful tool. He slowly moved on top of her. Though she still was wearing the sexy teddy, he managed to move the satin aside and slowly slide his hard cock into her wet and wanting pussy. Kris's image made a deep moan as he entered her, again closing her eyes as her passion was about to be fulfilled. Kris herself let out a soft moan as he slid into her. She was really turned on now, watching the two of them on the screen. Jim too was horny, the bulge in his pants about to burst out. The two images moved together with one another. Though Kris couldn't move much, she matched his tender movements with hers. They kissed fervently, softly moaning to one another. Kris's body tensed and released a gentle orgasm. As she did, she kissed him even harder and deeper. The two made slow love for several minutes before Jim was about ready to release. He moaned more, and pushed a little deeper into her. As he was about ready to shoot, he made one last push into her and pressed his lips hard against her. He released his flood of sperm, moaning long and deep, pushing himself in as deep as he could. When Kris felt it, she too moaned at the first wave of come splashed inside her. He shot a huge load of sperm inside her, filling her tunnel with the hot, sticky fluid. When he had finished coming, Jim pulled himself out from her and moved off the table. Kris laid on the bed, still held down by the soft ropes, in total contentment. Her eyes remained closed as she basked in the aftermath of her desires being fulfilled. Jim returned his member back to his pants and zipped them up. He put on his lab coat again and picked up his clipboard. He wrote a series of notes, not looking up from the pad. Kris laid content on the bed, her body recovering from the prior encounter. At last, he finished his scribbling and put his pad down. He then untied her ankles, gently rubbing the light red marks the ropes had left. He then did the same to her wrists, freeing them and rubbing out the kinks. 'Thank you, Miss Stuart,' he said to her as he made a few more notes. 'I have collected a lot of useful data this session.' 'Same time next week then?' she said as he helped her put her coat back on. 'Yes, same time.' She put her hat back on her head, winked at the man (who didn't notice it), turned and walked out of the room, a content smile on her face. The screen fogged and turned to static as the scene ended. Jim moved over and shut the unit off. He then turned back to Kris, still bound in the chair. She continued to worm her ass into the chair. Her nipples were hard and sticking through her tank top. He moved back over to her and again sat on the stool next to the chair. 'This one was far more captivating than the other two, don't you think?' he said to her. She didn't respond, but continued to struggle against the ropes that held her prisoner to the chair. 'Do you have a fascination with bondage?' he asked. 'I've never tried it,' she responded. 'Then you must have some kind of urge to try it. How else could your subconscious be so interested in it, not once but three times.' 'I don't know,' she said slowly. Then she looked up at him and asked the question. 'Am I crazy or something?' He responded with a smile. 'No, far from it. You just have a driving fantasy to experience bondage. To be rendered into immobility, to be sexually aroused and fulfilled. To have a strong man bring you to an erotic height while you are unable to resist him. There is nothing crazy about that.' 'What you're saying is I want to be tied up while having sex?' 'What I'm saying is at least you want to try it.' She thought for a moment. Was he right? Was all she wanted to do was at least give it one shot? Maybe he was right. She did like it when a man took charge during sex, that he was the superior. She wondered for another minute, who could she confide in and tell this to, without being taken advantage of. She then looked down at her wrists, then at her ankles, all still tied with the rope. He did this, and he knew what was going on. She looked up at him. He was good-looking, better than that. He seemed to know what she wanted, and he did know all about it. He also had tied the knots very well, for as much as she fought, she couldn't free herself. 'I guess it wouldn't hurt to try it, would it.' 'No, it wouldn't. You just might find out how much you like it.' 'Will the professor be back soon?' she asked. 'No, he's gone for the day. We are alone.' 'Well then, what are you waiting for,' she said and looked away. She knew he wanted to do the honors. He seemed qualified. No time was wasted. Jim had his moves all planned out. He moved over and locked the door. Then he pulled a bandana from his hip pocket and moved behind her. She opened her mouth and wrapped her teeth around the cloth as he tied the ends behind her head. It pulled her cheeks back, but it felt marvelous. Again, he sat on the stool. His hands began to run up and down her legs. They shivered with his touch. His fingers went over her shorts. Even through the material, the heat was coming through. He pulled her top up, revealing her breasts. She then remembered that she had forgotten to put a bra on that day.Good thing, one less item in the way. He played with her hard nipples. She groaned through the gag as he did. He then went back down to her shorts. He unbuttoned them and slowly pulled the white material down to her bound ankles, panties included. Her crotch was wet, waiting for him to tease her. His fingers ran through her bush, making her wiggle in the chair. He untied her legs and pulled the shorts off. Her shoes were also removed. He then untied her wrists and moved her over to the stool. Her top was pulled off her back and discarded. She sat on the stool, naked before him. Jim bound her hands behind her back. She sighed with delight as he pulled her hand back and wound the white cord around her wrists. He then tied her ankles together and tied her feet to the foot rest on the stool. Satisfied she sat secured, he began to really torment her. He stood behind her and played with her hard nipples and her fleshy mounds. He squeezed and teased them, making the helpless girl moan with delight. Then his fingers made their way down her stomach. He tied her so that her ankles would stay together, but so her knees could be spread apart. He parted her knees and gave himself a clear opening to her crotch. She was dripping wet as his fingers moved over her pussy lips. She moaned again as he pushed two fingers inside her, slowly fucking her with them. He rubbed her clit, getting her even more excited. He then moved in front of her and knelt between her legs. His tongue went to work on her pussy. He probed her tunnel, licked her clit and lapped her juices. Kris moaned and groaned, getting closer and closer to an eruption. Just as she seemed to be on the brink of climaxing, he stopped licking her cunt and kissed her thighs. She moaned at him, telling him not to stop. But her gag kept her from complaining. He waited just long enough before diving in again. Over and over he did this. Sensing when she was about to orgasm, he would kiss her thighs, or slow his tongue, or stop altogether. He did this almost ten times. Each time, he let her get just to the end of her rope, then stop. She made her muffled sounds. When she thought she could stand no more, he plunged in and gave the licking of her life. He ate her like she had never been eaten before. And when she did come, she screamed into the gag. He continued to stimulate her clit, making it last forever. The sensation flooded through her entire body. From her head to her toes, her senses were alive, overwhelmed her whole body with sexual pleasure. It was the best she ever had. When at last she was finished, she panted around the bandana. Every nerve in her body sang out in delight. She never thought something like this could be so enjoyable. She was right, he knew what he was doing. He untied her feet from the chair and made her kneel on the floor. She knew what he wanted, and she wanted it too. He walked around her, studying her like he was deciding what he was going to do with her and how. The wait of him shoving his cock into her mouth was killing her. He moved in front of her and rubbed his hands around his bulge. 'Do you want it?' he asked. She responded as her image did in the first setting. She nuzzled her face into his crotch. She felt his hardness under the material. She tried to get to it, but the gag wouldn't let her. She groaned to him. He responded. He opened his pants and pulled out his cock. It was just like she had envisioned on the tape. The same size, thickness and texture. He stroked it for a moment, making it grow even more powerful. He pulled the gag from her lips. Kris moved forward and took it in her mouth. She hungrily sucked on it, moving her lips up and down the shaft. His hands fondled her hair as she gave him head. She wanted his come, to taste it and swallow it down. She pumped on it like a high-paid hooker, giving him the best blowjob he ever had. It took a while, but he felt his load begin to smolder in his balls. He moaned, closing his eyes as he felt the first signs of his orgasm build. Kris knew he was about to shoot and started to pump on him like mad. His load built up to a fever pitch. 'Oh, oh here I come,' he moaned to Kris, to let her know he was about to shoot. She knew already and was getting ready for her first taste of his hot jism. He held back for as long as he could, but she wanted it. Never before had she wanted to suck off a man and take his come so bad. Unable to resist any longer, he let out a loud moan, pulled her head down his shaft and shot off the first volley of come. Kris started to swallow, drinking down everything he gave her. His knees felt weak as his orgasm overloaded him. He continued to moan as he kept pumping come out of his cock. Kris couldn't swallow fast enough to get it all. It came out of her mouth, over her face and his groin. When his balls were drained, he slowly pulled his semi-hard cock out of her mouth. She licked the tip of it to get every last drop. He tasted so good, she wanted to get as much as possible. He sat down in a chair for a moment, putting his cock away first. He then looked over at the girl, still tied hand and foot, kneeling on the floor. She was his to do what he wanted with. She still twisted in her ropes, the come dripping from her chin. 'If only I had a bed to tie you to, and more rope to do it with.' 'Perhaps you can continue this later, maybe at my place,' Kris responded. 'If that's what you want.' 'Yes, it is. Besides, I don't think I'm quite finished exploring this. I want to take it further, try more, under the hands of a master.' Jim was pleased to hear this. He untied the lady from her ropes, wiped the come off her face with the bandana, and gave back her clothes. Kris dressed, wrote down her dorm room number, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, promising to give him more later. 'I won't be leaving here until four, and I need to stop by my place and pick up a few things. When should I come by?' Kris looked at the clock. It was a little past two. She thought for a moment before giving him an answer. 'Come by at seven. Then we both have time to get ready.' She turned to leave the room. Before she opened the door, a thought came across her mind. What will the professor say when he asks about the test? 'What about the tapes?' she asked. 'Oh, didn't I tell you?' he said with a sly smile. 'Nothing showed up again. I guess we just couldn't read your mind.' He handed her the tapes, and guided her out of the office. Seven o'clock rolled around and passed. Kris was nervous. She expected him to be right on time. Was he going to come? Maybe she should have given him her phone number, in case he was going to be late or something. Then, there was a knock at the door. For a moment, she didn't move. He did come. What did he have in store for her? What would he do to her? She moved to the door and checked herself in the mirror. She then opened the door. Jim was standing there, a dozen roses in one hand, a small overnight bag in the other. He was wearing a blue pullover and blue jeans. He smiled at her and held out the flowers to her. 'Sorry I'm late, but a beautiful woman like you should always have pretty flowers around her.' 'Oh, thank you,' she said as she sniffed the roses. 'Come in and help me put them in water.' After they had found a vase, and the roses were sitting on the table, Kris put on some music and poured a glass of wine for each of them. They sat on the couch chatting for a few minutes. 'Tell me honestly,' he said, 'What did you think of your first episode of bondage this afternoon?' 'I must admit, it wasn't that bad. To be all honest, I was really horny.' 'I could tell.' 'It seems to me that you have more experience in this than I do. Am I right in making that assumption?' 'You are.' 'Been doing it long?' 'Long enough to know the finer points of the game.' 'Your little bag there. Does that contain some of the finer points?' He took the wine glass from her hand. 'Let me show you,' he said. He got his bag and set it on the table before them. He pulled a key from his pocket, unlocked the bag and opened it up. It was filled with a large assortment of ropes, cuffs and gags. He must have had several hundred feet of rope bundled up into little coils. He had several pairs of handcuffs, and two pairs of leg cuffs. There were several leather straps, some short, some long. There was also a large bright red ball gag and another type of gag. 'I guess you do know about this stuff.' 'I do,' he said. 'And I know how to use all of this very successfully.' 'Well then, what are we waiting for,' she said as she stood up and began to remove her clothes. Jim sat back and watched her slow striptease. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, letting it slowly slide down off her shoulders. Next, she unzipped her jeans and very slowly slid them down her legs to reveal the red teddy she was wearing. It was almost identical to the one that she was wearing in the video. She slid her feet into a pair of red spiked heels and moved over by him. 'I bought it this afternoon, just for you. Do you like it?' she asked. 'Yes, very nice. I like it a lot. Red, the color of burning passion.' She sat down next to him.Kris knew how to tease a man, get his cock all worked up into a frenzy. She snuggled up against him, her body rubbing all over his. He placed his hand on her smooth legs, caressing her thighs. She gently traced the outline of his erection, cupping the bulge in her hand. This only lasted for a moment before he reached into the bag and pulled out several coils of ropes. Kris turned away from him and placed her hands behind her back. As Jim bound her wrists together very tightly, shivers ran down her spine as he cinched and knotted the ropes. Now helpless, she waited for his next action. He tied her ankles together with another length of rope, again cinching the middles. He then pulled a red cloth from the bag, placed a knot in it and held it up to her lips. Kris slowly opened her mouth, parting her ruby red lips wide to accept the gag. He placed the knot between her teeth and tied the ends behind her head. He then made her sit back on the couch. He began to slowly explore her luscious body. It was very sexy. She was all tied up and gagged, wearing only her sexy teddy and heels, with this attractive man lightly touching and caressing her body. She felt the same as her image did in the third tape did, aroused and excited with romantic pleasure. He kissed her shoulders and caressed her hips and thighs. Kris let out a soft sigh as his hands moved over her skin. His hands cupped her breasts through the satin material that covered them. Her nipples were hard against the soft fleshy mounds. She moaned through the gag and began to squirm under his touch and in the security of her ropes. He pulled the gag from her mouth. Immediately, their lips met one another in a sweet, deep kiss. Their mouths pressed against one another as their tongues flickered into each other's mouths. Kris moaned again. His kisses were full of passion and desire. She felt the power that came from him, his commanding spirit. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but the ropes prevented her. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He gently deposited her on the bed and removed the ropes from her wrists. He laid her back on the sheets and began to tie her to the bed. He bound each of her wrists to the headboard. Though they weren't far apart, her fingers were unable to reach the knots that held them. He untied the knots on her ankles and slowly spread her legs apart. He bound ropes around each ankle, looping the ropes around the arch and heels of her shoes, tying the ends to the legs of the bed. He pulled the red ball gag from the bag and sat on the bed next to her. They said not a word, but their actions spoke. She looked at the rubber gag, wondering if he was going to use it. She wanted him to, wanting to feel how it was to have her moans and groans muffled. She parted her lips to welcome it. He placed the shiny ball in her mouth and gently tied the ends behind her head. She moaned with delight and Jim smiled. Jim walked around the bed, viewing his captive from all angles. Her hands were tied down and helpless. Her legs were bound and spread apart. Her mouth was filled with the bright red ball that matched her red teddy and spiked high heels. Her soft, tan skin seemed to glow in the light. Her long blonde hair fanned out under her trussed body. Kris twisted and turned in her ropes, softly sighing and moaning. She closed her eyes and squirmed on the bed as he swallowed in her beauty. He had never had such a captive woman as beautiful as this. He touched her everywhere, letting no place unfelt. He caressed every inch of her skin, feeling the softness and the smoothness of her. He wanted to know every part of her in detail. Her body trembled under his hand. Shivers of pleasure ran through her like wildfire. She moaned into her gag, constantly writhing her body as far as her bonds would let her. He kissed every inch of her with soft, tantalizing kisses. Kris was in heaven, the heat coming off her body. She was getting more and more aroused with each moment. What would he do to her, and how long would he keep it up. After some time of this, they both finally could no longer stand it. Kris seemed to be on the very edge of climax. Jim's erection was raging out of control for relief. He removed his clothes, exposing a massive erection and slowly climbed on top of her. As in the video, he moved aside the material that covered her wet opening and slowly slid his cock in. As he pushed in deeper and deeper, Kris released her orgasm. She writhed and moaned as the climax rocked her entire body. Every nerve was alive with sexual pleasure. Slowly, very slowly, Jim began to slide his cock back and forth inside her vagina. His strokes were slow and steady, each one just as smooth as the prior. Kris moaned into her gag. His cock filled her cunt, sending waves of passion through her body. Jim tried to move as slow as he could, but soon his desire took over. He moved a little faster with each forward motion. When fully in, he pushed in harder, sending his manhood deeper into her. Faster and harder he moved. He moved with a quick, steady motion. Kris moved under him as far as her ropes would let her. Her breathing was fast, moaning from the pleasure he was giving her. Jim was moaning too, for it felt so good. It had been a long time. Both of them were building up to an orgasm. Kris's sensuous body squirmed in the sheets as Jim's body moved on top of her. She moaned loudly, her orgasm just about ready to release. Jim felt his climax traveling up, ready to burst forth from his cock. Kris let out one last loud moan and began to come. Within a few seconds, Jim sent forth an army of sperm, pumping her tunnel full of the hot, sticky fluid, their juices mixing inside of her. Kris felt the come hit inside her, making her orgasm just that much better. When Jim had pumped his last drop of come from his rod, he pulled the gag from her mouth and kissed her passionately. With his cock still inside her, and her firm body still tied down, the two pressed their lips together, their tongues dancing in one another's mouths. Within a minute, his cock, which never really lost its erection, was hard again. He started to slowly move his hips again, sliding his cock around inside her wet tunnel. They continued to kiss, moaning together as they did. Jim stopped for a moment, looking deep into her eyes. Kris was still full of passion and desire. So was he. He wanted more of her, but he still wanted her bound in ropes. He thought for a second and came up with an idea. He moved off of her, giving her one last kiss and untied her wrists. Kris wasn't quite sure what he was going to do. Was it over, was he having second thoughts, was he removing the ropes or doing something else. As he untied the ropes from her legs, she leaned on one arm looking at him. He sat next to her for a moment. Wonder popped into her eyes and he answered her question. "I want to try something," he said. Kris nodded her head in approval. He laid her back onto the bed and picked up her hands. Kris held them above her as he crossed her wrists and bound them together, winding the rope around her wrists, crossing them so they couldn't move. When he finished, she raised them above, expecting him to tie them to the bed. He didn't. Instead, he moved to her legs, bent her knees, crossed her feet at her ankles and tied them together. The way he tied them caused her knees to spread apart, giving a clear view to her pussy. He didn't gag her again. Still wearing her satin teddy and high heels, he lifted her feet up and slid his toned body through her legs until his hard rod was poised by her entrance. Kris got the hint, placing her bound wrists around his neck. He slipped his arms through hers so her arms were now around his body. Again he pushed his cock past the satin material and entered her wet tunnel. Their lips met again, locked in a passionate kiss. His hips moved slowly, as did his hips. They made slow love like this for half an hour, his hard cock slowly sliding along her wet lips. She had two small orgasms as they did. Nothing like before, but enough to send immense pleasure through her body. It was glorious, her bound body wrapped around his, moaning and groaning as their bodies slowly melted together. When Jim felt his load begin to build, he would slow his stroke even more, sometimes stopping, just letting his cock fill her cunt. When it relaxed, he again would slowly start. After their slow lovemaking, Jim finally felt the first spasm of his climax. He pushed in deeper with each slow stroke. He wished he could hold it back again, but it built up to a sizable proportion. Just as he felt it about to erupt, he pushed in as deep as he could and shot another load of come inside her. Kris moaned when she felt it, and released another small orgasm. They kissed even harder, their tongues darting around one another's. When he had finished, their lips parted to pant. Their breathing was hard and deep, recovering from their lovemaking. Kris, still tied and wrapped around him, hugged him as best she could. Her wrists were tired, but it didn't matter. She felt so good, so alive, like never before. Jim wiggled out from under her bound grasp and untied her from her position.Once free, she kicked off her heels, removed her crouched socks and teddy, and cuddled up to his naked body. It was some time before either of them spoke. They touched one another slowly and lightly, letting the moment gather around them. "Was it what you hoped it to be?" he asked. "Yes, it was," she sighed, "and more. It was wonderful. I never had such a romantic yet so kinky and exciting an experience." "So you think you like it?" "Yes, and the person who helped me discover it too. And I want to know more." Again they laid in silence for a few more minutes. "It's getting late," Jim said. "I better be going." "So soon?" she responded. "It's past midnight, and I have to be at the lab by seven." They didn't say a word for a few minutes. Jim got out of bed and dressed. He collected up his items and returned them back to his bag. Kris got up and put on her robe. They walked out to the living room together. "Am I going to see you again?" she asked as she took his hand. Jim put his bag down and kissed her hotly. Her knees almost gave out. "If you want to see me," he said. "Call me tomorrow." "Definitely," he said as he opened the door and was about to walk out. "Hey, wait. You don't have my number." He pulled a small slip of paper from his pocket. "Might this be it?" he said with a smile, and closed the door behind him. Kris went back to her bed. She climbed between the sheets and fell right to sleep. She dreamed all night long.

Collections/Old_Joe's_Collection/Romance/Experiment -f-teen.txt

Joe Klein

Baby Allison's Dirty Weekend

'Look at her. She's such a lovely, stupid little cuntie,' sighed Joey. Joey Jones, 55, fat, tanned, was sitting on the couch next to his friend Nathan, who was 20 years younger. Both men were naked and stroking their cocks slowly. The object of their nepiophile desires was little baby Allison, who crawled in front of them on the floor of the living room. The 13-month-old kiddie only had her diapers on. On her head was a cute, knitted hat with a piece of paper attached to it with the words 'Poopy Whore.' Her stepfather, Nathan, thought this little note would add a special and extra obscene and sickening touch to this nepifest he and his friend were holding. This was what they had been waiting for. He looked with admiration at Joey's huge cock. He had seen this monster many times during cam sessions when Joey masturbated to pictures that Nathan had taken of baby Allison in various stages of taking a poop. Both men became intimate jackbuddies, stroking almost every day c2c, moaning and eventually shouting obscene words while they looked at baby Allison's poopy pictures. Nathan loved those cam sessions and especially the copious amounts of semen that Joey was able to shoot when he climaxed. Compared to him, famous pornstars like Peter North, were only amateurs, thought Nathan. Joey could unleash up to ten spurts of daddymilk from his cock in one orgasm. He was a one-man bukkake-machine. And now Joey was actually with him, visiting for the first time because Nathan's wife had left for a seminar on the west coast. The mother of Allison had no idea what was going on in her home where two sicko pedophiles had her child all for themselves. And for Joey, this was the first time that he would get to play with a real infant instead of masturbating to pictures. 'I knew you were big, but I didn't realize how big,' Nathan said, impressed by the thick, veiny cock Joey was stroking, his tongue hanging out, intensely concentrated on the crawling little kiddycunt. Nathan reached over and caressed the balls of his pedofriend. 'I can see that my little poopy star makes you very happy,' he said. Joey nodded, while he licked some saliva from his lips. 'My god, I haven't been this hard and horny in years. I have to control myself or I'll shoot too soon,' he said. Both men stared at the chubby little legs of Allison and the retard expression on her kiddyface. The lil turd was crawling towards them, making little sounds like 'dada' and 'lala.' 'Yes dada dada,' Nathan mimicked, laughing at the little turd. Allison was too stupid to understand what the evil men on the couch were doing or saying to her. For them, she was just a piece of pedopoopmeat, an object in their evil nepidreams, existing only to fulfill the cravings of sicko men who were interested in kiddy BM. 'Come here you lil whore,' said Nathan. He stood up, his raging hardon swinging, and scooped lil baby Allison up from the floor and sat back down again on the couch. 'You can frenchkiss her,' he said to Joey. Joey leaned towards Allison who was sitting on the lap of her stepfather. The erect penis of Nathan was sticking out between her chubby little legs. Nathan held the little cunt by her ankles and gently rocked the baby up and down so her diaper rubbed against the back of his cockhead. This was almost too much for Joey. He felt dizzy from lust. He leaned over. Seeing an adult, big man close to her, his tongue sticking out and grinning like a madman, made baby Allison scared. She started to cry but Joey shut her up by sticking part of his fat tongue in her little babymouth, without missing a stroke on his giant pedocock. He was tonguefucking her in her skull, enjoying the softness of her wet lil crybabymouth. This was heaven for both men. The helpless little cunt made their mean cocks harder than ever. 'Let's see if she has a special surprise for us,' Nathan said, while he undid the diapers. What a sight! The sweet smell of babyshit was released in the room. Both men almost cried from lust seeing that Allison had beshitted herself gloriously. Both her hiney and cuntie were smeared with brown, stinky poop. And now that her diapers were off, she farted – prrrrttt, sprriiitt – and some wet babymess shot from her little anus, over the stomach and cock of her stepdaddy. 'Look at that,' said Nathan, fingering the anal opening of his daughter, enjoying the wetness of her stinky bumhole. He held her little baby ankles wide apart, so her poopy surprise was fully exposed. This was the ultimate babyloversdream, a widespread kiddie, poopy on her fat lil cunnie and drying BM around her anus and all over her lil bumcheeks. Feeling that her diapers were off, little dolly Allison began to grunt and pushed sickening poopies toward her gaping anal opening. This was all she was good for, pooping and peeing for evil sicko's. The smell was incredible and the sounds that the little shitqueen made were intoxicating: slither...oooze...slither...plop....plop. 'I'll cum in her lil poophole. You're too big for that. Please cum in her face and mouth my friend and don't forget me my pedolover,' hissed Nathan. He was on the verge of cumming. Joey stood up, holding his massive cumgun, looking at his young pedobuddy. What a spectacle! The lil farting, pooping, crying baby lying on her back on her stepfather's stomach, chubby legs held wide open, the cockhead of Nathan wriggling to get in her dirty, wet anus, using her dirty excrement as lubricant. 'Poopy whore is going to get some,' Joey shouted and laughed hysterically. He was besides himself. He spat in little baby Allison's tear-strained face and positioned himself so that his cockhead was aiming at her skull. While he stared at his friend's shitstained penis entering the screaming baby, he started to jack off furiously, feeling his balls aching for a massive orgasm. 'Ooh you goddamned lil poopwhore. Joey is coming for you, you lil cunt,' he cried. With one hand he held the little baby's head steady and with the other he pulled on his cock. Nathan had buried his fine pedocock in the asshole of the stupid kiddie, fucking her like a piston. 'There it is,' screamed Joey. Two giant shots of semen hit the baby right in the face and mouth, covering her completely. Two other jets landed higher, on his friends face and the last spurts he aimed at his friends shitstained cock and balls while Nathan screamed and emptied his balls in his daughter's bowels. Joey had to lie down after his orgasm. The best cumspurts he ever had. Nathan pulled his dirty cock out of baby Allison. The lil cunt was crying. The sight of her was incredible. The poopy lil girl-openings, the cum on her face. What a stupid lil babydoll! Nathan made sure to take a few pictures of the lil piece of pedomeat to show his online friends. Joey stared at the baby and at his own cock. 'Look, it's still hard,' he said. Nathan looked at his friend and said: 'Well, we have all the time in the world to take care of that.' THE END

(1)

Collections/Nepi_Stories/GIRLS/DIAPERS - WS - SCAT/baby_allisons_dirty_weekend.txt

Anon Author

Nurse Story (spanking)

'Are you sure you two will be alright, dear?' 'We'll be fine, Mummy,' Sarah assured her mother. 'Okay, well I'll only be next door if you need me. There's some juice in the fridge if you or Simon want some.' So saying, Mrs. Summers left her daughter and friend alone. 'Let's go upstairs and play some games,' Sarah suggested, and Simon agreed eagerly. The two 8-year-olds had known each other since babies and were the best of friends, but Simon had moved to County Durham two years ago and he was now back to stay with Sarah's family for a two-week holiday. Upstairs in Sarah's large bedroom, both children took their shoes off and bounced on the bed for a while, and then the girl ran to a cupboard and brought out a plastic briefcase with a picture of a nurse on it. 'I got this for Christmas,' she explained. 'Let's play Doctors and Nurses.' Simon actually thought this a bit sissy, but he did not want to upset his friend, so he nodded and took the offered case. Opening it, he found a selection of pretend medical instruments - stethoscope, thermometer, etc. Meanwhile, Sarah had run to her wardrobe. 'I got a nurse's uniform for Christmas as well. I'll put that on so it's more realistic,' she called. Simon heard a rustle and looked up to find Sarah in the act of undressing. She wasn't wearing a vest, so as she struggled to pull her summer dress over her head, he was able to see all her stomach and chest, with the two tiny nipples. Not to mention, of course, her plain white knickers that fitted snugly around her firm thighs. Sarah soon got her dress off and noticed Simon's stare. 'What's wrong? You've seen my knickers before.' Simon felt himself blushing crimson and looked down, pretending to be engrossed with the medical kit. True, he had seen Sarah's knickers before, but they were much younger then. This was different. Like most 8-year-old boys, Simon thought girls were sissies and a nuisance to have around, but Sarah was different. There was something about the girl that he could not help feeling attracted to. And when he had seen her knickers, he had felt very strange indeed! 'It's okay, you can look up now,' Sarah giggled as she pulled the nurse's dress down. It was cotton with vertical blue and white stripes, and attached to the front was a white bib with a red cross. Simon looked up, and again thought how attractive the girl looked. Sarah jumped onto the bed and snatched the case from Simon. 'I'm the nurse, so you've got to be the patient,' she said firmly. 'Poke out your tongue and say "Ahh."' Simon did as he was told, and Sarah looked carefully into his mouth. 'I'll have to listen to your breathing,' she decided. 'Take your shirt off.' Simon was a little unsure and hesitated, but then he grinned and pulled his T-shirt off and threw it on the floor. He would not normally have done such a thing, as he was by nature a modest child, but he wanted to please Sarah. He shivered a little as the cold stethoscope touched his chest, but stayed still while Sarah pretended to listen, breathing in and out when he was told. 'I thought so.' 'What?' said Simon, trying to sound suitably alarmed. 'It's serious, I'm afraid. I'll have to give you a complete check-up. I think you'd better get undressed.' 'Not...everything!' Simon gasped at the suggestion. 'Yes, everything off. Come on, I am a nurse. I know what I'm doing.' Normally, Simon would have been completely opposed to undressing in front of anyone, let alone a girl. True, he undressed to his pants to do PE at school, but this was different. However, there was something special about Sarah, and the boy began to realize that he would quite like to strip bare in front of this girl. Simon decided to do it before he changed his mind, and sitting on the edge of the bed, he slipped off his socks and placed his bare feet on the cool floor. Lifting his hips slightly, he undid his shorts and slipped them down and off to reveal his plain, blue pants. Gripping the waistband, he looked up at Sarah to see her staring at the small bulge in the thin material, and then slowly began to pull down his pants. Sarah put a hand to her mouth and giggled aloud when Simon's small cock suddenly popped into view, and he went to pull them back up, blushing furiously. Sarah was quicker, though, and grabbed Simon's pants, then yanked them all the way down and off his ankles. Sarah held the pants behind her back, still giggling, and Simon knelt up to try to retrieve them. Then he realized that the girl was staring at his exposed prick and balls, and he sat down again quickly, putting his hands down to cover himself. 'Come on,' Sarah encouraged her friend. 'I've got to examine you all over.' Slowly, Simon moved his hands away and exposed his smooth little shaft and tight balls to the girl's excited stares. As he looked at her face, he began to feel a warmth spreading though his body and a churning in his stomach. Almost without realizing it, he let his thighs slip apart so that his genitals were on open display, Sarah's eyes glued to them as she slowly moved the stethoscope down the boy's stomach. Finally, she placed the end of the stethoscope against the very tip of Simon's little cock, making him gasp a little as he felt the cool metal. The effect, though, was far from unpleasant, and both he and Sarah watched as his cock slowly rose and pointed up stiffly to the ceiling. Simon blushed furiously, but Sarah giggled, and dropping the stethoscope, she reached out and gripped the firm shaft. 'Ohh, Simon...your willy's gone all firm.' Sarah's cool fingers on his prick made Simon feel even stranger, and he began to feel a warmth in his stomach of a type that he had not experienced before. He began to breathe heavily and gasp quite loudly as Sarah's fingers began to move up and down, up and down, and he found himself opening his thighs even further in encouragement. 'Do you like that?' Emma asked curiously, looking at the boy's blushing face. Simon could only nod, and avoided looking at his friend, but he found himself pushing his hips further for further treatment. Emma continued rubbing the small cock, and brought her hand round to touch the tight, well-defined balls. At first, she squeezed them a little, but when she saw Simon wince, she moved instead to a light tickling, that he found very nice indeed. As quickly as it had started, the hands left, and Sarah became the nurse again. 'Turn round, please. I need to examine your bottom.' Simon was now happy to continue with the game, however it developed, and he turned round quickly so that he knelt on all fours, his bare bottom ready for Sarah's investigation. He could not help moving forward as he felt two small hands on his warm skin, but he moved back as they explored the firm cheeks, rubbing and squeezing quite hard. Simon felt the small hands slowly separating his cheeks, and then there was a pause before Sarah let out a delightful giggle. 'Oh, Simon, I can see your hole.' Simon's face flushed again, but he did not feel embarrassed. Instead, the fact that a girl was seeing him bare and exploring every inch of his body only increased the warm itch in his stomach and between his legs. Even when he felt a finger against his anus, he stayed still, and even pushed back slightly against the probing digit. Suddenly, Simon jumped as Emma slapped his bum quite hard, and he spun round to see the girl kneeling up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 'Do you want to take my dress off?' she asked demurely.Simon didn't need a second invitation, and reaching forward, he gripped the hem of Sarah's dress and yanked it up. She obligingly raised her arms above her head, and he slipped the dress off and let it drop to the floor. Now his gaze switched to the white knickers that fitted snugly around his friend's hips. They were so tight, in fact, that he could see an indentation in the front where the material had slipped into her slit. In a daze, he reached for the waistband and slowly pulled down Emma's pants! As they turned inside out and her little cunt came into view, he stopped and gaped, but she took over and slipped her knickers right down and off. Lying on her back on the bed, she opened her legs wide and smiled at the look on Simon's face as he stared at the firm slit between her legs. Taking his hand, Sarah pressed it hard against her cunt. 'Go on, rub it if you want..........that's it, along the slit.' Simon did as he was asked, rubbing his fingers along the small slit, pressing hard so that it parted slightly. Now it was Sarah's turn to feel the warmth, and she lifted her hips so that Simon's palm just fitted the raised mound of her vulva. 'Can I see your bum?', Simon asked, and Sarah quickly turned over. Kneeling, she bent down and then thrust her bottom back and up into the 'cat' position which she had been taught at school. This presented her bottom perfectly to a delighted Simon, and he was able to see both her pouting cunt and the little, puckered anus. Reaching out, he placed his hands on both cheeks, liking the warmth, and then began to rub all over, pressing a finger quite hard against the girl's little bumhole and cunt. 'Why are you letting me do this, Sarah?' 'Some of the boys at school showed me it', she replied. 'We sometimes do it at lunch time in the woods. Does it feel nice?' 'Mmm, it feels funny. What else can we do?' Sarah turned round and patted the bed beside her. 'Let's have a cuddle.' Simon lay down beside her, and they put their arms around each other, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies. 'Do you feel funny between your legs?', Sarah whispered, reaching down and rubbing the boy's bottom. 'Yes, and my tummy. How about you', came the whispered reply. 'Mmmm, it feels really nice.' Sarah took Simon's hand and again placed it between her legs. 'Sometimes Daddy cuddles me and it feels lovely, especially when his hand touches me there. He tries to pretend it's an accident, but I think he likes it too. I can feel his willy going stiff under my bottom and he starts breathing heavily.' Simon snuggled even closer as Sarah's hand gripped his cock and began to rub. The idea that Sarah's dad might like touching her fascinated him, and he wanted to know more. 'Does he do anything else to you?' 'Well, when he bathes me he always takes ages washing my fanny and bottom. And sometimes when he takes pictures of me and Mummy isn't there, he asks me to open my legs so he can see my knickers. Does your dad do anything to you?' 'No, but my teacher at school sometimes sits me on his lap and rubs my bottom through my shorts.' 'Like this', Emma rubbed the boy's cheeks hard for a moment. 'Mmm, and once he put his hand up inside and felt my pants. He keeps asking me to visit him after school, but if I'm late home my mummy whips me hard.' 'What does she do', Emma was instantly curious. 'She tells me to go upstairs and take my shorts and pants off. Then she bends me over my bed and whacks me with a belt. It really hurts, and I always cry, but she kisses me better and puts me to bed, and never says anything else about it. Do you get whipped?' 'Daddy spanks me', Emma replied. 'He takes me over my lap and pulls down my knickers, but he always rubs my bottom before he starts. It really hurts though, and when I pull my knickers up he always stares at my fanny.' Unfortunately for Simon and Sarah, while they had been relating their experiences, Sarah's thirteen-year-old brother had returned home early because football practice had been cancelled. Finding no one downstairs, he had gone upstairs and, hearing voices from his sister's room, had listened at the door. Now he pushed the door open wide, and smiled as he saw the look of horror on the two children's faces as they scrambled to get under the duvet to hide their nakedness. 'Well, what's going on here, then', he asked with a broad smile. 'Tom.....what are you doing in here', Sarah stammered. 'My room is private', she finished lamely. 'Yes, I can see why. That didn't stop you interrupting me and Samantha last week, did it? Where's mother.' 'Next door', Emma said softly. 'Do you want me to tell her about this?' 'Oh, no, please don't - she'll KILL us.' 'Well', Tom said thoughtfully, 'I could keep quiet, but it'll cost you.' 'What do you want', his sister said resignedly, expecting him to want some money. 'Well', Tom grinned even more. 'You two will have to do exactly what I say for the next hour. If you don't, I'll go and get mum now and tell her what you were doing.' This made Sarah gasp, and she turned to look at Simon. Up till now, he had sat quietly, but now he spoke up in a small, nervous voice. 'We'd better do as he says. If my Mum finds out she'll whip me so I can't sit down for a month.' Sarah turned back to her brother and pouted at him. 'OK, we'll do it, what do you want.' 'Well, first you can get out from under that duvet so I can have a good look at you.' Grudgingly, both children did as they were told and sat on top of the duvet, while Tom stared at their bare bodies. He had often seen Sarah naked before, so she was not unduly worried, but Simon was finding the sensation of having an older boy staring at his little cock rather strange. In fact, his stomach began churning again and he felt his prick slowly begin to stiffen. 'Right', Tom said as he walked towards them, pulling off his T-shirt as he came. 'Let's have some fun, shall we?' Both children reached out and held hands for support as they watched the older boy begin to undo his trousers.Tom watched this from his position and slowly rubbed his stiff prick, admiring his sister's technique. 'Now rub his bumhole.' Sarah looked a little shocked at this, but finally moved a hand down and began to press a finger against the boy's tight sphincter, rubbing quite hard while still feeling his little cock. 'Push your finger up his bum.' 'Tom, that's horrible.' 'I don't care, do it or I'll go and get Mum now.' Sarah grimaced, but the threat had its effect, and gradually she applied more pressure to the small hole. At first, Simon just gasped, but then he yelled as the finger began to enter. Sarah pulled her finger out and looked at her brother. 'I can't do it, it's too tight, I'm hurting him.' 'OK, hang on a minute,' and Tom padded out into the hall still naked, his erect prick bouncing as he moved. A moment later, he returned with an open jar of Vaseline, and handed it to the girl. 'Cover your finger in that and do it again.' Sarah dipped her finger carefully into the jar, and smeared her middle finger in the lubricating cream, then raised it to her nose and sniffed. Wrinkling her nose up, she lowered her hand and reapplied the finger to Simon's anus. Meanwhile, Tom moved to kneel astride the boy's head, and pressed down on the back of his knees to keep him still against the bed. Simon looked up to see two hairless balls and a slim, stiff cock throbbing above him. Then he felt the force of Sarah's finger, and cried out as it slid into his tight sphincter. Sarah pushed it all the way in, then kept it there as Simon wriggled and gasped. Fortunately, his anus soon began to stretch, and after a minute he was able to relax with the finger still inside him. 'Move it in and out,' Tom demanded, slowly rubbing his cock as he watched. Sarah had given up protesting by now, so she immediately obeyed, sliding her finger in and out of her friend's hole, which was becoming looser all the time. Simon gradually began to accept the treatment, and even found himself rather liking it! 'Now suck his willy at the same time.' 'Tom...I...can't.' Sarah looked pleadingly at her brother, but her protests were cut short by the look on his face, and she looked down at Simon's little cock. Ever so slowly, her face dropped until it was millimetres from the tip, then paused. Again she looked at her brother, but there was no relenting. Again, she hesitated, opening then closing her mouth several times. Finally, she opened her mouth wide and slipped it over the tip of the small prick. She stayed like this for a while, gradually closing her mouth until her lips gripped the shaft. Tom was impatient, though, and pressed down on the back of his sister's head until the whole length slipped inside. Sarah kept her head still at first, becoming used to the feel of the hot little shaft in her mouth, but she soon found that the feeling was in fact quite pleasant and began to suck with some relish. Simon was also enjoying the experience greatly, and his little body trembled as he delighted in the warm moistness of his friend's hot mouth. Tom became bored with this, though, and all too soon for the two young friends he brought Simon's pleasure to an end. 'OK, you can stop now,' he told his sister. 'Now you lie on the bed like Simon.' Sarah grudgingly did as she was told, and when she was in position, Simon was ordered to kneel in front of her. He did so, and stared at the sight of his friend so indecently exposed. In this position, the cheeks of her bottom were spread wide to reveal her puckered little anus, and the slit of her cunt was parted to reveal the pink insides. 'Right, Simon, you know what to do - put your finger right up her bum!' If Simon was being honest with himself, he was now beginning to enjoy the feeling of being told what to do, and he did not hesitate in dipping his finger in the Vaseline, before applying it to the little bullseye and pressing hard. Sarah moaned as the finger slipped into her, but Simon had been in the same position, and he let her passage become used to the width of his finger before he began to move it in and out gently. 'Now put one up her cunt,' Tom ordered, rubbing himself slowly as he watched the two youngsters act out his fantasies. Sarah gasped at this order, but Simon merely coated the middle finger of his other hand with lubricant, and began to rub it along the crease of the girl's cunt. Looking up at his friend, as if to say sorry, he slowly pressed into her young cunt, making Sarah cry out as his finger slipped into her tight young passage. At first, Sarah only felt pain, but Simon was very gentle, and as he left his finger inside her, she gradually felt a warmth come over her, and she wriggled her little hips provocatively. Simon saw the look on her face, and smiled as he slowly began to slide his finger in and out in time with his other finger, one up her cunt and one up her bumhole. 'Now lick her cunt - hard!' Tom ordered the boy, rubbing himself even harder. 'No...I can't do that...not that,' Simon stammered. 'Right, that's it, I'm going to get mum,' Tom stated, standing up and walking out of the room. In his state, Simon didn't realise that Tom could hardly walk next door naked! Instead, he was filled with the fear of his mother's strap. 'OK, please don't tell her,' he shouted. 'I'll do it...look, I'm doing it.' So saying, he dropped his face to his friend's cunt and began to lick it furiously, running his tongue up and down Sarah's pouting cunt. Tom came back into the room and sat down, beginning to wank himself again as he watched Simon licking his sister's little mound. 'Now push your tongue right in,' he told the young boy. 'As far as you can.' Simon was not going to risk Tom really going next door this time, so without any complaints he stuck his tongue out, and wriggled it into the tight young hole. Sarah gasped as she felt the wetness of her friend's little tongue moving inside her, and she found the feeling very nice indeed. Simon was also finding it an enjoyable experience, and he began to get into the spirit of things, pressing his face against the small cunt and flicking his tongue deep until Sarah's hips were wriggling and she was moaning in pleasure. Tom had to stop them finally, because he could see that both children were becoming excited, and he wanted them to experience much more yet. 'Now kneel in between her legs - Sarah, open your legs wide so he can...' Both children did as they were told, and Simon looked at Tom expectantly. He had no idea what he was going to have to do, but his excitement was overwhelming and as long as it involved Sarah he didn't care. 'Now lie down and put your cock up her cunt,' Tom ordered. Simon felt a hot flush come over him as he looked down at his friend's little cunt, splayed open with her legs. He looked up at her and she simply nodded at him, excitement clear on her face. Simon reached down to grip his little cock, now very stiff, and slowly he lay down on Sarah, guiding the tip of his cock to her open hole. As it entered, he felt the warmth, and let the weight of his body sink the length of his shaft into the girl's tight slit as he moulded his body to Sarah, placing his arms around her and revelling in the warmth of her skin against his. 'Now move in and out.' Simon slowly began to lift his hips, moving them up and down and feeling his prick expand as it rubbed the sides of Sarah's vulva. Tom watched the pair for several minutes, slowly rubbing himself and smiling as he noticed the boy push faster and harder, until he was jerking in and out madly. Eventually, Simon let out a series of short gasps and his little body visibly shivered as he reached a climax like nothing he had ever experienced before. Tom left him for a moment to recover, wrapped in Sarah's arms, but finally, he reached across and landed a slap across the boy's bum which made him jerk. 'That was very naughty of both of you. I'm going to have to punish you - lay down on the bed facing each other.' The children did as they were told, Simon too exhausted to protest and Sarah still too excited to think about anything. Tom showed them exactly how he wanted them - lying down holding each other's hands in front of them. 'I'm going to give you both a good spanking, and then a slippering,' Tom stated simply. 'Hold on to each other or I'll tie you down and get the stick from Mum's room.' Both children were shocked at this, but the threat of the stick meant that they gripped each other tightly, glancing at each other for comfort. Tom began by kneeling beside Simon, then starting to spank the bare little cheeks. At first, they were relatively gentle slaps, and Simon even found them quite enjoyable, but gradually the stinging built up until he began to gasp. Sarah watched her friend as his mouth tightened and his eyes moistened, then the first tear rolled down his innocent face. Tom continued spanking the boy until he was audibly crying, albeit softly, and then went to the wardrobe. Quickly, he retrieved Sarah's slipper and slapped it against his palm, returning to the bed. Sitting astride Simon's back, facing his bum, he lifted the slipper high and brought it down with a smack on the boy's left cheek. Sarah watched as her friend bucked, his mouth becoming a howling oval as the slipper landed again and again, on alternate cheeks. Soon Simon was howling and sobbing, but Tom was eager and he continued the slippering until the boy's small bare cheeks were bright red all over, with crimson on the crowns.Leaving Simon bawling, Tom quickly knelt astride his sister, and ten minutes later she too had a bottom the color of beetroot as tears cascaded down her pretty face. Tom allowed them five minutes to recover, slowly masturbating as he watched them trying to comfort each other. He could feel his climax fast approaching, so he moved over next to the children and made them turn their faces to watch him masturbate. As they stared with open mouths, their little faces still tear-stained, their hands gradually began to fondle each other, until they too were becoming excited. 'Open your mouths, both of you,' Tom gasped as his climax approached. Both children were so caught up in the spirit of things that they both opened their mouths wide obediently, just as Tom's cock throbbed and jerked, spraying hot spunk onto the children's upturned faces. Streams of sperm ran down the children's cheeks, but a sizeable amount landed in their open mouths as well, and they gulped as they both tasted a boy's spunk for the first time. In fact, neither of them found it too bad, and Sarah found the taste rather nice. Tom moaned with pleasure as his balls exploded, and he continued slowly masturbating as his cock went limp. Still excited at the sight of his sister's face covered with his spunk, he grabbed the back of her head and pulled it forward until his flaccid member pushed into her mouth. He moved her head until he was fully inside her hot little mouth, and held it there as Sarah became used to the tip touching the back of her throat. After some seconds, Tom began to move his sister's head back and forth, and Sarah naturally took up the rhythm, sucking her brother's cock as it quickly stiffened again. She seemed to be as excited as Tom now, and she sucked him like a lollipop, flicking her tongue around the tip and sending her brother into ecstasy. It was several minutes before Tom withdrew his stiff and glistening cock, but only to move it across to Simon. The boy had been watching with astonishment, but he could not deny a certain amount of excitement in his churning tummy. At first, he kept his mouth shut as his head was pulled down until the tip of Tom's cock pressed against his mouth, but slowly he yielded and felt the slim shaft slide over his tongue. At first, he thought he would choke when the tip touched the back of his throat, but he soon realized that he could accept it quite easily, and began to suck on the warm prick. He also found the experience rather exciting, and was soon licking and sucking with gusto, moaning with pleasure as Tom's fingers gripped his little cock and rubbed it up and down. In the frenzied state that Simon was in, he would not have minded if Tom had sprayed his spunk down the child's throat, but eventually Tom withdrew - he had other plans for the two younger children yet! 'Both of you get on all fours on the bed,' Tom gasped, and the children rushed to obey, eager to find out what Tom would do to them next. Tom admired the sight of the two children for a moment, their little bare bums wriggling as they took up position, but then he began to adjust their position; pushing their backs down and opening their thighs so that their bottoms were thrust back and his objective was clearly displayed - two puckered little anuses peeking between two small sets of bottom cheeks. Getting onto the bed behind them, Tom took the Vaseline jar and covered both hands with it, particularly his thumbs. He then placed one hand on each delightful bottom and began to rub all over. The children found this sensation delightful, and they were both soon moaning and wriggling their bums as Tom's fingers slowly moved into their creases. He spent ages rubbing at the two little bumholes, but finally he pushed hard and slipped a finger into each. This made the children gasp, but in their current state they found even this rather nice, and Simon especially pushed his bottom back for more! Tom spent some five minutes moving his finger inside the children's bottoms, but finally slipped them out, only to place his thumbs against the two small bullseyes and press them into the tight holes. The thicker intrusion made them gasp at first, but both children soon relaxed and allowed the older boy to embed his thumbs fully in their behinds. Tom left them there for a moment, and let his fingers linger in the crease of each child, then moved them further down between their legs. With Simon, his fingers tickled the base of the young boy's tight balls; with his sister, his fingers ran the length of her slit, parting her small lips with his energetic probing as his thumbs began to move in and out. A further five minutes followed, until Tom finally withdrew his fingers, preparing himself for the ultimate pleasure. First, he applied liberal amounts of Vaseline to his throbbing cock. Then he took another handful and smeared it along Simon's crease, pressing some into the small hole with two fingers. Slapping Sarah hard on the bottom so that she squealed, he made her turn round and showed her how he wanted her hands - pulling Simon's cheeks apart to fully reveal his puckered dimple. 'What are you going to do to him?' Sarah asked, although she already had a very good idea! 'I'm going to put my cock up his bum and fuck him,' Tom said simply. 'Will it hurt?' Simon turned his head, unsure of his feelings at the news that he was about to feel a cock up his bum. Part of him was fearful, but there was also an undeniable excitement when Tom said he was going to fuck him. 'No, only a little at first, but then you'll like it,' Tom answered, rubbing his greased prick up and down the boy's crease. 'Go on then, fuck me,' Simon heard himself say, and he buried his head in the duvet as he felt the tip of Tom's cock pressing against his bumhole. Tom himself felt the resistance as he began to sink his slim shaft into the boy's bottom, but he was not going to be robbed of an opportunity like this. Gripping Simon's hips and holding him still, he suddenly thrust forward with vigor and forced his cock in up to the hilt, embedded in the little boy's hole. Simon howled as he felt his hole stretched, and tears began to stream down his cheeks, but Tom held him tight and stayed deep inside the whimpering child, waiting for the Vaseline to have its effect. Slowly, both Tom and Simon felt the younger boy's sphincter muscles relax to accept the intrusion, and Tom began to move in and out carefully. Simon's tears gradually subsided, and his whimpers turned to moans of pleasure as his bum lost its virginity. The thickness moving inside him was a little painful at first, but as he relaxed it became easier and he began to enjoy the feeling. Tom sensed the child's excitement and began to thrust with more purpose, making sure his balls pressed against Simon's bum each time, proving that his full four inches were up inside the tight hole. Soon both boys were gasping in pleasure as they fucked, but finally Tom stopped himself and carefully withdrew his throbbing cock. Sarah had been watching carefully, and had noticed Simon's pleasure, so she was already on all fours waiting, her hands back and pulling her bottom apart to reveal her lovely little puckered bumhole. 'Are you going to fuck me now?' she asked. 'Yes I am,' her brother told her. 'I'm going to stick my cock right up your bum and fuck you hard.' 'Come on then, please, fuck me..........fuck my bum.' Tom moved into position and placed his cock against the entrance to his sister's anus, then gripped her and drove himself deep into her young hole. She screamed at the initial feeling of the shaft thrusting into her, but as she relaxed and pushed her bottom back the pain disappeared and her tummy began to churn. Tom fucked his sister slowly but firmly, withdrawing almost completely, then slowly sliding back in until he was fully inside her. The tightness was soon getting to him, and he began to move in and out quicker and quicker, until he pushed firmly in, flattening Sarah on the bed as his prick jerked and throbbed, spraying his hot spunk deep in Sarah's rectum. They lay on the bed for several minutes, Sarah still impaled on her brother, but finally he withdrew and began to clean up with some tissues. Looking at his watch, he went to pick up his clothes, then left the room, turning to smile at the two children. 'Nice to meet you Simon,' he said simply and then walked out, leaving the two children in quite a state. Sarah lay back on the bed, patting the space next to her until Simon lay down beside her. They cuddled together and in a whisper began to talk about what had happened, how it felt to have a cock up their bum, in their mouths, etc. 'Would......you like to fuck me again?' Sarah whispered into the boy's ear, and he looked up at her, smiled and nodded. The girl smiled back, then fell back on the bed, placing her hands behind her head and opening her legs wide to expose her pouting little cunt. Simon knelt between her thighs, gripping his stiff little cock and lowering himself until the tip touched Sarah's vagina. He teased her for a little while, rubbing his cock across her mound and making her wriggle as she felt the cool tip on her warm body. Finally, though, he guided his tip to her slit and pressed it home, pressing down with his weight until he was fully inside her.As the two children cuddled together, Simon began to thrust in and out, building in speed until both children were gasping in excitement and coming closer and closer to their climax. "SARAH... SIMON... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?!" The children once more leapt for the cover of the duvet. In their excitement, they had forgotten that Sarah's mother was only next door, and she now stood at the door, looking extremely angry. Sarah lamely tried to stammer an excuse, but her mother was not listening. "I'm going to get the cane," she announced, turning on her heels. "I want both of you bent over the bed when I get back. I'll teach you to behave like that!" And so both children nervously got out from under the duvet and bent over, holding hands for comfort as they waited to feel the brunt of the woman's anger, in the most practical way possible.

Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_N/Nurse Story (spanking).txt